The Reality of Everything - Rebecca Yarros Page 0,101
my peripheral vision, I saw Sawyer sneak away, motioning to Christina and her husband to do the same. It was just us—the Sunday dinner crew—and Jackson, who was silent and strong at my side.
“I don’t understand,” Paisley said softly.
“You never did,” I spat, shaking my head. “How did you find out Will was dead?”
Her lips parted. “The officers came to the door. I was with Ember, and they told us Will had been killed. Then they gave us the news that Jagger and Josh were both seriously injured.”
I nodded, processing the information. “I was in the jam aisle at Publix when Sam called.” I tried to swallow the lump of anxiety that formed in my throat, but it wouldn’t move. I arched my neck, but no matter how many times I worked my throat, it stuck there like a damned rock.
“What’s wrong?” Paisley asked, moving forward.
“Give her a second.” Sam stepped between us.
“Kitty,” Jackson whispered, pressing an opened bottle of water into my hand.
I chugged half the bottle, then took deep breaths and visualized the muscles relaxing. I’d told this story in Dr. Circe’s office for the last six weeks and listened to myself tell it every single morning. I could do this.
“Thank you.” I handed Jackson the bottle and threw him a fragile smile.
He winked and squeezed my hand as he took it back.
“I was in the jam aisle at Publix, and Sam called. That jar of jam slipped from my hands and shattered all over that tacky linoleum, red like blood as it splattered my feet. And she didn’t have the details. That was something only you got, since you were listed as his next of kin.”
Paisley’s hands fell to her sides.
“I don’t remember much about leaving the store, but slowly it’s coming back to me the more I hear myself tell the story. I left the buggy in the middle of the aisle, didn’t even tell the workers that I’d made a mess, and I stumbled to my car as Sam told me she was on her way to me. She was getting on a plane from Colorado. I sat in that parking lot for two hours, just staring out the windshield, and when I tried to call my very best friend, she didn’t answer.” I wrapped my arms around myself.
“I must have been on the plane already.” Her voice was soft. “Jagger’s father flew us straight to Germany.”
“And you didn’t pick up the phone. Not once.”
“Shit,” Ember muttered.
“It’s okay, Ember,” I assured her. “You told Sam to check on me. God knows how long I would have gone without knowing if you hadn’t, so thank you.”
“Oh God.” Paisley’s mouth opened and shut a few times as she looked at Ember, then back at Jagger. “Morgan, I wasn’t thinking clearly! My husband was injured!”
“The man I loved was dead!” My hands flew into fists. “You don’t think I made your excuses time and again? I knew you were under water. God knows I prayed for Josh and Jagger to heal quickly, and I’m honestly so grateful for their lives, but you abandoned me until the day of the funeral, and then you invited me to sit in the front pew like it was yours. Like he was yours!”
Paisley’s lower lip trembled. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
“At what point did you remember that I loved him, Paisley? Was it when your daddy made his funeral all about Will’s love for you? His sacrifice so your husband could live? Was it when I held you up at the gravesite as they buried the only man I’ve ever loved?” My voice cracked.
“Morgan,” she whispered.
“You want to know why I can’t bear to be around you? It’s because every time I see your face and hear you gush about how damned happy you are, all I can think is how fucking unfair everything is!” Tears stung my eyes. “You got Jagger back. Ember got Josh. Sam has Grayson, and I have a fucking truck that I can’t sit in without having an anxiety attack!”
She reached for me, and I stepped back. It wasn’t in her nature to watch suffering and do nothing about it, but in this case, there was nothing she could do.
“Do you know what causes complicated grief?”
“It’s a breakdown in the grieving process,” Paisley answered, letting her hand fall back to her side. “Usually caused by an overwhelming guilt that you could have stopped the death from happening or the inability to accept the injustice of it.