Chapter 6 - THE LETTER IN THE DRAWER
Rachel did not hate me quietly.
That was almost refreshing.
“She stayed at my apartment after the procedure.”
I looked at Sophie through the glass.
“I didn’t know.”
“That sentence seems to be doing a lot of work for you.”
I deserved that too.
Rachel crossed her arms.
“She threw up for three days.”
My stomach tightened.
“She slept on my bathroom floor because she was afraid she wouldn’t reach the toilet.”
“Rachel.”
Sophie stood in the doorway.
“That’s enough.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Yes.”
Rachel looked at me.
“She protected you even when you weren’t there.”
Sophie’s voice sharpened.
“Stop.”
Rachel finally did.
I said, “She has a right to be angry.”
Sophie looked exhausted.
“She does.”
“So do you.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to perform it for you.”
I nodded.
Rachel left to get food.
Sophie sat on the bed.
“She means well.”
“She’s right.”
“She’s not right about everything.”
“Which part?”
Sophie picked at the blanket.
“You didn’t leave because you stopped caring.”
I looked at her.
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“No.”
She took a breath.
“But I know what grief did to me.”
She looked toward the window.
“I turned every room into a memorial.”
“You were grieving.”
“So were you.”
“I ran.”
“Yes.”
A long pause.
“You ran.”
There was no accusation in it now.
Just fact.
That hurt more.
I reached into my jacket.
“I found something else at the house.”
I handed her the old paint sample.
Morning Mist.
Her face crumpled before she could stop it.
“I hate that color.”
“I know.”
“It’s ugly.”
“Terrible.”
“Looks blue in bad light.”
“Looks like government housing gray.”
She laughed.
Then cried.
I sat beside her.
This time, when she leaned against me, I did not freeze.
I put my arm around her.
Not husband.
Not rescuer.
Just Ethan.
Later that night, Rachel called me.
Sophie had collapsed in the bathroom.
May you like
By the time I reached the hospital, three nurses were running toward her room.
