Page 80 of Just Between Us

Closing the notebook, I relax my head on the back of the couch and blow out a breath. Each day I think I feel closer to making that appointment. But until then, I googled some techniques. Box breathing, meditating, things like that. I know, I know. Those things are not a replacement for the real thing. But I gotta be honest, it’s helping. Slowly but surely, I’m seeing things for how they are.

Cracking the notebook open again, I flip until I reach what I’m looking for. The day Cassie left for Texas my mind was a mess, flip-flopping from Julie to Cassie. Julie to Cassie. Over and over again. Then the words came to me, pouring onto the page.

They say the heart has chambers—four to be exact.

But mine: No, mine has five.

Four to keep me breathing and one that died,

Yet keeps me only half alive.

I thought that chamber was a tomb.

I’d visit it at night,

Guilt pressing in on all sides,

No room for any light.

She’d never make me choose,

But I feel it anyway.

The pull back to the tomb

Instead of the woman I push away.

The heart has chambers—mine has five.

Four working, one that died.

But maybe, just maybe, half alive’s enough

To let her inside.

I read over it once, twice, then a third time. With each pass, my eyes hover on that last line. To let her inside.

My phone buzzes with an incoming text, and my heart kicks up, hoping it’s Cassie.

Ryan

Just got in. The roads are getting icy.

Ryan

Get ready to have your ass handed to you at Madden tomorrow.

Sure little brother. Prepare to pay up.

Don’t forget, I prefer payment in large bills.

Ryan

Smiling, I set my phone back down. A rare Alabama snow is predicted and it’s moving in quickly. Looks like we’ll have a white Christmas. My whole family is in town, but tonight I’m staying home, hoping to hear from Cassie. She said she had a busy day, but she’d try to FaceTime.

Her face is freshly scrubbed, her hair still back in one of those weird bubble headbands women wear these days. On her temple there’s a star-shaped pimple patch, and I’m acutely aware of what the sayinga face with a viewnow means. Hers is a face I could look at every minute of every day and never grow tired of. All I can think is I want to see her like this every night. Bare faced. Real. Mine.

“Hi,” she says, softly. Almost shy.