Page 123 of We Drank the Dawn

“You really are out of the loop, aren’t you?”

“Is he old news or something?”

“Yeah, I kicked him to the curb.”

My scoff mixed with an incredulous laugh. “What? Why? I liked Brad.”

“I liked him too until he started texting that coworker of his every day. He wouldn’t admit to cheating, but I knew he was.” She gave a long exhale. “Been single and ready to mingle ever since.”

“That must’ve been hard. You guys were together a long time.”

She laughed, vapor rising from her mouth into the chilly night air. “It would’ve been hard for you, but not me. No, I don’t let men have that kind of power. That’s a you and Mom thing.” She bumped my shoulder with hers, chuckling.

But I stopped walking, turning to face her. “What does that mean?”

“What part, babe?”

I shook my head, blinking in confusion. “The ‘that’s a you and mom thing’ part.”

Her jaw worked as she inhaled through her electronic cigarette again. “You and Mom are obsessed with your men.” She looked me dead in the eyes. “If anyone is going to be screwed over and hung up on a man, it’ll be you and her, not me. That’s what I meant.”

Angry blood scorched my veins at the idea of being lumped into any category with my mother. “Why are you saying that about me? I’m not like Mom.”

A smile curled into her cheeks.

“I’m not.”

“Whatever you say.” She continued walking, but I surged forward to grab her arm and make her stop again.

“Wait, Tonya. I want to know why you said that. I cannot stand the way Mom’s world revolves around Dad, and it bothers me that you said I’m like her in that.” My heart bucked against the idea, but also…

Hadn’t the thought nearly come to me several times before now?

But I’d pushed it away, unwilling to think about it because it made me literally sick with dread to consider the fact that I might be anything like her.

Sticky heat bloomed over my face.

Still smiling, Tonya spoke. Letting her eyes flick up to the night sky, she shook her head. “I will never forget the night you came home, talking about the kid from class. You wouldn’t shut up about him. You were so young too, couldn’t have been older than twelve maybe. And then—” Her abrupt laugh cut off her words. “Then one night I came into your room. You were probably in high school at the time and there was a piece of stationery laid out on your desk that had some words at the top—I don’t remember what they were. Like, ‘Sarah’s Bucket List’ or something like that?”

I stiffened, instantly mortified.

“Anyway, I howled with laughter reading the thing because it was so him obsessed. I thought it was hilarious. But you and Peter really did become a thing and then suddenly your entire life became waiting on him to marry you. There was constantly something wrong with that boy, but you still waited on him to buy you a house, buy you a ring.” Her eyes dropped to my stomach. “And, from all appearances, it looks like you're still waiting for the only thing you told me you truly wanted.”

I was thankful she didn’t say what it was out loud, because my emotions were already teetering on the edge, threatening to fall and shatter.

She continued, “If I had to guess what’s going on right now, him going blind—which is comically dramatic, by the way—has become your entire life. But, like a good little wifey, you’re taking care of him. Not because you want to necessarily, but because you have no idea who you’d be without him, which makes sense considering he’s been your north star since middle school. And that is something our mother would do.”

Fingers of fear curled around my throat, cutting off my air supply. I wanted to defend myself—I wasn’t anything like her. How could Tonya even accuse me of that? I blurted, “We’re separated right now.”

Her brows raised. “Really? I’m stunned.”

“Yeah, we are.” I said it like it was some sort of accomplishment. As if a broken marriage defied my mother’s legacy somehow.

“How did that happen?”

I told her about the change in Peter, how he’d completely fallen apart in the last two years. But, even as I pretended to be unaffected, my heart burned for him. This felt like betrayal, airing our heartbreak as if I was thankful to be rid of him, when not even an hour ago I was yearning for his arms.

But the war beat in my chest drowned out every other concern.