Page 148 of We Drank the Dawn

Fully relaxed now, Martha kept talking. “If I were your friend, I’d try to stage an intervention and get him the help he needs. And then be very patient as he comes around. Not divorce him. He’s going to need her more than ever before. And, whether or not she admits it, she probably needs him, too.”

I allowed her conversation to flit to other topics as I finished up her massage. Even though we chatted about her grandkids, my mind wandered. When she was dressed and ready to go, I gave her my business card and told her to call me so I could give her another massage on the house—one where I didn’t talk so much. She teared up as she thanked me.

When she turned to leave, she said, “I hope your friend works things out with her husband.”

She was onto me, and I honestly didn’t mind. I looked forward to seeing her again.

As soon as she was out of sight, I plopped down on the table, struggling to think through my pounding headache. Before I even registered what I was doing, I found myself scrolling through iCloud for my wedding pictures and videos.

Ten minutes later, I was watching Peter say his vows as tears dripped off my chin.

“I, Peter, take you, Sarah, to be my wife.”

His grin stretched ear to ear. He was so happy. So was I.

My bracelet of sun charms dangled off my wrist and he held my hands.

“To have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

And I repeated them back.

Then, with love blooming in our eyes, we gave each other rings as a symbol of our promise.

I glanced down at my bare finger, regretting that I’d taken it off. Taking it off felt like a declaration—my promise didn’t extend that far.

Sobbing, alone in my massage room, I opened Gmail on my phone and emailed my attorney.

I rolled my cart out the door, down the hall, and through the front doors of the center. Then I came back for my table. But when I got to the foyer, the receptionist, Pepper, was at the desk.

“Oh! Sarah!” Her voice cut through the wheels’ noisy grinding on the tile.

I stopped.

“You got the most beautiful bouquet.”

Immediately, my eyes flicked to the splash of yellow flowers sitting next to her on the desk. Sunflowers, daisies, roses, carnations, and lilies. All yellow. Like a burst of light. The heartbeat in my chest jumped. “Those…those are for me?”

“Yes!” She waved me toward them. “They smell so good. I have sniffed them a hundred times in the few hours they’ve been sitting here. It’s an addiction. I can’t stop.”

“Who are they from?”

“Probably your husband, you silly girl.” She cackled. “Come get them.”

I didn’t really air my marriage issues around the center. Pepper knew about the accident, but it had been a long time since we shared a lunch break together. Peter probably stood in her memory as my sexy husband who loved to hike and kayak and often whisked me away for tacos during my lunch break.

“Thanks, Pepper,” I said as I curled my arm around the vase.

She frowned. “Are you sick?”

For the first time all week, I said yes.

“Oh no. Go home and get some rest.”

“I will,” I lied.

Slowly I trudged to the car, wondering if they’d made a mistake and gotten the wrong Sarah. Flowers seemed a little out of the blue today. They probably weren’t from Peter. But if they weren’t, who were they from? A client, maybe? A few of them knew I wasn’t feeling myself…

I buckled the vase into the front seat then lifted my table into the hatchback, sliding it in. In the driver’s seat, I turned on the heat and stared at the flowers.