I gripped the railing, pulling my weight upward with slow, agonizing steps. Inside wasn’t much easier, but I was happy to be out of the chilly air.
My apartment smelled of bleach and artificial flowers. “I hope you don’t mind. I tidied up a bit.” She slid my purse from my shoulder and placed it on the kitchen island.
My gaze drifted over the empty space that should have held a table. I looked away. That was from my other life, the one I preferred.
“You’re a minimalist,” Aunt Ellen joked as she pulled a pot from the cupboard. “That will make it easier on us during the move.”
“Move?” I asked, sinking into the small couch in the living room.
I would miss the new pots and pans, the kitchen table, the new mattress, the new comforter, and shams. Most of all, I would miss Josh.
I waited for the scamper of tiny puppy nails against the floor and then covered my mouth. “Dee,” I whispered, mourning the loss of him as well.
“Oh, honey,” Aunt Ellen said. “I can’t stay here forever.” She laughed as she continued to rummage through the groceries she’d purchased.
“I’m confused.”
“I’ve been meaning to discuss it with you, but you’ve been so upset. I just thought it would be easier for me to look after you in Florida.”
“I don’t need you to look after me.”
Setting a jar of sauce down on the counter with a loud clank, she gave me a hard stare before sighing. “You have physical therapy, your car was totaled, and you can’t go back to work yet. You can’t be here alone.”
“I have some money saved up, and I have Deb. I’ll be okay for a little while.”
“What about hospital bills, rent, utilities? They didn’t get put on hold just because you were unconscious, sweetheart. Life went on.”
Life went on.
My chest ached, and I wished it were me who hadn’t woken up. I touched my chest, feeling palpable pain in my heart. I needed Josh. I needed our daughter. I would give anything to fall back asleep and be lying next to Josh in our bed, his hand on my belly as Penny kicked.
“I need to use the restroom,” I mumbled as I slowly limped my way past the kitchen. The smell of diced onions turned my stomach as it mingled with the odor of cleaning supplies.
Flipping the light switch, my line of sight lowered to the floor where I had once curled up and cried, knowing my life with Josh was ending.
I let the cane fall to the linoleum floor with a clatter, gripping the edge of the sink. My eyes rose slowly to meet my own reflection.
“Avery? Are you okay, honey?”
“Fine,” I called back.
It was the first time I had seen the aftermath of what the accident had done. A few yellow-gray bruises marred my skin. A deep purple streaked under my sunken eyes. My cheeks were hollow, like my chest felt. I raised my hand, letting my fingertips slide against my skin. I barely recognized myself; I hardly recognized anything. I was stuck two years in the past, with no hope of the same future. I folded into a sobbing mess on the ground, my body unable to support the horrible reality.
“Avery!” Aunt Ellen shrieked as she lunged toward me, lifting my chin to look into my eyes.
A million thoughts flickered in my mind before I rose to the surface. I looked up, expecting to see Josh above me, devastated all over again to see Aunt Ellen.
“No!” I cried, pulling into the fetal position on the floor.
Aunt Ellen sank to her knees, wrapping her arms around me and holding me to her chest. “Should I call Deb?” she asked.
“No, she’s at work. I just passed out,” I said, reaching for my wrist. I counted. “I’m fine. Just weak. I should rest.”
Aunt Ellen helped me up, guiding me to the bed. “Is there someone else you want me to call?”
My husband, I thought, feeling my face crumble.
I rushed through a shower, unable to look away from the spot on the floor where Avery had sat, her knees pulled against her belly, looking betrayed. I couldn’t get her expression out of my mind. Guilt consumed me, knowing the pain I had caused her, and the inevitable pain that awaited her when she woke up.
My eyes burned as tears streamed down, mingling with the hot water from the shower. The gravity of the situation had finally hit me. Even if Avery woke, I could still lose her. Placing my palm against the wall to hold my weight, I let the pain and anger roll through me until I was too exhausted to support my own weight.
“Why couldn’t it be me?” I choked out as my forehead fell against the cold tile. I would have given anything to be the one in that car, to be the one in that hospital bed, lost in an eternal dream state.
The house phone beeped from down the hall, letting me know the answering machine had been overloaded with messages. I ignored the noise. Talking about it with someone else would make it all too real.
Turning off the water, I wrapped myself in a towel and stepped out onto the tile, glowering at my own reflection in the mirror. Purple half-moons bruised the skin beneath my bloodshot eyes, my heartache manifesting itself in my appearance. I looked away, rubbing the fluffy towel over my face, wiping away the water and tears that came flooding back. Avery was all around me, in the pink toothbrush sitting in the holder, the perfume bottle behind the faucet, even the fluffy towel around my waist.
The house felt so empty. Calling it a home without her in it was wrong. The heels of my hands turned white against the edge of the counter. The odds of her coming back to me were slim. I was stuck in a nightmare. Tears trickled down the bridge of my nose, dripping from the tip into the sink.