“Every once in a while I see these little pieces of him. I know he’s still in there,” I swallowed hard. “He’s been drunk most of the time.”
Tara bit the inside of her cheek and nodded. “My mom said the few times she’d talked to him he seemed a bit out of it…but she also said you seemed to be that way too.”
My head shot back. “I haven’t been drinking.”
Tara sighed, patting my hand in a way that made me want to smack her.
“You don’t have to be drunk to be out of it,” she commented.
I clenched my jaw as I tried to think of a response.
“It’s fine if you’re pissed at me—it’s just an observation.”
I glared at her. “You don’t get it. I’m afraid there aren’t enough pieces to put back together—that no matter how hard I try nothing is going to fix him. I’ve been alone throughout all of this!” I spat.
Tara’s eyes fell from mine and she ran her fingers over the sheets pooled around her lower body.
“Are you sure the pieces you’re talking about are just pieces of him?”
I could feel the heat rising again, and I stood and went to the window before turning to look back at her.
“I don’t get it—you just woke up and you’re already judging me?”
“I haven’t been completely out of it. I knew the first time you came in here and I smelt that rose what had happened,” her lips twitched as she answered; “I also knew what was happening with you.”
“I’m fine,” I asserted.
She looked up at the ceiling as she took a deep breath.
“Then you should know all the pieces are still there. You just have to have patience to put them back together.”
COMING SUMMER 2014
COPYRIGHT 2014, CASSANDRA GIOVANNI