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Looking at my phone that I left on the kitchen counter I see the missed calls from my mom. I know she’s hurting and feeling lost with my depression, but if only everyone could understand I lost my best friend and husband and I need time to grieve, that would be great. For fuck’s sake I lost the one man I love and you can’t explain that type of pain. This type of pain sears through your body in a constant movement. It never goes away. I find myself looking at the door or waiting for my phone to ring and it breaks my heart over and over again because I know he’ll never walk through those doors and I’ll never hear his voice. On top of losing Evan, I’ve lost sight for the meaning of life. Everything’s changed and sometimes I don’t want to see a tomorrow. There’s no end to my grief and this journey is never ending.

Aimlessly walking around my house I stare at the blank television and imagine Evan sitting next to me. We’re holding hands and things are good and comfortable. After sitting on the couch for a while I finally get up and go back to the kitchen. In front of me are stacks of mail and I turn away. I can’t look at anything and frankly I don’t care.

It’s June now and I didn’t go back to school and teach. I’ve lost the desire to teach and as understanding as the school was I know they’re disappointed. I’m disappointed too. I miss my students and I miss teaching, but I just couldn’t do it. Standing in the middle of class, teaching students about the theme and symbolism of the book, or teaching seniors about college and entering the real world or helping my squad make it to states; it’s all trivial. It’s all not worth it. If I don’t have the fight and strength in me then how do I expect my students to fight for their passion of literature.

Putting my head down I close my eyes for a moment and pretend to be whole again. Hearing the door open and close I don’t move. I know it’s Tonya and I know she’s up to some crazy idea that I’ll want to do something. When I lift my head and open my eyes Tonya’s smiling and has a skip to her step.

“Hey.” She smiles and walks in with a bag of food and coffee. “How are you?”

“The same,” I respond weakly. “I’m sorry for calling you a bad friend. You aren’t. I’m just mad and I don’t know how to handle it.”

“I know, babe. I know.” She puts down the food and coffee and starts to grab plates and silverware. “Have you had anything to eat?” I shake my head. “Okay good. I have pancakes, fruit, bacon, home fries and coffee.”

“Thank you. I’m not that hungry.”

“Eat what you can, okay?” I nod my head and start putting some food on my plate. I grab a pancake, a strip of bacon and some home fries. I’ll save the fruit for later. Taking the coffee I slowly take a sip and enjoy the taste of caffeine with some cream and sugar. Not too much sweetness because coffee shouldn’t taste like candy.

“Thank you, Tonya.”

“You’re welcome. So do you want to do anything today?”

“We can try,” I smile and try to mean it. Tonya’s doing the best she can and if she’s not giving up on me then I shouldn’t give up on me. Maybe going out for a walk or spending time by the pool will help.

“Do you want to walk the canal? Maybe check out some shops and stop to get a cupcake?”

“Sure,” I tell her, “that sounds like fun.”

We finish our breakfast and I head back upstairs to get ready. Quickly taking a shower I throw on a pair of Capri yoga pants and a light purple V-neck tee shirt. Sitting down on my bed I turn and look at the picture of Evan and me.

“I’m going out today, Evan,” I explain with some happy emotion. “Tonya’s here and I think today will be fun.” I stop talking and take a moment to catch my breath. “Will you be near me today?”

When we get home I feel a little better and relaxed. Tonya makes us a dinner of grilled chicken salad and we sit outside on the deck.

“Do you want to keep talking?”

I sigh and sip on my white wine. Tonya is the only person I’ll talk to about Evan. She knows me and understands my struggles with accepting his death. The reality of the situation is I don’t think I’ll let go especially with the guilt and pain from our marriage. “Evan and I weren’t perfect. We tried and I don’t know. When I was going through his things I felt something.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Something felt off or maybe it’s just me.”

“You know he loved you from the bottom of his heart. I don’t think there should be anything you should feel weird about,” Tonya reassures me.

I let out a laugh. “He was going to ask for a new assignment. He wanted to teach at the academy because of me and I think he resented me.”

“That’s normal. Clarke resents me all the time when I bring up retiring and starting a family. I mean, I get it, he’s thirty-five and doesn’t see himself being a dad, but I want to be a mom. I want more.”

“That’s how I feel too,” I explain. “But there were so many times he stormed out of the house and I have no idea where he went. I tried, Tonya. And sometimes I think this is karma biting me in the ass.”

“No. Don’t say that.” Her reassuring tone helps, but I know the truth deep inside. Sometimes we as humans can’t see what’s in front of us because when we open our eyes the truth is staring back at us and sometimes it’s what we don’t want to know.

“The week before he died we got into a fight because he was spending so much time at the bar. When he came home I smelled perfume on him and I screamed that I hope he dies. Then, he does. So what does that say?”

“It says you were hurt and allowed your emotions to get in the way. It happens, babe. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“I know and it’s not like our marriage was toxic. I just think partly we got comfortable. You know? And what if he was cheating on me?” The thought kills me. I never had to venture out or was curious about other men.

Each night when Evan came home I swore he smelled like sex. I checked the cell phone records and everything was clean, but I knew Evan and his intelligence. One night when he came home I took his car keys and looked through his car. Nothing stood out to me. It was probably all in my head, but what married man goes to the bar every weekend without his wife?

Tonya reaches over and takes my hand into hers. She smiles and nods and without having me explain more I know she gets it. We get each other. Both of our husbands are officers and when they’re gone there’s a piece of you that goes with them. You worry and wonder if they’re going to be okay. That void eats away at you until you hear the door open and see them walking through the door.

And Evan didn’t make it out of the restaurant. He’s never going to come back through the doors and give me a hug. We’re never going to feel the passion or fight about something stupid. I miss him and will always miss him, but I have to find a way to move on before I become the crazy cat lady.

“Okay, enough of this. Let’s hit up a bar and let loose a little.” We’ve been drinking wine for a few hours and I am a little tipsy. Thinking about Evan and his possible cheating ass makes me mad. Thinking about him possibly being unfaithful doesn’t sit well with me and I don’t want to think about it. I want to drink and let the alcohol do the thinking and talking.

“No,” I instantly say. “No. Not going, Tonya. I have a lot of wine here. We can sit and drink. Going out doesn’t mean anything to me.”

An evil smirk comes on her face and I know I’ll be going to the bar with her and most likely will regret it.

I hate my best friend.

We’ve been drinking shots and mixed drinks for the past hour and are having a good time. I’m laughing and smiling and not allowing my sadness to take over. It’s girl’s night and we’re making the bar our bitch.

“Another round, sir,” Tonya slurs to the bartender and he smiles while shaking his head.

“Another orgasm?”

“Oh yes, please, baby.” She throws back her head and laughs. Seriously my five-foot-one, curvy as hell, blonde hair and blue-eyed best friend is too much. I shake my head and finish my drink by the time hottie bartender hands us our shots. Tonya turns to me and raises her shot glass. “To my partner in crime. Tonight’s for you, babe, so live it up and drink it down because you’re going to smile again.” This does make me smile and after we clink our shot glasses and take the delicious concoction someone puts their arm around me and I jerk away.

“Hey,” the strange man slurs and kisses my cheek.

“Excuse me,” I push away and look at Tonya. “No thank you. As you can see I’m here with my friend, so please leave.”

“Is this seat empty?”

“Yes, and this one will be if you sit down.” I smirk and see that my rejection towards his dumb pick-up line is exciting him.

“So you know quickie has u and I together.”

I burst out laughing, turning to Tonya and the bartender who are enjoying this little scene. “Too bad ugly starts with u,” I tell him and hopefully now he gets the hint.

“Oh come on. I saw you checking me out.”

“Ah no. You should probably get yourself checked because there’s no way I would have been checking you out,” I let him know. Usually guys take the hint kind of fast, but this one needs a few reminders of me not being interested. Liquid courage, thank goodness. “Leave, okay?”

Tonya and I move to the other side of the bar and I see her taking out her phone, but don’t ask what she’s doing. Knowing her it’s going to be another selfie. The next twenty minutes pass and I desperately have to pee. Telling Tonya I’ll be back, I get up from the barstool and head to the bathroom. After doing my business I wash my hands and look in the mirror.

“You’re having fun. This will be okay,” I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. “You’ll be okay.” Smiling and reapplying some more gloss I head back out when I feel arms grabbing my waist and pulling me back.

“I knew you wanted me,” I hear his sick familiar voice again.

“Let me go, asshole,” I tell him and try to break away. Everything Evan and Mason have taught me goes blank and I freeze. I frantically look around for Tonya or someone. I try to scream for help and nothing comes out. I’m frozen.

“I know you want me. Stop denying it. Girls always go together to the bathroom and here you are . . . alone.” I feel his hot breath against my neck and his hand slowly sliding up my dress. “Don’t fight it.”

“Tonya!” I scream. “Tonya!” I close my eyes and keep trying to break free when all of a sudden I’m up against the wall.

“What the fuck!” I hear him scream and open my eyes to find Mason punching the creeper.

“Caroline!” I turn to see Tonya, and I run to her. “Oh, are you okay?” I nod and refuse to look away.

“Get up, you filthy animal. You’re under arrest for assault.” I look up and see Mason in his uniform. He’s handcuffing the creeper and gives me a look. I nod my head and he smiles.

“Come on, let’s go home,” Tonya says and we walk out after Mason.

When we get home, Clarke is waiting outside and helps Tonya carry me in since I’m way too drunk to even walk. I didn’t want to go out. I didn’t look at the creeper and I didn’t do anything wrong.

I feel dirty.

I feel wrong.

I feel . . .