Page 13 of Unravel Me

“Good.” Ky threw back the rest of his beer, then walked into the house to use the bathroom.

I shook out my legs, ripping off a piece of chicken for my dog, who swallowed it in a millisecond. My mind raced thinking about Johnny—the low life who knocked up my sister six years ago then skipped town. He never met my nieces or spoke to my sister again. I was there to pick up the pieces, making sure those girls never went without a father figure in their life. Five years ago, I ran into him in a bar and overheard him saying some choice words about my sister, Desi.

That was the night I ended up in county jail, Johnny right in there with me. Both of us with black eyes. Not my most proudest moment, but since that night he hasn’t missed a single child support payment. I can’t say I regret it, though I promised my mom and sister I'd never do something like that again, and I’ve kept my word.

It takes a lot to provoke me now. But I'll always defend my family.

That’s not something you can shake out of me.

Ky came back out, nearly tripping on the loose back steps. “Dude, you want to tell me why your back steps are a death trap when you literally have a woodshop with every tool fifty feet away?”

“You sound like my sister.” I shook my head, eyeing the rotted wood steps. “I fix and build crap all day. The last thing I want to do is fix things in my house. I’m going to get to it eventually.”

Ky looked at me like I was delusional. “You got long legs anyway, jump next time,” I added, and we both laughed.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Ky cracked another beer as I pulled a cigarette from my front shirt pocket. A habit I was trying to kick. I was down to two a day.

“And yet, here you are, hanging out with me.”

He had nothing to say back. We fought like brothers, but I knew Ky would do anything for me. And vice versa.

It’s why I agreed to go to the Bourbon Barrel tomorrow night for his thirtieth birthday. The bar was a bit too loud and rowdy, even for me. But he wanted to leave his twenties with a bang, so I agreed.

It’s not like I had anywhere better to be on a Saturday night.

Chapter nine

Audrey

Itried to avoid looking at the clock all day, but my self-sabotaging instincts kicked in and at quarter to six, I let myself lament. In a parallel universe where I was still engaged, toasts would now be starting at the lakeside venue of my engagement party. My parents would’ve raised their champagne flutes, saying something sappy for the sake of their public image, and I would’ve been tucked into Jackson’s side, wearing the white silk dress that is still sitting in a puddle on the floor in my closet. I’m pretty sure I should burn it at this point.

The self-pity that was festering in my bones was starting to annoy me, though. And it wasn’t like I was reeling with options of people to reach out to. My so-called ‘friends’ disappeared the moment Jackson and I split. Their loyalty had always been to Jackson, and deep down I knew that all along. Penny, of course, was the outlier, but she had met some guy at the wedding she was photographing last night. She said he was a European athlete and only here for one night so naturally I didn’t hear from her all day. I couldn’t blame her; she was out living her best single gal life to the fullest.

It’s also been near radio silence from Jackson. He texted me and said his lawyer would be reaching out soon about the house in Forest Hills. His lawyer…because there was no our, us, or we anymore. It’s like the last five years were figments of my imagination.

Though on the surface of the life we lived together, nothing had changed this week. The bills were all paid, the housekeeper showed up yesterday morning like she does every Friday, and the groceries were delivered this morning. Just like it was another routine Saturday morning in the Brecken Building.

My parents had also been very—dare I say—chill about everything. I was expecting more persuasion to mend my broken engagement, even if I made it clear it was unfixable. Every time I opened my front door to grab deliveries or let the housekeeper in, I half expected to see my mother with her stern face staring straight back at me. Their silence over the matter was almost more unnerving, but I wasn’t about to test my luck and wake a sleeping bear.

Just a few hours ago both my phone notifications and the apartment were so silent, I thought I might truly go mad. I didn’t want to listen to any more self-loathing thoughts about how much I truly messed up, so I put on my sneakers and walked. I was only a little walk away from a row of boutiques, so I popped into the stationary store.

I moseyed around, feigning interest in items I had no use for just to avoid being talked to. There was a beautiful little leather notebook with a brass latch which last week's version of me would’ve bought to write grocery lists in, but now it all seemed trivial. I picked it up, though, to fan through the blank pages.

What could I write about now? My failed engagement? Being the family black sheep? I could write about running away from the pressures of home and then it catching back up to you in a different life. I went from needing to be perfect for my parents and the society they shoved me into, to needing to be perfect for a man who didn’t respect or love me enough to fight for me.

I set the notebook down, abruptly walked out of the shop and straight home.

Penny is supposed to be here any moment for our agreed upon evening. Grab a bite to eat, then back to her place to chill and have drinks.

The doorbell chimes, but the door opens moments later as I sit back on the sofa.

“I’m in the living room!”

“Oh my god, Audrey, I could’ve been anyone. You could get murdered that way.”

She comes in hot, bringing her big personality and strong floral perfume into the living room. I look up at her from my pathetic stance on the white, down-filled sofa.

“Okay, first, you need to stop listening to those true crime podcasts. Only you and Jackson have the door code. And second, I thought we agreed we were wearing loungewear.”