Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Josie: Before the Moment
There are ghosts at every corner. In the stolen kisses while I waitressed at the diner, in the town festivals at the square, in the many jokes about Betty Bagley and her pie at the Fall Farmer’s Market, and in the countless nights watching Clay make drinks with that handsome smile of his while I sat on a stool at his bar.
It should all feel familiar and comforting, and yet, it just makes it hard to breathe.
Tonight will be a defining moment for the rest of my life. I have to end it now…before it ends me.
Clay: After the Moment
When Josie and I said “I do,” I thought it’d be us against the world forever. But I wasn’t expecting the world to be so against us. I know I should’ve stayed that night. And I definitely should have gone back sooner.
Because I don’t know how to be here. I don’t know how to be anywhere. I don’t know how to be without Josie at all.
She’s fun and fiery and strong-willed and stands up for the people she loves—even when it borders on reckless. She’s everything good about humanity—my perfect person.
She might say we’re done, but it’s not over. We’ll never be over
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
“In each loss there is a gain,
As in every gain there is a loss,
And with each ending comes a new beginning.”
-Buddhist Proverb
The Moment I Should’ve Stayed: Part 1
Josie
Tuesday, December 20th
Fresh ink stains my fingers, and a sharp ache stabs my heart as I tuck the large envelope into my purse and swallow the very real and ragged pill of what I’ve done.
Of what I’m about to do.
I rush out of the library, heading straight for the streetside parking, and climb into my car as quickly as possible in the hopes that no one will see me. Gossip runs like an Olympic sprinter in Red Bridge, and right now, I need to fly under the radar more than I need my next lungful of oxygen.
I should be cold, freezing my ass off, in fact, but adrenaline is pumping so hard through my veins that it’s impossible for me to notice anything but my heart galloping like a racehorse out of the gates. With a hard crank, I start my car, and the cold air makes the engine rumble with hesitancy. When it finally revs with life, I pull my seat belt across my chest to secure it in the buckle.
A year ago, I never in my wildest dreams imagined I’d be here. A year ago, I was happy. I was healthy. I was hopeful and invincible.
But more than any of those things, I was incredibly and painfully naïve.
Life isn’t the version we view through rose-colored glasses, and love, sometimes, isn’t even close to enough.
Love, in fact, can be the very thing that hurts us the most. It steals our breath and makes fools of our actions. It sinks its teeth into our innocence and begs for happy endings when there aren’t any to be had.
It robs us over and over, and, at some point, you have to stop feeding yourself to it as a victim.
I don’t want to leave, but I can’t stay. I can’t.
My legs are numb, unable to move even with the proverbial train coming right at me. I know Clay would reach out a hand—would sacrifice himself if he had to. But that’s exactly why I have to do this.
With my hand on the stick shift, I glance over at my purse, and the large envelope sticks out poignantly. A stark reminder of why it’s there in the first place, and the D word sits heavy in my mind.
There’s no other option.
I back out of the spot and drive toward Grandma Rose’s house, my vision a blur of routine and simple objects. I see the courthouse and The Diner. I see Earl’s Grocery Store and Fran’s flower shop and Melba’s bakery and the Red Bridge Police Department. And, of course, I see Clay’s bar, The Country Club—the brick-and-mortar that make up nearly every aspect of my life.
But the only thing that registers is heartbreak.
There are ghosts at every corner. In the stolen kisses while I waitressed at The Diner, in the town festivals in the square, in the many jokes about Betty Bagley and her pie at the Fall Farmers Market, and in countless nights spent watching Clay make drinks with that handsome smile of his plastered on his face while I sat on a stool at the bar.
It should all feel familiar and comforting, and yet, it makes it hard for the person I am now to breathe at all.
I wish I’d been stronger. I wish I’d been wiser. I wish I didn’t have to do this.
I wish.
But wishing doesn’t matter anymore, and I can’t turn back time even if I want to.
I have to go. I have to get out and not turn back, and I have to do it as soon as possible.
Sorrow and guilt and grief and shame claw at my throat, and the scratches are deep enough to bleed. My heart tries to compensate, but the loss is too much.
It’s all too much.
I turn into Grandma Rose’s driveway, shut off my car, and go inside to wait.
Tonight will be a defining moment for the rest of my life.
I have to end it now…
…before it ends me.
Before the Moment: Part 1
The Start of It All
1
Clay
Saturday, May 24th
On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it to make yourself a third wheel on a date with strangers?
Generally speaking, I’d rate it at an eleven. It’s tacky and borderline narcissistic—something I’d watch the wealthy pricks from my old life in New York do with sickening confidence and something I’d ride them for every time.
But this isn’t New York, and this date I’m considering cutting in on isn’t just a date.
“Oh, Drew! You’re too much.” Blond curls fly over her shoulder as she turns coy eyes to the schmuck in front of her, and I lean into the bar to watch her in action.
A real-life man-eater, this unbelievably beautiful woman I know through town lore as Josie Ellis, has been inside my bar every Friday night for the last four months, each time with a different man. She teases and taunts and flirts, her siren’s call luring them into the calm waters of overconfidence.