Page 59 of Say You'll Stay
That realization, that hidden kernel of weakness, ignites a spark of fury in my chest. It burns through the fog of shock, the haze of despair, until I’m vibrating with it. With the sheer, unadulterated rage of a woman scorned.
“Get out.”
The words hang between us, a razor’s edge. June flinches, raw devastation etching into the lines of his face. “Cara, please. Let me explain, let me—”
“I said get out!” I don’t recognize my own voice, twisted and seething with a vitriol that frightens me. “Now, June. Before I call the fucking cops and have you arrested for invasion of privacy.”
His eyes widen, fear and disbelief warring across his features. “You wouldn’t.”
I lift my chin, a silent challenge. “Try me.”
We stare at each other for a charged, awful moment, the ruins of our love scattered at our feet. I can see the moment he realizes I’m serious, that there’s no salvaging this, no pretty words that can bandage the hemorrhaging wounds.
Slowly, as if the very act is physical agony, he turns to leave. At the threshold, he pauses, throwing one last, shattered look over his shoulder. “I never stopped loving you, Cara Mia. Not for one second. I hope one day…one day you can believe that.”
The soft click of the door closing behind him is a gunshot, a gavel strike. I stand motionless, frozen in the wreckage of my life, until I hear his car start up, the sound fading into the distance.
Only then do I allow myself to break.
Sobs wrack my body, great, heaving things that claw their way up from some primal, agonized place deep in my chest. I’m drowning in it, in the tar-thick misery that coats my lungs, chokes my breath.
Through the haze of grief, one coherent thought crystallizes.
Sonya. I need Sonya.
Scrabbling for my phone with trembling fingers, I dial her number. She picks up on the first ring, as if she’s been waiting for this call all along.
“Cara? What’s wrong?” Her voice is sleep-rough but immediately alert, concern thrumming through each word. “Are you okay?”
“No.” It comes out as a strangled croak, barely recognizable. “Sonya, I need you. Can you…can you come over? Please?”
“I’ll be there in ten.” There’s rustling in the background, the jingle of keys. “Just hang on, okay? I’m on my way.”
I don’t remember hanging up, don’t remember sinking to the floor. All I know is the cold press of hardwood against my bare legs, the way my lungs strain for air that won’t come.
Time slips sideways, unspools in fits and starts. It could be hours or heartbeats before I hear the key turning in the lock, the quick, light tread of Sonya’s steps.
Then she’s there, dropping to her knees and pulling me into her arms without a word. I collapse into her, boneless, a marionette with cut strings. Violent, wrenching sobs shake me, staining the soft cotton of her shirt with saltwater.
“Oh, Cara,” she murmurs, rocking me gently. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. I’m here, I’m here.”
I don’t know how long we stay like that, curled around each other in the dimness of my living room. Eventually, the tears subside, leaving me wrung out and aching. Sonya eases back, smoothing sweat-damp hair from my face with gentle fingers.
“What happened, sweet pea?” she asks softly, though I suspect she already knows. My sister’s always been intuitive like that, attuned to my turbulent emotional currents.
Haltingly, in fits and starts, I tell her. The words feel like broken glass in my throat, slicing me open from the inside. Sonya listens without comment, though I can feel the tension thrumming through her, the barely restrained urge to find June and rip him apart with her bare hands.
When I finish, she’s quiet for a long, considering moment. Then, with a soft sigh, she presses a tender kiss to my forehead.
“I’m not going to insult you by saying everything’s going to be okay,” she murmurs, her lips brushing my skin. “Because right now, I know it feels like your world is ending. Like you’ll never be whole again.”
I make a small, hurt sound, burrowing deeper into her embrace. She tightens her arms around me, a silent promise.
“But I will say this, Cara Briers. You are the strongest, most resilient woman I know. You have weathered storms that would break lesser people, and you’ve come out the other side every single time.”
She pulls back, framing my face with her hands. Her eyes, so like my own, blaze with a fierce, protective love.
“This is going to hurt like hell. It’s going to feel like dying, like every breath is a battle. But you will survive this. We will get you through this, no matter how long it takes. You hear me?”