Page 23 of Lonely Hearts Day

She nodded toward the door leading upstairs. “I was worried they were going to have the divorce talk without me.”

Jack, who was now standing behind her, must’ve heard because he released a cuss word that I rarely heard him use.

My stomach dropped to the floor.

Chapter 9

An hour later, everyone was gone. They had left, clueless about my internal crisis, thanking me and telling me how much fun they had on their way out. Telling me we’d have to get together soon. Giving me suggestions for next year’s party. I didn’t remember the specifics, just that Jack had stood by me at the door, his arm hooked in my elbow. I wondered if he was holding me up or if it just felt that way.

And then he was getting his coat. He looked down at my hand and I realized it was gripping his arm. I quickly dropped it.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asked, letting go of his jacket.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“You can ask me to stay if you need me.”

“It’s okay,” I said.

“I’ll stay.”

Relief poured through me. “Okay, only if you want to.”

He gave me a soft smile. “I’ll wait in your room.” He headed down the hall.

I turned, steeling myself for what was to come.

My family all sat stoic in the living room, the television off, but nobody talking.

Ava was the first to speak. “I’m sorry for messing things up. I thought you knew.”

“I still don’t know,” I said. Probably because I refused to accept what my heart was telling me. My brain couldn’t make sense of it. And hearts were such unreliable sources. “Who’s getting a divorce? Grandma and Grandpa?” That made more sense than the alternative even though they’d been married for fifty plus years.

Evelyn gave me theseriously?look.

“Not you guys,” I said, looking between Mom and Dad. “You’re perfect.”

“Nobody is perfect,” Mom said. “Have a seat.”

I was still lingering in the doorway. I didn’t want to sit down. Sitting down would make it real. But I did anyway. I sat on the open couch cushion between my sisters. My parents sat in separate armchairs like a terrible vision of the future.

“It’s just a separation for now,” Dad said. “A trial period.”

“That’s what people always say before a divorce,” Ava said.

“Why?” I asked. “I don’t understand.”

My parents looked at each other with a sad acceptance. Mom spoke first, “We just fell out of love.”

“Then fall back into it,” I snapped. That seemed like a flimsy excuse, not good enough to destroy an entire family.

“We’re like roommates,” Dad added. “Best friends.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” I asked.

“Imagine being married to Jack,” Evelyn said under her breath.

I shot her a dirty look. Whose side was she on?