Brian and I got up early and dressed silently in nice clothes. He’d bought a blue tie and a white button-up shirt and wore them with his good black jeans. I put on a pale blue dress that I’d had forever.

   We spent the rest of the morning standing and sitting and kneeling. Watching pretty little girls in white dresses and veils and handsome young boys in their black suits taking their First Holy Communion. I sat with Brian beside the Burkes and all four of Cassidy’s grandparents. We watched her kneel in front of the priest and receive--for the first time--the Body of Christ. Then the Burkes and the grandparents and the rest of the believers did the same. Except for me, because I knew: No repentance. No Confession. No Communion.

  No forgiveness.

   It was a poor congregation, but a beautiful church. Fourteen pictures lined the walls, depicting the suffering of Christ. The Way of the Cross. I studied each one.

   1: Jesus is Condemned to Death.

   Because Pontius Pilate was too weak to prevent Injustice.

   4: Jesus Meets His Blessed Mother.

   And I wondered--not for the first time--if Rachel was with her mother. Right now.

   12: Jesus Dies on the Cross.

   What were Rachel’s last moments like? What were her last words? Had she called out for Brian? For me? For her mother? Had she said a prayer; begged for her life? Had she said anything at all? Maybe she just went quietly. Just finally stopped fighting…

   And when it was over we gave Cassidy big hugs. Brian took lots of pictures of her and told her how beautiful she was. Told her he loved her. Then we followed the Burke’s car back to their house for lunch and cake. We even stayed for supper, stayed long after the grandparents had all left, because we hadn’t been to the Burkes since before Rachel died. And because it felt nice to be in a home with smiles that were real. And before we left I asked Jeff to, please, take a picture of Brian and me because it’s the first time we’ve been anywhere together all dressed up. It was true, but it wasn’t the real reason I wanted the picture. An image of us frozen forever. The real reason was this:

   Right before he stood up and said it was time for us to go, I caught Brian staring at me from across the room. His eyes were brimming with tears, but they were more alert than they had been in months. I wasn’t sure exactly what he was thinking about as he was staring. But I knew what it meant.

   He drove us from the home that was filled with real smiles towards the one that didn’t even pretend to smile anymore. But we didn’t ride in silence. I talked all the way. Nervous chatter about white dresses and finger sandwiches and pink frosting. But no matter how much I talked about things that didn’t matter, it still only took us a few minutes to get home. I grabbed his hand and held it tight as we walked towards the house, held it, still, as we stepped into the kitchen. Even as we walked into the bedroom. We took off our church clothes and I waited, naked, for him to look at me. He didn’t until he was fully dressed, in an old t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants, but when he did his let his gaze linger. Everywhere. And that was when I knew. For real.

   He waited for me to get dressed, then he grabbed my hand again. I let him pull me into the living room, even though I didn’t want to go. We sat down on the couch, still holding hands and sitting so close together. So close. On the same couch where we’d sat a hundred times at least. Where we’d watched television and laughed and snuggled and fucked. We’d sat here together months ago while Rachel told him a story that began like this:

   As I sat there, still afraid, more afraid than I’d been in forever, I tried to think of something I could say to him, something that would make him change his mind. But there was nothing. No words. Just like always.

   He cleared his throat and finally spoke.

   “I love you, Tess. I really do.”

   I believed him. I really did.

   He didn’t say it. So I did. And then I finished it for him.

   “But...this is it. It’s over.”

   I gave him a few more seconds. Gave him enough time to say:

   But he didn’t. So I finished the rest.

   “Because I’m always gonna be the reason Rachel died.”

   “No.” He was adamant. “That’s not it. Rachel was...what happened to her wasn’t your fault. It’s not that.”

   “It’s just that...I can’t do this right now. I can’t be with you. Not when I’m like this. I can’t do all the things I’m supposed to do, all the things you need me to do. I’m…I feel dead inside. I can barely think. I can’t work. I just stand there like a fucking idiot trying to figure out what the hell is going on while my guys are doing everything. I can’t…damn it, I can’t even take care of myself, let alone take care of you.”

   “Brian, I--”

   “Please let me talk. Okay?”

   I nodded, even though I didn’t want him to talk. It didn’t matter which words he used, because they would all boil down to one horrible, heartbreaking word. And I didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to hear the way goodbye sounded in his voice…

   “I’ve got too much shit piled up on top of me and I need to get out from underneath it. I’ve been underneath it for too long and I don’t know what to do about it, ‘cause I never really dealt with it. And now that I don’t have Rachel here to distract me from it...I just…I just gotta deal with it now. And I’m not dragging you into it with me, Tess. Can you understand that?”

   “No, Brian, I can’t. If we were married it would be for better or worse. Right? And if I’d said yes right away to the saving-for-a-house question, and not hesitated like an idiot, then I’d have a ring right now that would mean I’d have to stay. So doesn’t it mean more that I want to stay? That I’m here because I love you, and not just because a piece of jewelry says I have to be here? I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. And I’ll help you with--”

   “Help me? Tess...you can’t help me. Not with anything. You can’t even help you. ‘Cause you’re buried in shit of your own, just as bad as I am. Maybe even worse, I don’t know. I don’t know. Because I don’t even know what the hell your problem really is. But if I thought I could...I don’t know, make things better for you I’d try. ‘Cause you need it. And believe me, Tess, there is nothing I’d love better. It would be a hell of a lot easier for me to do that than to deal with my own problems. But even if I could…you don’t want that. You never did, even though I tried. I really did. And even if you started letting me…right now I just can’t do it.” He shrugged. “Maybe I’m not supposed to. Maybe that’s not my job. I don’t know. And that’s the problem, Tess, the real problem. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do. I just…I don’t know.”

   I had never seen so much misery on a face. I knew I was miserable, too, even though I couldn’t feel it. I only knew that it was there, somewhere inside of me. A vague pain. An almost-ache. And I knew that it wasn’t ever going away. Not if I stayed with him and not if I left. And I sure as hell didn’t want to leave.

   “Listen. Brian, I’m okay. I’m fine. You don’t have to--”

   “Fine? Really?”

   “Yeah. Yes. I am.”

   He shook his head. “You’re not fine, Tess. You haven’t been fine since the day I met you. You weren’t fine before that, either.”

   I pulled my hand away from his. “That is a shitty thing to say.”

   “Maybe, but it’s the truth. Why don’t you tell me something, Tess. Why is it that you’re satisfied to just exist? To live in half a house that’s falling apart? How can you paint all these awesome pictures—create all this fucking amazing, honest art—and then just let it rot on the wall upstairs? And why do you lie to yourself and say you don’t want kids when you really do? And make just enough money to pay your bills and not any more than that, even though you work your ass off and could make--”

   “Money? What the hell does money have to do with anything?”

   “It’s not the money, Tess. It’s you. It’s...it’s about worth. And feeling like you have some. I know you don’t think you do and I’ve tried so fucking hard to help you see that you’re wrong.”

   He sighed. Then he sat up straighter and set his jaw. Determined. Focused. I recognized this look; this Brian. Mr. Fix It was back. And even though he had always irritated me before, this time I didn’t mind him. In fact I almost smiled because I knew what it meant that he was here. It meant that Brian still loved me.

   But then he pulled out his hammer.

   “Look. I know your mom was--”

   “Wait a minute. You just leave my mother out of this. I fucking hate all that Freudian ‘tell me about your mother’ bullshit. If you want to talk about mothers why don’t you talk about your own. Because she screwed you up bad, too.”

   And then there was silence. Lots of it. Because it was a low blow and I hadn’t meant to say it.

   “I am so sorry, Brian. I really didn’t mean that.”

   But he only shrugged. “Don’t be sorry. You’re right. She didn’t mean to, but...she did.”
Just like that. She did. Like it was easy. Like it was no big deal. He held my hand again, looked right into my eyes. His were glowing, almost like they used to before Rachel died. Just like he still loved me. Even though he didn’t want me anymore.

   “I’m gonna tell you something, Tess. I fell in love with you the first time we met. Right out there in the front yard. You looked so frigging sad and lost and all I wanted to do is hold you and keep you safe. But there was something else there…something about the way you smiled. There was something going on inside of you that made it so you weren’t just gonna roll over and give up. And that’s what I fell in love with. The woman I saw that first day. But now...Jesus, you’re killing her, Tess. You’re crushing her and I don’t know how to make you stop doing it. And it’s not just because of Rachel. I’ve been fighting this battle with you all along. And I’m too tired to keep fighting. I can’t do it right now. Okay? I’m just so...fucking tired.”

   “I know. I know, I’m sorry. I’ll--it’ll be different. I promise--”

   “No it won’t. And besides, Tess…I haven’t got what it is you need, either. Not right now anyway. But I still love you. I love you so fucking much. And maybe...I don’t know. Maybe we just need a little time to get our shit together. And after that…maybe someday we can--”

   “No. No, Brian. That’s not how it works. If we’re gonna wait for someday then we might as well stay together and fight it out. But if you think this is it...if you think it’s over, then that’s it. Period. Because I can’t just sit around waiting to see if someday you’re gonna come knocking on my door.”

   There. I’d said it. He’d know what goodbye meant for real and he’d take it back so we could figure out what to do. To make it alright again.

   But he didn’t. He said:

  “You’re right. That wouldn’t be fair to you. Or to me.”

   “What?”

   Of course it wasn’t right. Because he still loved me, I could see it. It was right...there. And I knew exactly how to make him understand. It wasn’t over at all.

   I let go of his hand and touched his cheek, gently. It was rough with end-of-the-day whiskers, the kind I loved best. And I kissed him, just as gently; the same way he had kissed me on our first night. The kind of kiss that would tell him that I loved him, more than anything, and when he kissed me back it was full of tenderness and fire. I opened my eyes so I could see his face, because I knew what I’d see there. Love and hope and safety. I’d see the Something there that would remind me that everything was going to be alright. That it was alright.

   His eyes were open, too; they’d been open the whole time. But they were filled with tears, with sadness, with pain. It was the same way he’d looked at me at the Burkes’ house. It was there again because he knew.

   It was our last kiss.

   “No!”

   I rolled over on top of him, straddled him, kissed him again, but it was different now. Trembling lips and shaking, desperate hands, everywhere; his face and chest and hair. His were on me, too, my legs and ass and back, then underneath my shirt, because he knew--he knew--that I wasn’t wearing a bra. I’d done it on purpose, because I’d known it would come to this and I knew it was going to be alright. It was going to happen again, see Brian? See? You’re just fine. Both of us are. Because there’s passion still here, there’s still love, I could feel it, feel him, hard underneath me, underneath his sweatpants. It was working and now--right now--everything was alright…

   But he broke away. Took his mouth away from mine, took his hands away.

   “No, Tess.” He took in a deep, shaky breath and said it again. “No.”

   I didn’t move. Just held his face in my hands and looked right into his eyes.

   “Yes. You want it, too. You want me.”

   He swallowed hard, and his hands were shaking. “Yes I do.”

   I smiled. “Okay, then.”

   But he shook his head. Wouldn’t let me kiss him again.

   “Brian…why…”

   “Because I love you, Tess. I love you.”

   He cleared his throat to make his voice stop trembling. A single tear slid down his cheek. And I knew…

   Then he said it.

   “And I’m not letting you leave here tonight thinking that you’re nothing more to me than just a fuck. I don’t want you to go away thinking that’s all you’re worth.”

   I stared at him, trying to absorb what it was he’d said. But I couldn’t. They were words. Just words. And I knew what they really meant.

   So I did the only thing I could do. I got off of him and pulled down my shirt, stumbled into the bedroom--the one that was just his again--and grabbed my bra from his bed. Then I collected my purse and keys and coat from the peg in the kitchen. And I walked out the door without another word.

   I climbed the fourteen stairs, unlocked the door with shaking hands, and tossed my stuff onto the table. I stood there for a moment, waiting for the breakdown that would surely come. In just a moment I’d need to run into the bathroom and kneel over the toilet, powerless again as it all came up; the vomit and the tears and what was left of my soul. I waited for an eternity, clutching a chair, but nothing happened. There was nothing inside of me that needed to come up. Nothing inside of me at all.

   I took quick, quiet footsteps into the living room, because I knew how loud they would sound to Brian. He was probably crying down there, right now, while I stood in front of the window without any tears. I knew I should be crying, too, because it’s what you’re supposed to do when you lose someone you love. But I just stood there and shivered. I tried to look outside, into the darkness, but only saw my reflection. I relaxed my eye muscles and tried to see past it, but I couldn’t. All I could see was me. And I didn’t like it.

   I closed my eyes, squeezed them shut; tried to will his voice away. I even covered my ears with my hands, just like a kid. But it wasn’t going to work. I knew it.

  I needed something different, something else, and I knew what it was. I needed the Something I always needed to make it go away, all of the voices.

   I knew it would be easy to go out and find the Something, but I couldn’t do it to him. Couldn’t force him to listen to the squeaky bed. So I stood there instead, in front of the window, and forced his voice away, forced his questions away with a few of my own.

   Because there was still love there, love that was hot and beautiful and real. But it was over anyway. Over and he was gone. No more dark mischievous eyes and soft, warm kisses. No more sweet whispers in my ears or strong arms around me in the middle of the night, no more heart beating against my back. The heartbeat that told me I was safe…safe and loved…

   And still I felt nothing. Somewhere deep inside me there was searing pain because it was over. Because he was gone. But it was underneath the ice, underneath the hard, packed soil where I couldn’t feel it. Where I couldn’t feel anything.

   I let my gaze follow the window sill and drift over to the wall, to the spot Brian had fixed for me so I didn’t have to pay a security deposit. I took three more quiet steps and touched it. Barely visible, just like he’d promised. Then I touched the closet door. I looked at the doorknob for a long, horrible moment. And I knew. If I turned that doorknob and pulled on it and opened that door, I’d find the answer to what the hell happened to us and what did I do wrong? So I opened the door. Because even though I knew, I still had to see it.

   And there it was. A pile of empty boxes. Broken down and stacked neatly. They had been waiting here for me all along.

  Except that I had known. I’d known this day would come. I’d been waiting for it. Because there was no such thing as forever.

   I closed the door again so I wouldn’t have to look at Fear anymore. But even though the door was closed the Fear was still there. Right. There.

   And I knew that it always would be.