Time was going impossibly slowly; it was barely eleven in the morning on Day 1 post-Kael. I couldn’t get him out of my mind: he made his home there with a constant presence—and worse than that, there were traces of him were everywhere in my house. As I dug through my drawers for something light and easy to wear, I saw the satin pajamas. And his gray PT shirt was folded neatly next to them. Even my fingers ached for him. Fuck him, honestly.
Maybe if I cleaned myself up, had a shower, and brushed my teeth, I might feel a little less zombie-like. At minimum, the tasks would distract me. I walked to the kitchen to throw my dirty laundry into the washer, then went into the bathroom, where I grabbed Kael’s stupid gross toothpaste and tossed it into the trash can. When I missed, it hit an already loose wall tile that cracked into pieces, hitting the floor. Fuck this house, and how it knows just how badly I need him to fix my life.
And then I thought about my own advice to my childhood friend, Sammy, after she and Austin broke up for the fourth time. I reminded her that he was only a teeny tiny little part of her life, that in five years he wouldn’t matter. No one in our school in Texas would matter to us. Not even the cool kids would matter when we were grown-ups. She said she’d never fully be able to forget him because he was my twin and our laugh was the same. We got distant after she and Austin split, and her marriage soon thereafter made it harder to keep in touch. Eventually she faded from my life like everyone else had.
I turned on the music and looked into the mirror. My dark hair washed out my tired face more than usual, and I thought about coloring it. I crouched down and opened the cabinet. Sure enough, I had a box of dye. A lighter brown than my hair was now, but not too drastic of a change.
Screw it, I decided.
I had the house to myself for the rest of the afternoon and I’d been thinking of changing my hair for a while anyway; it would be a few months until I could afford to go to the salon to get it done. I ripped the box open and followed the instructions, even though I knew how to do it by now. I mixed the dye, shook the bottle, and applied it carefully to my hair over the sink. I had lost count of how many times I’d changed my hair color in my life. My mom let me use temporary dye, a dark blue, when I was twelve. I would never forget the look on my father’s face when he came downstairs to see my mom and I both with deep blue streaks in our hair.
I set a timer for twenty minutes on my phone and rummaged through my cabinet to see what other luxuries I had. I found a face mask to use after the shower and grabbed my nail file and tweezers. I leaned my face to the mirror and brushed my eyebrows with a little brush meant for tooth flossing. My thick brows could definitely use a little shaping; I held the tweezers up and brought my face closer to the mirror. In my reflection, my hand was shaking, so I traded hands. The right hand was even worse, and because I had already committed to hair dye with no guarantee of the outcome, I didn’t want to risk messing my eyebrows up, too. I wasn’t that far gone.
I stood outside the shower, impatient for the water to heat up. Steam began to fill the bathroom after only a few seconds, and that annoyed me. Another reminder of Kael—Mr. Fucking Handyman. Fuck the shower. The water was warm and the pressure luxurious, and I decided to take the longest shower I could. I applied a conditioning mask to my hair and shaved my legs. Holding the razor made me think of Kael in front of my mirror and how often he had to shave due to regulations. How hard was it going to be to untangle him completely from my memories? I closed my eyes and let the water spray directly onto my face. I asked the universe, but since it felt like no one was listening anyway, I answered my own question. It would be as easy as throwing away his toothpaste and never going near post until he was gone. I was done breaking my own rules and would just focus on my job and getting my shit together. I didn’t have the time or energy for chasing liars in ACUs around, and this was the end of it.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
The shower had helped me feel relaxed enough to take a nap. Sleeping the day away made me feel better, but I still looked like hell. I had fallen asleep with wet hair and, even though the color was more flattering than I had expected, I woke to a frizzy mess; the way I looked now went right along with the mania I felt. I threw on black sweats and a baggy black T-shirt and pinched my cheeks to bring a little color to the surface.
I heard Elodie’s voice as soon as I stepped into the hallway. If her shift was already over, I must have been asleep for a long time. It sounded like she was hushing someone in conversation, but when I peered around the corner, she was alone in the dark living room with her laptop on her lap. A man’s voice was coming through the speaker.
“Don’t lie to me,” he said in an accusatory tone.
I thought I heard him wrong, but he said it again. This time his words seemed even more demeaning. I didn’t want to intrude, but I was concerned for Elodie.
“Cooper’s wife told me that you were over there. His wife tells him everything, unlike mine.”
Phillip? Shit.
Elodie was crying. I had to hold on to the door handle of the hallway closet to stop myself from butting into the conversation and her business. I didn’t know what Phillip was talking about, but I knew I didn’t like the sound of his voice. I had never seen that side of him or heard it. I couldn’t tell if his wife was used to it or not. I immediately wondered if Phillip was, like Kael, not what he seemed.
“I’m not lying,” she pleaded. “We stopped there for an hour at most. We went to the meetings, then to that house. There weren’t any guys around.”
My phone in my hand dinged as my brother’s name popped up on my screen. I knew Elodie must have heard it, but I tapped my fingers against the wall, just in case, to let her know I was coming into the room. She perked up and wiped at her tears.
“Phillip, Karina’s just walked in,” she cautioned him.
“Hey, Karina,” Phillip said, his voice nice and friendly, a complete transformation from what it had been.
I threw him a bland “hey” and walked into the kitchen. My intrusion seemed to stop their conversation. I decided to stay out of the living room and wait for Elodie to finish. Dishes were piling up in the sink. Wet laundry had accumulated in the washing machine and I opened the dryer to clear it, feeling taunted yet again by Kael as I placed folded clothes in the basket. I couldn’t even blame the mess on my emotional despair because the breakup had happened barely twelve hours ago.
Elodie signed off Skype and met me in the kitchen as I stood washing the dishes. She didn’t seem ready to say anything for a few minutes, and I kept myself busy cleaning up. I gave her a moment to herself as she sat silently at the table.
“Everything okay?” I asked eventually. “Is Phillip coming home?”
She shook her head and I went to sit down across the table from her. Elodie’s eyes were bloodshot; the tip of her nose was red as fire. I didn’t want to press her, but she was obviously not okay.
She handed my question back to me. “How are you feeling, Karina?”
“I’m fine. Don’t let the hair fool you. Elodie, you know you can talk to me.”
“You have your own problems.” She tried to smile.
“We’ve done enough talking about that. I’m here for you, too.”