My Anorexic Heart

Chapter 29 ~ Edward

After showering, lotioning everything that can be lotioned, brushing my teeth, and slipping on my PJs there's nothing left to do but crawl into bed and pretend to sleep. 

When my phone buzzes on the nightstand, a jolt of relief shoots through me until I realize it's the non-Sebastian phone. I hesitate, my arm half-outstretched to pick it up. The only people with the number are the remanents of my friends and my parents. Do I really want to lie more to my friends? 

Guilt drops heavy as a log into my stomach juices. I'm going to get married without them there. I used to do everything with Janie, Sky, Terry, Edward, and... 

One.

Her face pops up in my vision. Not the face as I want to remember it, but the one covered in blood. Her eyes fluttering open and locking on me as her brother drags my body out of the car window. She's reaching for me when the flames consume the vehicle, consume my friend. 

The trembles begin in my hands. I have to distract myself quick, or I'm going to have an attack. Rather than pop a pill, which is weird because that's my default programming, I snatch up the phone and flip it open. 

Edward: Are you awake?

Me: Yes.

Edward: I'm packing and I found some old pictures. 

Me: How old?

Edward: Kindergarten. 

Cringe. Reluctant smile. 

Me: I don't think this phone get's picture texts. Bring them with you?

Edward: What happened to your phone?

Me: Long story. Something about a car driving over it.

Edward: You drove over your phone?

Me: I contracted out the work. It needed to be done. Like I said, long story. 

Edward: I can call you.

Me (typing as fast as the cheap new phone will go): Boyfriend issues. 

Edward: You could have just changed your number. 

Me: Felt better this way. 

Edward: Sky says you filed a restraining order.

Me: His gossip is correct.

Edward: He just cares about you. He's like your brother. He thinks of you that way, and I know you think of him that way. 

Me: 954-224-6565 <~ Secret number, this phone takes forever to text.

My other phone buzzes, and I snatch it up. 

954-366-7272: Should I even bother to ask why you have a secret phone? 

I quickly save his number.

Me: I'll tell you when you get here. My life is a series of long stories lately.... I love Sky more than probably anyone else on this planet, but that doesn't mean he didn't get that information via gossip. I suspect Dad is the culprit. 

Edward: It's always the dads.

His text is a joke but it hits me like a bullet to the heart. His dad was one of those gossips a little over a year ago. "The Breakfast Club" we called them because they go to breakfast before work and share anything and everything they've ever heard. Diarrhea of the mouth, Mom calls it. 

Edward: Don't be sad, Nina. I know you are, so don't deny it. Confession?

Me: You'll tell me anyway so why ask permission?

Edward: The house didn't have to be tented this week. I just really need to see you.

Pause. Heart stops. Breathing stops. 

Edward: Breathe, please. I need you alive. 

Me: Breathing just fine, thank you. 

Edward: Sure... I miss you, Nina. I feel like I've lost you too. 

Gulp. More guilt. 

Me: You can't. I love you too, and you know me. Once I start down that path, I seem incapable of turning away. 

Edward responds with two pictures of us in kindergarten fingerpainting. In the second one, he's sporting a purple handprint on each of his cheeks. 

Edward: See you Friday.

Me: See you. 

Setting the phone to charge, I suddenly realize what Sebastian was saying. This thinking business works. My iron clad marriage resolution is suddenly cloudy with past promises. One in particular, reaches up and wraps its claw around my throat — the promise to go away to Oxford with Edward. 

We'd agreed as pre-teens this was the plan — we'd even received our acceptance letters. Then the accident happened. I decided to stay — my parents decided for me when my mental health spiraled out of control. Edward traded his Oxford acceptance for Harvard. I chose to stay and drown in my own misery, he opted to run away. And now here we are facing what neither of us could stand up to a year ago — the only other survivor. We lived. They died. No one knows what that's like but him and me. No one saw the bodies, heard the screams, watched helplessly. 

Sometimes I try to tell myself I saved Edward. I kept him from throwing himself into the flames. But mostly I feel like I robbed him. He should have saved his sister. It should be Emma here waiting for him and not me. 

The spark sends a light jolt through my heart reminding me of its presence. Of Sebastian. And, in Sebastian's voice, it reminds me that my parents would have been crushed if they lost me. I'm alive not for me, but for them. Maybe even for Edward though he could do much better. 

I tap the bubble to create a new message, select Sebastian, and let my thumbs hover over the screen as I debate what to say. My mind wanders over the day. Everything we got through together. The feeling of completeness when I'm with him. 

If Sky knows about Sebastian, he hasn't told Edward yet. The closest people in my life are going to come home and find a girl they won't recognize. Do I want to add to that a married girl they don't recognize? 

But they're leaving again in a week. Sky leaves in a few months for college. Then it's just me again. Me and who? 

Me: See you in the morning? 

Sebastian: Bright and early with breakfast.

Me: Can't wait. Love you. 

Sebastian: Love you too. Forever. 

Smiling, I sink down into my pillows and stare up at the dark ceiling. I'm doing this. It's for the best. For my best. I'll figure out the rest later. 

In the morning, Sebastian arrives at just the right time. Too hyped up on adrenaline, which has the added benefit of burning a ton of calories and giving me no appetite, to be tired. 

He kisses me and then pulls out of the drive. 

"Turn right," I say when we get to the light. 

"Your school is left." He hands me a smoothie from the local juice bar. 

"I'm not going to school today." Sip. "I'm getting married to you." 

He pauses too long at the light, which switched to green less than a second ago, and gets a horn. 

"Right," I command. "I've got a plan. Trust me." 

He does.

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Thank you for reading and sticking with Nina. I know some of you might be appalled by her choice, but I promise this is going someplace good. Nina just likes to take the rockiest ride to any destination. 

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