Chapter 15: Torn

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Song: "Torn" performed by One Direction

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As much as I wanted to run home to the comfort of my family for the weekend, I just couldn't, not after gushing about Harry so much last weekend. Undoubtedly they would comfort me, but I would look like a fool. I decided to wait until the hurt wasn't so fresh so I could casually tell them, "It didn't work out," rather than walking in the door and bursting into tears.

So that left me with the weekend to myself because for the same reasons, I didn't contact my friends either. I tried reading, which was my go-to soother, but I couldn't even focus on my favorite books. I watched sappy romance movies to just purge all the stupid romantic feelings through ugly sobs and tears. I even tried to get some exercise, which I never, ever do. I wasn't planning anything too intense as I put on my seldom-worn athletic shoes. But then I took a brisk walk that that led me over two miles from my apartment. After an almost-five-mile round-trip, I came back to my loft, soaked in a tub of bubbles and slept the rest of Sunday away.

Monday morning came, and I dreaded having to go to the library where I would be reminded of Harry at every turn. Goodness, I was acting like we had been together for years. I fiercely told myself to get it together, but it didn't work. I took an extra long time with my book return duties and didn't report back to the front desk til almost noon. Third floor had been the hardest; I kept imagining Harry sitting there; would he still be there if I hadn't ever approached him? Probably not; I'm sure he would have worked through it on his own and moved on. And I never would have met him.

"Lots of books today?" Gabby said flatly.

"Yeah, tons," I replied in the same flat voice.

I waited for her to give me a task to do, not being able to self-direct at all at the moment. I found out that Beth had called in sick but that still didn't inspire me to do any of the extra work to make up for her absence.

"You wanna talk about it?" Gabby asked, not even looking up from what she was doing.

We were both seated behind the long, wraparound checkout counter; it was at the same time modern and rustic, with variegated wood sections, topped with stainless steel accents. It was homey enough that I enjoyed my little bit of desk space there.

I looked around, thinking maybe Gabby was talking to someone else. This wasn't the Gabby I knew. Had everyone switched personalities when I wasn't looking?! "Me?" I asked meekly.

She looked up then and said, "Yes, you. If something is bothering you, you can talk about if you'd like."

I blinked a few times, still in shock. I finally found my voice, saying, "Well, Harry and I were getting along great, like really great, and then he just stopped calling. He came over Friday and he was really detached and he didn't even hug me. I just don't understand."

Her thoughtful "Hmmm" wasn't much of a response.

I hoped it wasn't taboo to ask about this, but I was desperate for some insight into what Harry was going through. "How long did it take to mourn your husband? I mean, I know you can never quite get over it, but how long was it before you felt like you could live a normal life again?"

"Well, first of all, you should know that David and I were...estranged  when he died. We had separated and were heading for a divorce, but it was still a shock all the same," she told me. "But after I went through the initial shock and helped the boys through their grief a little, that's when it really sunk in that he was gone forever. So I started to mourn what we used to have, before the separation. We never really reconciled, although we wanted our parting to be peaceful. We didn't make the time to talk things out and then it was too late."

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