Paper Bride ✔️ (Book 4 - DP Series - COMPLETE)

34. Quality Time

Today marks the two week anniversary of my mother's death. It still feels so surreal. I'll have moments when things actually feel normal. I'll head to my workshop and chisel away at a piece of wood as if everything is right with the world, and then suddenly I'll have a brief flash from a moment when my mom commented on how scrunched and weird my face would get when I worked so diligently, and suddenly realization would come crashing down.

It'll catch me like a massive glove snatching a baseball. One minute I'm sailing through life—unstoppable—and the next I'm being pulverized by the truth. That's how it feels in my chest every time I remember. My breath catches, and suddenly I'm biting my lip to keep myself from experiencing those headache-inducing sobs that I've grown accustomed to.

I no longer try to predict my future. I no longer care where my life will be in one or two years. The only thing that I can focus on without sinking into a bout of anxiety is today. Today is all that matters. If I can get through today, then that's the only success I need at the moment.

While I sort of assumed Seth would be keeping his distance through the mourning period, he's barely left my side. I don't know how he's getting away with skipping out on work, but my only guess is that he's using his sick days or his boss is just an incredibly understanding fellow. Either way, I won't lie... I'm not at all complaining about Seth hanging around. Though, his questions are growing tiresome.

"Do you need a drink?"

"Do you need a blanket?"

"Can I get you something to eat?"

"How are you feeling?"

"How can I help?"

While it's annoying, it's impossible to not see how sweet of a gesture it is. Seth is actually acting as if he cares... about me? And, to be honest, I'm starting to believe it's the truth. After discovering who Tracy was and seeing that their relationship did appear to be business only, I've been feeling a bigger sense of peace in our marriage. I don't feel like I'm trying to hold things together with slippery fingers. Instead, I almost feel as if Seth and I are a team. We aren't fighting, we aren't bitter, and we're talking... no matter how small our talk is, I consider it to be improvement.

And yet, things still aren't where they should be. And I know the problem. The problem is me. I've lost all care for anything other than surviving. My marriage has been put on hold in hopes of letting my heart heal without any distractions. Once I pull through this tragedy with my mother, I think I'll be able to put all effort into snagging Seth again. But, right now, I just don't care what happens.

I know it's a horrible way of thinking. I know that by acting this way it might just make everything worse, but I can't bring myself to bother working at it. My broken heart doesn't have enough energy for Seth right now. I've consciously put him on the back-burner, and my only hope is that he'll sit back there long enough for me to come around and realize my stupidity... Only, I've already realized it. I just don't care about it.

I'm staring at a blank piece of wood, trying to come up with something clever to do with it, but my inspiration must have been buried beside my mom. I just have nothing. I feel empty and useless. It's at this moment of lowness that my phone starts to ring. I glance at the number, half hoping it'll be Steve telling me that our client has backed out and I'm free to spend my evening crying my eyes out in the solitude of my bathroom.

Well, it's not Steve... It's Emma.

Gosh, I love the girl, but if she doesn't stop calling me, I might have to block her number. I know she's had plenty of experience with heartache, and she thinks it'd be healthy for me to talk to someone about my feelings, but I don't feel like it. I'm happy to just sit here and feel sorry for myself for just a few more years.