Unconditional

I see him exchange a look with his partner, but he gives me a shrug. “Suit yourself.” They get back to loading, and not twenty minutes later, the truck trundles away—with almost everything I’ve ever owned.

What the hell have I done?

I should be panicked, watching everything disappear, but instead, I feel a burst of adrenaline, relief pumping in my veins. It’s gone, all of it. My car is packed with my favorite clothing and necessities, family photos, things I didn’t want to part with. But the rest of it?

It’s not my problem anymore.

I feel a laugh bubble up in my throat. God, I must be crazy, walking away without any of it. I could have sold it off, used the money to start my old life.

But it would have been tainted, a spoiled beginning.

This is it for me, a fresh start, and now I can do it without my old possessions holding me back, weighing me down.

There’s just one more thing to leave.

I slowly slide the engagement ring from my finger. It sparkles at me, full of possibility. I love this ring. I picked it out myself, but more than the design and clarity of the diamond, I always loved what it represented. Somebody had chosen me, I was worth spending their life with. I belonged to someone.

But I do belong to someone, I remind myself. Me.

I leave the ring on the table by the door, and lock the door behind me when I go. The end of one life.

And the beginning of something new.

“Oh my God, Carina, you came!” Squeals of excitement greet me as I step through the door of my friend Suzie’s penthouse apartment in the city. “Look at you, you look amazing!”

“So do you,” I smile, greeting her with a hug. “You’re glowing!”

And she is. Her baby bump is six months along now, and I feel a stab of envy to see her so excited and radiant.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Suzie waves off my compliment with a smug grin. She flips her long blonde hair and gives a dramatic sigh. “I deserve some perks, this thing’s got me running to the bathroom every ten minutes and up all night kicking. You’ll see, when you and Alexander get started on your own,” she adds, pulling me into the living room before I can reply. “Everybody, look who’s here!”

There’s a chorus of greetings. All my old social circle is here, looking glossy and immaculate, perched on Suzie’s matching white sectionals and sipping iced tea. I feel their eyes on me, scrutinizing, and right away I’m reminded what it’s like with this crowd: how everyone is always on their best behavior, and any weakness is always targeted with a smile and a concerned look.

I stand up straighter, still holding the baby gift basket I picked up on my way over. I send silent thanks that I blew out my hair this morning and picked out my most stylish wrap dress and heels.

“Hi y’all!” I wave, painting on a bright smile. “It’s so great to see you.”

“We missed you!” Mindy, who rules the lunch scene with an iron fist, bobs up and air-kisses me on both cheeks. “But look at you, you look fabulous.”

“You’ll have to tell us about this spa,” another friend of mine, Alexis, adds. “You must have lost, like, ten pounds! Bitch,” she adds with a sunny grin. “Kidding!”

I laugh along, wondering what to say. I guess having your entire life crumble to ashes is a great weight-loss tip, but somehow, it doesn’t seem like an accomplishment.

“I feel great,” I reply instead. “Ooh, look at the tiny cakes!”

I deflect conversation back to the decor, and what a great party Mindy throws, and soon they’re all distracted again. I excuse myself to leave my gift on the table, then make my way to the kitchen, letting the door swing shut on the high-pitched laughter and syrupy voices.

I take a breath, already exhausted. After the stress of packing up this morning, I want to head straight back to Beachwood Bay and take a long bath.

And invite Garrett to come join you…

“You look like you need a drink.”

I startle, turning. A woman I don’t recognize is standing back by the pantry, almost like she’s trying to hide. She looks to be in her early twenties, with red hair twisted up into a braid, wearing a beautiful blue sundress.

“Suzie said there’s no alcohol,” I reply, rueful. “If she can’t drink, we can’t.”

“I know.” The other woman sends me a conspiratorial smile. “But I just happened to find this bottle of bourbon sitting here…” She holds up the bottle. “I decided it was divine intervention.”

I laugh, offering her my virgin drink. She pours in a splash, then raises hers in a toast. “Cheers. I’m Alicia, by the way,” she adds.

“Carina. So how do you know Suzie?” I ask, glad for the brief respite from all the questions outside.

“I was roommates with her sister in college,” Alicia explains. “We haven’t really kept up, but I ran into them both last week, and she insisted I come. What about you?”

“We’ve been friends for years,” I reply. Then I pause, realizing how empty those words are. “At least, we were,” I correct myself.

I don’t know who my friends are anymore. I just know I couldn’t have turned to a single woman out there for help when I needed it, not for fear of gossiping or whispers behind my back.

The thought makes me uneasy.

“There you are!” There’s a cry from the door. Mindy marches in and takes us both by the arm, propelling us out of the kitchen again. “You can’t hide away, we’re just starting the games. Sit!” She points to a spot on the sofa. “Now, Alexis, where’s my list?”