Living With Regret Read Online Free PDF Page A

worries.
    “My husband died a few years back. Farming accident,” she continues, checking the fluids in my IV.
    “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
    “It’s the worst thing I’ve ever been through. Didn’t think I’d make it, but I did.” She stops, pulling my covers up. “He’s always here,” she says, placing her hand over her heart.
    “But I did it. I’m the reason he’s not here,” I choke, my chest noticeably rising and falling.
    Her hand touches my forearm—cool and comforting. “Forgiving yourself is going to be your biggest hurdle in letting go. Just remember no amount of guilt or punishment will bring him back.”
    My cries shake my body and soul, quickly turning to sobs. I knew the downpour would come eventually, but hearing another person confirm that Cory’s not coming back undoes me.
    “Let it out, honey. It’s the only way you’re ever going to feel better. I think it was at least a month before I let myself have a good cry, and it was the most miserable month of my life,” she says, patting my arm.
    Even if I wanted to respond, I couldn’t. My heart’s been shredded and spread across the floor. I’m just waiting for someone to come and walk on it. I deserve to hear the hate I feel within myself.

June 9, 2013
    IT’S BEEN SIX DAYS since I woke up. Six days since this broken, crappy new life started … a sad, empty version of what I used to have.
    It brings me back to when I was younger, to the first time my life was lonely. My dad always worked hard, trying case after case as the county attorney. He was often gone before I woke up in the morning and came home late in the evening, many times after I’d already gone to bed. Since I’ve been here, I realize he hasn’t changed one bit. He’s only visited me twice, and our time together is full of excuses about why he hasn’t visited more. I know I’m never going to be able to change him, so I keep my mouth shut and make a mental note of what not to do when I have kids—not that it’s likely to happen now.
    Mom, on the other hand, was always busy keeping up appearances, a member of the church board and the PTA. Everyone thought we were a perfect family, but they could only see what was on the outside. They didn’t see the hollow loneliness within me. The girl who craved attention like an addict craves their next fix. All I ever wanted was a little bit of their time. I wanted them to get to know who I was, not who they wanted me to be.
    We lived on a ranch, a property my dad inherited from my great grandfather. We had a few horses, and when I was six, my parents let me get a puppy, which I named Toby. We were inseparable, and I was grateful for him because he filled a small part of the void my loneliness had created. I remember one day in particular … the day I met Sam. I was only eight.
    Mom has some of the church ladies over for afternoon coffee. She made me put on this hideous floral dress with a pink bow across the front this morning just for the occasion. I hate it, and after she finishes parading me around like a pony at the fair, Toby and I slip outside to hide away.
    It’s a sunny day so we decide to take a walk, ending up in the grassy field next to our property. There isn’t much to it—just a vast open area with extra tall grass bordered by a line of trees and a tiny creek. The best part is it’s hidden from the road and difficult to see from my house. It’s a perfect hiding place, just Toby and me out in the middle of nowhere.
    Deciding to defy my mom’s plea stay clean, I lay back in the grass, letting the sun beat down on my skin. I close my eyes and get lost in the serenity of summer, not opening them until I hear footsteps coming close. I never expected anyone to come out here.
    My heart races, especially after Toby starts barking because he wouldn’t do it if it were just Mom or Dad. They’ve told me time and time again not to come out here where they can’t see me, and of course, something really bad is going