Seasons of Sorrow Read Online Free PDF Page B

to Brandy for help.
    “Okay, Greg. It’s your turn to help me cook dinner. But first you have to open a bottle of wine,” Brandy said as she took off her suit jacket.
    He sighed but moved to do as she said. Charlotte gave Brandy a grateful look as they all went into the kitchen.
    Charlotte sat at the bar, drinking a glass of crisp white wine, while her friends made dinner. It felt nice to sit and listen to the two of them bicker good-naturedly. It reminded her of their college years when Greg spent as much time at their apartment as they did. The three of them would sit around, drinking wine or beer, and watch movies or play games. Though he was three years older than they, and in grad school back then, Greg still seemed to enjoy their company.
    The memories were good ones and helped to lighten her mood for a little while. She managed to join in on the conversation while they ate dinner. Then they all sat on the couch to watch Brandy’s favorite network that had all the chefs and cooking shows on it. Greg complained almost the entire time. Finally Brandy promised to make the meal that they just watched being prepared for all of them that weekend. That shut him up because, as much as he bitched, the man loved good Mexican food, and the chef had prepared a fantastic spread of Latin American dishes.
    Charlotte had almost laughed. When she realized that she was smiling widely, the moment of lightness died and tears filled her eyes. This time, instead of Brandy holding her while she sobbed, it was Greg.
    Somehow, having his strong shoulder to lean on made the pain a more bearable, as though she could give him the entirety of her pain and he would carry it for her for a little while.

Chapter Four

    W hile each day seemed to pass at a snail’s pace, Charlotte was shocked to wake up one morning and realize that it was the one month anniversary of Adam’s death. The day began with a crying jag. They were coming less and less often, but it was a hard hit to realize that this was the first month of hundreds that she wouldn’t have her little boy.
    The jag had left her with a stuffy nose, puffy eyes, and a sore throat. A hot shower and the steam had helped but she was still feeling out of sorts. She tried to call Derek but only got his voice mail. He had texted her a few times and, about a week after he told her he wanted a divorce, he had come by to pick up the rest of his things.
    It was strange. She wasn’t even hurt about his betrayal. She didn’t understand how she could feel so distant from the man she had been married to for years and the father of her child. Derek had never been demonstrative and affectionate but she always believed that he cared for her. Still, she couldn’t remember the last time he’d told her he loved her. It had to have been at least a year since she’d heard the words from him.
    With the numbness brought on by grief, Charlotte realized that Derek hadn’t loved her in a very long time and she had been too blind to see. She wondered why he even agreed to have a child together, though she wouldn’t trade her time with her son for anything.
    At ten, the doorbell rang. Dressed in a fluffy, soft robe, she went downstairs to find Greg standing on her doorstep in jeans and a sweater under his leather jacket.
    “What’s going on?” she asked hoarsely.
    He came in and removed his coat. “I knew today would be hard on you. Brandy wanted to be here, but she had a meeting she couldn’t miss.”
    Charlotte wasn’t sure what to say. It touched her deeply that her friends were so considerate and supportive. She knew that her eyes were still red and swollen and her voice was raspy from crying, and that Greg understood what she had been doing that morning.
    “Have you talked to Derek?”
    Greg’s eyes changed, the gray of his pupils darkening in anger. “No.”
    Charlotte ducked her head. “I tried to call him this morning to see if he was going to Adam’s grave today. I left a message.”
    Greg’s