MISERY LOVES COMPANY

  A Romance Short Story

  S.E. ROSE

  Contents

  Copyright

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  About the Author

  Also by S.E. Rose

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2022 S. E. Rose

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  www.seroseauthor.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This story contains depictions of adult relationships and derogatory language. If such things offend you, then this story is not for you. This story is intended for mature readers.

  This story discusses mental health topics and suicide. The story has some dark humor which she has often used as a coping mechanism. Please read the author’s note for more information. While the premise is light-hearted, there are difficult things discussed.

  This story was released originally as part of the One More Kiss: A Charity Anthology for Suicide Awareness.

  To my husband, who was the first person after my own tragedy that truly understood how it felt. You always saw me and not what I’d been through, and for that, I will always be eternally grateful.

  Author’s Note

  Dear Reader,

  This is the most personal that I’ve gotten in a story. While all my stories have little whispers of me or my life, I’ve never shared anything truly personal. I met my husband on a blind date as a teenager after we both had experienced tragedies. It was the first time for me that someone had truly understood how it felt to have no one understand what they had gone through. For me, my tragedy was finding my father after his suicide. It’s something I’ll never get over, but with time, I’ve learned to live with it. The grief of that, coupled with my own battles with depression and anxiety, can be so hard to deal with at times, yet my husband has been by my side through every low and every high.

  As I write this, I’m at my childhood home. The memories seem to permeate the air here, and yet, it’s like remembering a movie or someone else’s life. That fateful day was thirty years ago this summer, and it seems like yesterday and forever ago all at the same time. I don’t have any words of wisdom or false hopes for those that have shared my same unfortunate experience, but I will say this, you aren’t alone. There are so many of us out there, and nowadays through social media and the internet, it’s so much easier to find hope, friends, and help. I wish those things were available for that little girl I see in the photos on the wall of this room that I’m currently sitting in, but alas, they didn’t exist when she needed them most. Instead, she was one of the lucky ones who stumbled upon someone who didn’t understand her specific tragedy but understood the loneliness that consumes you when no adults or peers can relate to what’s happened to you. And that is where this story concept came from. While the story isn’t my love story, the general premise and some of the conversations are directly inspired by what brought my husband and me together over twenty-six years ago. Some of the topics I touch upon, whilst brief, are tough topics, so I also tried to add humor and light because those were and still are my very own coping mechanisms.

  If you are like me and have suffered with depression, please know there are so many resources that are only a click away. Hell, just know that I’m only a click away.

  From a woman who’s been there and sees you,

  S.E. (Sarah) Rose

  Chapter 1

  Scarlett

  Whoever said time heals all wounds is full of shit.

  It’s been 3,650 days, 87,600 hours, and 5,265,000 minutes since the moment that changed my life, but who’s counting. I look out the airplane window. I can see land in the distance, which means this exhausting flight is nearly over.

  I lean back in my seat and close my eyes, remembering the last time I visited here nearly fifteen years ago.

  “Dad! Did you see the toilet?” my younger sister, Rylin, screams as she bounces in front of what looks like a stone slab with a hole in it.

  “Ew! Ry, that’s gross,” I reply.

  Dad laughs and throws an arm around my shoulders. “Makes your bathroom look pretty palatial, huh?”

  “Dad,” I whine as I shrug out of his hold and walk past the small alcove where my sister is sitting and pretending to pee.

  “Scar, don’t go too far,” my mom yells as I walk to the far side of the open space that probably once had multiple rooms, or at least that’s what the audio guide says as I half-listen to the headphones against my ears.

  I continue down the steps and back outside, assessing the ruins. I pull my arms inside my poncho as drops of rain begin to fall. Great, now we’ll have to traipse back to town in the pouring rain.

  “Not impressed?” my dad’s voice calls out from behind me.

  I turn to him. “I mean, it’s OK.”

  “Come on, I’ll tell you a story that your grandmother once told me,” he says as he motions me to a restored part of the castle that has a roof over it. “Let me tell you a tale about a princess and a prince of two opposing kingdoms. They kept running into each other in the woods as they escaped from their normal daily lives. They both felt free in the woods. They would leave each other a seashell they had found in an old stone cottage. Each giving it to the other and then receiving it back in return. One beautiful shell that they shared. One day, the prince admitted his feelings for the princess. They decided to leave their kingdoms so they could be together, but as fate would have it, that night the prince was sent away to fight in a war. When the princess arrived at their meeting spot the next day, she thought he had abandoned her. She sat in the woods and cried. A little old woman going for a walk stopped and told her that “if it was meant to be, it would be.” She continued to cry as she walked home, sure she’d never see her prince again. They both went on to live their lives, until one day years later, the prince came back. The princess was angry and ignored him, but day by day, he started leaving her a shell again with little notes. Until one day, when she went for her walk in the woods, she came upon the old stone cottage, and it had been renovated. She was sad that a place she had spent her youth playing was now off-limits to her as a new family must live there. As she went to leave, the door opened, and there stood the prince. He announced that he had fixed the house for her and that if their families wouldn’t let them be together, they could live there together. And somehow, they were able to bring their families together, and by wedding, they ended a century-old rift and merged their lands into one kingdom.”

  “That’s a short story, Dad,” I say as I lean my head on his shoulder. He kisses the top of my head.

  “I’ll tell you the longer version another time, kiddo. But isn’t it cool to think places like that actually exist?” he asks as he motions around us.

  “That’s not the story of this castle,” I point out as I motion to my audio guide.

  He laughs. “No, it’s not, but it’s a great story, nonetheless. Live in the moment, Scarlett. We have so few days like this in life, where we are all together and everything is fine. So, store this one in your memory bank, just like I will store it in mine. Who cares if it’s raining or if we get wet? We’re together, and that’s what matters.”

  “I guess,” I mutter, trying to appease him.

  “We should probably head back to town,” Mom’s voice interrupts us.

  We stand to leave, and I look around once more as Dad leans down. “Remember this moment and keep it with you always.”

  “I remember,” I whisper toward the window.

  The captain comes over the loudspeaker to announce our arrival in Edinburgh. The annoying man sitting behind me thumps my seat again. I swear that if we weren’t landing in the next thirty minutes, I might literally murder this person. I can tell he’s a tall man, and I’m sure this cattle car is no fun for him, but all I’ve felt are his knees against my back for a solid ten hours.

  Willing myself not to commit a crime on an international flight, I ready my things and prepare to go through customs.

  I plan on spending the day here and then going out to Stonehaven tomorrow. From there, it’s down the coast to London for a few days before heading back home. It’s a short trip, but tomorrow, I’ll fulfill the reason for coming here.

  By the time I have my things gathered and my forms filled out, we’re pulling up to our gate. It takes me two hours to go through customs, get my luggage, and secure a ride to a small bed-and-breakfast near the city center. I drop my things off and spend my day frolicking around this enchanting city. I visit the castle and the palace. I eat lunch at a pub where I order fish and chips. I go on a ghost tour, and at sunset, I climb a nearby hill with great views of the city. And then I head back to a restaurant near my bed-and-breakfast and grab dinner before calling it a night.

  Lying in bed, I pat the small wooden box I’ve brought with me. Tomorrow is the big day.

  Chapter 2

  Rexton

  I roll over in the very small twin-sized bed. I’ve had a horrible night of sleep. I traveled all night, arrived in Edinburgh, had lunch at a pub after walking around a bit, and then took a train to Stonehaven. I found a little place by the water and ate dinner before turning in for the night at a little bed-and-breakfast.

  Ginger says I’m crazy to come here, but I finally have both the money and time. It’s long overdue. I need to get this over with today, but right now, I just want to crawl back into bed and sleep. I long for my Alaska king bed in my loft apartment.

  I’ve worked hard to build a better life for my sister and me. We nearly ended up on the streets after Dad died. But somehow, through the kindness of my neighbors, we were able to crash on sofas for a year while I got certified as a car mechanic. My teacher’s friend hired me on a trial basis, and I was able to afford a shitty one-bedroom apartment after three months of working. It wasn’t much, but it was a roof over our heads, and it kept the social workers from taking Ginger away.

  It took me five years to save some money. And another three years to figure out how I’d open my own business. And two years later, I’m finally making a killing. Ginger can afford to go to any college, and she chose a good one. I offered to wait until she could come with me, but she opted to spend her summer studying in Ecuador. So, here I am, alone.

  I look over at the two containers next to me. Well, almost alone.

  I roll out of bed and grab a shower. I might as well start my day. Nothing has gone as planned. I had hoped to upgrade to business class but there weren’t any seats left. Then I got stuck in this small godforsaken room for the night with the world’s smallest bed. And now, I’m jet-lagged and not even wanting to enjoy myself on my first sort of vacation.

  Ginger had kept telling me to spend more time over here. I know she feels guilty that I gave up my youth to take care of her, but I’d do it all again if I had to because she’s worth it.

  I head out to find a small breakfast bar set up in the entry area of the bed-and-breakfast. I grab some toast and a coffee and head out toward my destination after speaking with the owner to get directions.

  She says it’s about three miles. I look up at the sky. It’s a windy day. There are only a few puffy clouds. The weather says a thirty percent chance of rain, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the odds are slightly greater than that.

  I pass a few other people as I walk along the trail. I have to admit, the views are pretty damn amazing. Cliffy coastlines emerge from the North Sea as a cold wind whips across the fields of grasses. There’s a single fishing boat in the distance.

  I come across a bench and take a seat, setting down the small backpack that carries the reason why I am here. I lean back and contemplate all the moments that brought me to this one. I wasn’t ready to move on before now, and I’d be a lying asshole if I said I wasn’t a little hesitant to rip this Band-Aid off and leave this all in the past.

  My childhood wasn’t horrible, at least not the first ten years. We weren’t rich, but we also weren’t poor. We lived in a small house in an older neighborhood. There were plenty of kids riding bikes and playing basketball at the local park. It wasn’t much, but it was good. Then one day my mom passed out while making dinner. Her cancer diagnosis was sudden, and her rapid decline was even more startling. Three months later, she was gone. Funny how life can change in a matter of seconds.

  I look down the coast toward my destination in the distance.

  “Come on, fucker, get your ass up and get this over with,” I mutter to myself as I stand up and sling the pack over my shoulder.

  I pass a couple walking along the trail with their two kids in tow. We exchange pleasantries. I wonder what they are doing today. Probably something fun. I crack my neck as I come to stop in front of steps that go down and then back up to what looks like an island. It’s a small raised part of the land that is only connected at the base. The tide is low, and it appears you can walk right down to the beach. Perfect. I can do this right there.

  I decide to tour the castle first. I’ll probably just want to go back and have a quiet meal and drink after I do what I came here for. So, I climb up to the castle and begin my tour. Memories of my parents watching Hamlet come flooding back to me. I don’t know why that’s the very last happy family memory I have, but it is. It’s the reason I’m standing here. The mind is a strange place, keeping one memory while letting ten recede without warning. Until it’s filled with just a handful of memories, little glimpses into your past, some pointless and mundane and others traumatic or pivotal.

  I notice a woman who looks slightly familiar as I walk around the ruins. She glances my way twice and then quickly look in the other direction. She’s beautiful, long reddish-brown hair floats over her shoulders in flowing loose curls. It blows around on occasion in the wind. I see her reach for a hair tie, and she pulls it up on top of her head. That makes me take further notice. Her neck is long and slim. I see a dainty gold necklace wrapped around its base. She mindlessly rubs whatever pendant hangs from it between her thumb and forefinger.

  I can’t help wondering who she is, why does she look familiar, and what is her story? She, too, is sporting a small backpack. She glances my way again, and we lock eyes for a brief moment before she looks away once more, heading back toward the steps leading out of the castle.

  “Get yourself together,” I mutter under my breath. I’m using this beauty as a distraction from why I’m here. I clench my backpack and head in the same direction. I think the stairs down to the water were on the way in. I double back and find them. I see a few people milling around. There looks to be a cave at the base of the island…er…peninsula? I don’t actually know what the land formation is, but it doesn’t matter.

  I sit down on the wet sand and wait, hoping to find a solitary moment where I can do this. I hear people leaving and glance up at the stairs. Looking around, I don’t see anyone, although the cave is dark, so it’s hard to tell. Now or never, I think as I pull out the wooden box containing the reason I came here.

  “Well, Mom and Dad,” I start as I look at the box, “watching the movie that was filmed here was the last happy memory I have of you. Maybe there were others that I don’t remember, but I know you loved this place. Mom, you even said you wanted to go see it. Dad, you promised to take her. Well, that didn’t work out, did it? A lot of things didn’t work out. Promises were broken, but I’m going to see that one through. We’re here now. Ginger couldn’t come here, but she sends her love. She’s doing so great. You’d be so fucking proud of her. And…I’m alright. I’ll be fine. Things are…better than before. I wish you both were here. You know, I never thought about how good we had it. It wasn’t a special childhood, but it was a childhood. I wish Ginger had gotten the same. I know you didn’t plan it to fall apart like it did. Dad, I wish you had been stronger. I wish Mom hadn’t died, too. Shit, there’s so many things I wish had worked out differently.” I look out at the sea. It’s time.

  I stand and open the box, taking out the bag of ashes. I left a small container of them for Ginger to do what she wanted with, and the rest are about to be scattered.

  “Time to fulfill that promise,” I state as I open the bag. The wind picks up suddenly and the ashes go flying like a tornado. “Oh, shit,” I yelp, but it’s too late. They fly toward the cave and then I suddenly realize that the woman, the beauty from the castle is standing there with a small vase. The ashes fly at her and she bats her hands as ashes from her vase also go flying. She yelps. I watch her ashes and mine mix in the wind before a gust pushes them out to sea.

  I run over to her. “Are you OK?” I call out as I approach her. Damn, she is covered in ashes. she even has ashes in her hair.

 

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