She took a deep breath and sighed. “You’re right.”
“And because it might happen again.”
“What?!?! Ted, I don’t understand….”
“Right now, you’re the most important thing in the world to me. But it might be two months into the semester; we might be too busy to visit each other and all of the sudden I’ll just forget. Or maybe you’ll forget.”
“Ted, don’t do this.”
“I have to, meg. This isn’t working.”
“Fine,” she hissed, handing him the bracelet back. “I don’t want it.”
“No, you keep that.”
“I said I don’t want it!”
“I still love you.”
“Bastard,” she repeated, crying once more.
What was supposed to be a celebratory dinner that night was a staid affair. Megan was still shaken with grief. She barely ate and talked even less. Her family tried to show their support, but she remained cold and distant. After trying and failing to comfort and reassure her, they allowed Steve to become the center of attention once more.
Megan was feeling no better that night, but the grief had changed. She no longer felt anger and indignation towards Ted, but instead a slow, biting emptiness. It was as if some cruel force had sucked her soul out through a straw. She supposed she still loved Ted (otherwise, why would it hurt so much?), but what bothered her most was the adjustment. She had come home from college expecting things to pick up where they left off. Instead, she found herself starting all over.
Sabrina tried to appease her over the phone.
“I always knew he was a prick.”
“He was a great guy.”
“In high school, maybe.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“Come on out with us. You need to do something to get him off your mind. Sitting around and moping is no good for you.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think so. I’m tired. I think I’m just gonna sleep.”
“OK, Meg. Feel better, hun.”
Megan again found solace in the comfort of her bed and was able to drift off into a painless sleep. In her dreams, she and Ted were still together. In her dreams, Carrie was happily adjusted and her mom and Jess got along. In her dreams, nothing had changed.
When Meg awoke the next morning, it was a quarter to ten. She felt better: relaxed, refreshed and ready to take on the world once more. Unfortunately, her bed was a different story entirely. Her panties were saturated and cleaved to her skin uncomfortably. Pushing her drenched sheets off was like fighting a tidal wave. Mouth agape, Megan screamed in surprise.
“Megan?” Nancy called. She had the morning off. “Is everything all right?”
A”Yes, mom,” she answered convincingly. She climbed out of bed and marched disgustedly to the shower.
B”No,” she said in a tiny voice, weeping as her mother approached her room.

“No,” she said in a tiny voice, weeping as her mother approached her room. She felt horrible, both about what happened and the way she was reacting. Big girls shouldn’t cry. Then again, big girls shouldn’t wet their beds either. Still, it was nothing more than an accident. But it had happened the night before. Conflicted, she crossed her arms and attempted to pull herself together.
Megan barely had time to react as Nancy approached. She felt ashamed, but hoped talking with her mother could help.
“Honey, are you…” Nancy began, ducking her head into the room. Her lips formed a perfect O of surprise. “What happened here?”
“I wet my bed, Mom.”
“Oh. I see,” she replied, quite flustered. When she heard Megan’s scream, she thought the worst: her daughter had hurt herself somehow and was in pain. She then rationalized and came up with the explanation that she had just awoken from a ad dream or a bee had gotten into the room. In none of her permutations was a bedwetting episode even considered. “Well…”
“It happened the night before too,” Megan continued. “Only it was just a little then and I didn’t think anything was wrong. But now…” She began to get herself all worked up again.
“Shhh…. calm down,” Nancy urged. She had been used to treating Megan as an adult (or a near-adult) and adjusted herself to the idea that she might soon “lose” her just as she lost Jessica (albeit hopefully to a better end). That she would have to take a more nurturing role never crossed her mind. However, instincts kicked in and she soon regained her old touch. “There’s no need to get worked up. It’s probably just a phase. Remember when you were Steve’s age….”
“This isn’t just a phase!” Megan snapped. “I’m nineteen fucking….” She saw the stern look on her mother’s face, took a deep breath, and proceeded more calmly. “This isn’t a phase. Ugh…. I just want to know what’s wrong with me.”
“Probably nothing. Maybe you are just under a lot of stress. However, I think it would be a good idea if you went to the doctor. Don’t you?”
Megan nodded and finally climbed out of bed. Together, they stripped off the sheets and assessed the damage to the mattress. Fortunately for Megan, her egg crate pad had absorbed the brunt of the damage. It would have to be replaced, but it was better that then the mattress.
“Thanks, Mom,” she said as they lugged the bedding down to the laundry room.
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone about this.”