“I also wanted to say that if when I talked to you and told you to keep an eye on her but later on to stay away from her, mostly because she was gonna leave and how that would’ve impacted you?—”
She’s just like Riley when she’s all in her head about things: one long winded sentence at a time.
“If those were some of the reasons why you two are not a thing anymore, I guess I want to apologize. You two are adults, and I really should have just kept my mouth shut, but I can’t undo the past, and it is what it is.”
I want to tell her it did cause an impact, but I also have to take accountability for the errors I’ve made. Yes, she did tell me to watch out for her and whatever, but I am an adult. I ultimately made a decision to push her away when I shouldn’t have.
When I should have known I could have just talked to her, and we would have figured it out. If we really wanted to make it work, we could’ve talked to Lilly together. I could have told her my fears. I could have asked her what she wanted.
Lilly may seem uptight, a rule follower and enforcer, but she’s also conscious of the things people need and what they’re going through. She’s the glue of this place, and sometimes, under too much heat, it’s hard for the adhesive to work. No wonder she’s falling apart. I don’t blame her one bit.
“I don’t want you to carry the guilt of what happened between me and Riley, so don’t worry about it. We will figure it out.”
“Thanks for that, but answer something for me… Do you feel attached to her in one way or another? More than a summer fling?”
I nod, unable to say the feeling I’ve been avoiding naming out loud.
“Do you love her? she asks.
It feels wrong to tell anyone but Riley how I feel about her. She deserves to know first. So I don’t speak the words out loud, but I don’t run away from the feeling either. I say the one thing I know her sister would understand. “How can you know Riley and not love her?”
She smiles more than I have ever seen her smile before looking to the left, reminiscing on whatever made these sisters strangers. If she only knew how Riley looks up to her, how she wants nothing more than to make her proud. “You’re right. I don’t think that’s possible. To know Riley is to love her.”
“Then you should tell her, ‘cause I don’t think she knows.”
“My sister knows how I feel about her,” she replies, putting those walls back up.
“I know you’ve sacrificed a lot for her through the years, and that doesn’t go unnoticed, but she needs to know concretely. She needs to hear you say it.”
She considers my words. I expect her to argue back, but instead, she says, “I agree, and I will, but I could also say the same thing about you.”
“Oh, I know. I was stupid enough not to let her know, but I’ll rectify that situation.”
“Good. Then my job here is done.” She brushes her jeans down. “Have a good night, and I mean it. It’s good to have you around here. My parents would be proud of you.”
I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that. She may not know how much her parents meant to me, but she knowssomethingif she was willing to say those words.
I hope I can carry their legacy the way the river carries sticks and stones along the current. I hope she knows I’m here for good, that I will give this place all I have.
I will give Riley all I have.
She leaves, and I finish cleaning up, pattingJuniper on the head, willing her to look at me, but she doesn’t. “I know, girl. I’ll fix it, and hopefully, she’ll be back soon.”
Standing outside Riley’s cabin,the water droplets hitting the roof in sync with the hum of my heart beating on my chest, I reminisce on the night I let go of fear and took a leap. The best leap of my life.
And now, I’m about to take the next—starting with the hard knock on her bright orange door.
Bright like her and everything she brings.
Riley stands behind the door, glossy and dark like the sea blue eyes. She’s been crying. I would ask her who hurt her, but I know I did. And, judging by the conversation she had with Lilly, so did she.
I fight the urge to bring my hand up to cup her face, to beg her to forgive me. I need her to know this is not a cry so I can have her body back, but a plea to share her heart.
“What are you doing here?” Riley asks in a tone like the night she opened up to me and shared the deepest parts of herself. Raw, vulnerable, open.
“Can we talk?” Where her voice sounds like marshmallow over late night fire, mine sounds like the outsoles of my boots—dry and cracked.
“You said everything you had to say, right?” She crosses her arms over her chest, leaning away from me. “Oh wait, you forgot to say that my sister told you to stay away from me, and that you listened to her.”
