“Hi,” he returned.
Summoning boldness, my hands encircled his wrists. I didn’t see him walk up with a date, so I hoped the move didn’t border on inappropriate. I just felt like I needed to anchor myself to him, somehow. He didn’t pull away from my touch.
This was real. This was happening.
I could do this.
“Can I tell you a secret?” I gazed up into those uniquely-colored eyes.
“Yeah,” he breathed out. It felt like he’d been holding his breath for a long, long time.
I met his gaze steadily, and swallowed the lump in my throat.
“I came here—for you.”
Suddenly his arms came around me, crushing me into a hug. Tears stung my eyes. I’d forgotten how safe I felt with his arms around me. All at once, I was a ten-year-old girl again, wrapped in the arms of her best friend in the world. He grabbed my hand in his, like not a moment had passed.
Was I forgiven—just like that? I still needed to talk to him—to explain everything. I still had so much atoning to do.
A few raindrops hit my head, and I looked to the sky.
“C’mon,” he encouraged, pulling me inside.
36
CADE
The theme for this reunion was sleepover.
Sleepover? Seriously?I’d thought when I saw the invite and checked the website for information. I knew they were trying to stick with high-school-esque themes for these things, but most of us were nearly 30, and a pajama party seemed an odd choice.
Then again, maybe it would be fun? I was back in Vermont, and I knew Bryan and Nic would be going, so really, there was no reason for menotto attend. And yeah, part of me wondered if I’d run into Brooke. Three years had passed since we’d last spoken, but I was always still wondering about Brooke. She truly was my one that got away, and as much as I’d tried to move on, I’d always found myself unfairly comparing my girlfriends to Brooke. No one had measured up. Since my last breakup, I’d resolved to take a break from dating for a while.
The reunion was taking place at this huge cabin on the lake, some massive rental property from one of those Air B&B-type sites. The inside had an enormous open living space with lofted ceilings up to a vaulted roof. The whole thing was a marvel ofarchitecture, heavy on the wood-cabin lakehouse vibes, but in an upscale way.
Having just renovated my own place in my old neighborhood, I was pretty interested in home design, so I found myself taking in the details of the place. Gorgeous wood beams ran across the peaked ceiling at evenly-spaced intervals. There was an impressive farmhouse-style kitchen, and a dining table that could seat a dozen or more. The sightlines were open, and we could see several couples standing and talking around an island in the kitchen, cups in hand.
Old-school board games and card games were scattered throughout the spacious living space, forming stations of a sort, and people in various types of sleepwear and athletic wear were gathered around them. Floor pillows and folding chairs surrounded each game. And was that Twister in the corner? Wow, they’d really leaned into this theme.
From the living room you could see a wall of glass, pulled back—one of those accordion glass doors from design shows that opened out fully towards an outdoor living space. Out back was a large patio, a pool, and further afield, a sand volleyball court. There were a couple dozen old classmates and their partners and dates present, but they were spread across many different areas, so the space didn’t feel that crowded.
A voice suddenly boomed all around us, and Brooke startled at my side. “Karaoke and foosball downstairs in the basement,” the voice declared over a state-of-the-art sound system. “The Pictionary competition will begin at 9 pm.”
I caught Brooke’s awed reaction as she took it all in, then tracked as her gaze dropped to our still-linked hands. I rubbed my thumb across her left hand. No ring.
Nic had told me they’d met up and that Brooke was single. But as usual, I was getting ahead of myself.
Suddenly self-conscious, Brooke dropped her hand from my grip.
“I—” she began. “I have a lot to tell you.” She started to reach inside the bag strapped across her.
“Later,” I told her, stilling her hands. I could see her open her mouth and start to object. “Please. We can go have coffee after the reunion. For now, let’s just—hang out. Okay? Spend a little time together? I know we need to talk. And we will. I just... I want to enjoy this together. Ten years. Feels like a pretty big milestone. For all of us.”
She nodded, but I could tell it was killing her a bit to leave so many things unsaid.
I caught her eye. “Volleyball?”
Suddenly she grinned, nodding.
