“I’m not going to pass out.”
“You’re pale and dramatic. I’m not taking chances,” she insisted.
Taylor checked her phone again, then stood and walked to her bag.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
She pulled out a cream envelope and a folded piece of paper decorated with blue marker waves. My breath caught.
“He asked me to give these to you,” she said. “But only when you had emotional backup.”
Billie blinked. “Damn. That’s annoyingly thoughtful.”
The envelope had my name written across the front in Hunter’s handwriting.
Catherine.
My fingers shook when I took it.
“And this is from Isla,” Taylor said softly, handing me the folded paper.
I pressed my lips together because if I opened that card in front of everyone, I was going to lose it. “I need a minute.”
Billie pointed toward the guest house. “Go. We’ll be out here pretending not to stare through the windows.”
I walked into the guest house and shut the door behind me. I sat on the edge of the couch, Hunter’s letter in one hand and Isla’s card in the other. I opened the letter first.
Catherine,
I’m done trying to protect you by leaving you alone.
The first line stole the breath from my lungs. I kept reading.
I told myself space was respectful, but I think I also used it because I was scared every choice in front of us would cost you something. I was wrong to decide silence was protection.
You deserve the truth. I’m in love with you. I want to be with you no matter how complicated this gets, and because I love you, I will not ask you to give up anything you earned. Not your internship, career, your parents’ respect or yourself.
I’m going to stand beside you now, even if that means facing every person I was scared to disappoint. I don’t know the answer yet, but I know it cannot be you disappearing from a room you worked your ass off to stand in.
Sorry isn’t enough, so I’m going to say it better by doing better. If you still need space, I’ll respect it. But if any part of you misses us too, I need you to know I’m not trying to pull you away from your life. I’m trying to make room for me inside it.
Hunter
By the time I finished, my eyes were full of tears. They were the kind that came when something inside you finally unclenched. He loved me. Hunter loved me. And he was notasking me to choose between him and myself. He was stepping into the mess instead of leaving me alone inside it. Into my father’s anger. Into the team’s rules. Into every hard thing we had avoided because wanting each other had been easier in the dark. I opened Isla’s card next. Blue waves covered the bottom of the page. A little figure stood near the ocean with hair that looked more like an octopus than Moana, and across the top, in careful handwriting, she had written:
Dear Catherine,
I miss you. Dad is trying to be less weird. I drew the ocean because you like Moana.
From Isla
A laugh broke out of me, wet and shaky. Then I cried. I missed her too. So damn much. The guest house door opened softly. Billie stepped inside, took one look at my face, and closed the door behind her.
“Oh, babe.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re crying over Disney ocean art.”
