Page 157 of Before We Break

“Mhm. I got you a subscription to Silver Fox magazine and a fresh tube of tennis balls for your walker.”

“Rude. I was going to offer you my pickle, but I think I’ll keep it.”

“I don’t even need your pickles.” She reaches into the bag and pulls out a whole jar from the deli. “I’m fully stocked.”

“At this point your blood has to be at least seventy-five percent pickle juice.”

“Worth it,” she mumbles around a bite.

We eat in companionable silence under the shade of the gazebo, with a late summer breeze dancing across my skin. When my belly is full, I set my leftovers into the empty container and lean back on my hands.

Callie mirrors my movement and places her hand over mine. “I’m glad you’re here.” She speaks with so much sincerity. “We went through a lot of shit to get here, but I’d do it all over again, you know? To be here with you. To have Jax and the girls. It was all worth it in the end.”

My eyes sting with unshed tears as I turn to look at her. “I’m proud of you. You’re stronger than me. I’m not sure I could’ve endured all you went through.”

“I got my strength from you.” She links her pinky finger around mine. “You told me to be brave, and I took that to heart. We both had different paths to travel, but that doesn’t mean yours was any easier.”

“I had Penny. You were alone, and that’s my fault. I left you with those monsters.”

“I don’t resent you for any of it. Maybe I did once, but I’ve made my peace with the past. You should, too. You had to make an impossible choice. Please don’t let that guilt eat you up inside.”

“I still have nightmares. About Rodney and Mom.”

“They don’t deserve to have that power over you. Not anymore. They got what they deserved in the end.” She slides across the steps until we’re hip to hip, then she wraps her arms around me. “I told you a long time ago there was nothing to forgive, but maybe that’s not what you needed to hear, so I’ll say it now. I forgive you. Now you have to forgive yourself.”

I bury my face against her shoulder and let the tears fall in earnest as I return the embrace. I didn’t realize how badly I needed to hear those words until this very moment. It’s like a weight has finally been lifted.

When the tears subside, I finally let her go, and she places another envelope in my hands. “Let him earn your forgiveness, too.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Do you still love him?”

“Yes.”

“Then you owe it to yourself to try.”

I slip my finger under the flap and pull out another sketch. This time it’s the two of us dancing in the town square. I can almost hear the fading notes of “Wonderwall” playing in my head. He didn’t kiss me that time, but I wish he had.

“He’s trying. Give him a chance.”

A vintage-style birthday cake in my favorite shade of coral sits in the center of the table with two gold number three candles in the middle as Lexi, Hayden, Quinn, and Auggie sing happy birthday at the top of their lungs.

As the song comes to an end and they draw out the last note, I blow out the candle, wishing for another year of happiness for the people I love most. I can’t wish for something more this time.

Quinn takes it upon herself to cut the cake and hand out the slices. I offered to help, but she insisted that the birthday girl should sit back and relax, and who am I to complain? There’s still a part of me that wants to take over and make sure everyone has what they need, but she’s quieter than she used to be.

Auggie gives me a friendship bracelet he made with Emma and a colorful picture of what I think is supposed to be a dog colored in with rainbow markers. “Do you like it?”

“Are you kidding me? I love it. Best birthday present ever.”

My phone chimes for the hundredth time today, and I pick it up, hoping I'll find the happy birthday text I’ve been waiting for, but it’s just a notification from one of my many apps offering me another freebie.

I tamp down my disappointment and take another bite of the marble cake with chocolate ganache in the middle—my favorite. I’d recognize an Olivia Sullivan creation anywhere. Lexi did good.

Sometime later, she slides another, now-familiar envelope across the coffee table and a zing of anticipation rockets through me. This time, it’s a sketch of Noah and me on the fire escape with my favorite blanket wrapped around us and my head resting on his shoulder. It’s drawn as though a spectator is standing behind us, the moon’s glow casting us in shadow, the window pane framing us. In the top corner, in Noah’s messy handwriting, it says ‘meet me at our spot’.

I glance at Lexi.