Page 16 of 50 Ways to Win Back Your Lover

“What about the girl you once loved?” I say, trying to ignore the twinge in my gut at the thought of Delilah. “You had five years with Sadie. Five years. How can you pretend this news isn’t game changing? You have to look for her, find out if there’s still a chance.”

He gnashes his teeth so hard I hear them scrape. “Sadie left Windfall. Within a year of my disappearance, she was gone. I have no clue where she is, and if you haven’t noticed, I’m a drink slinger, not a defense attorney. A different name doesn’t change those facts or that she’s probably with someone else. Every time I sleep with a woman, I feel alive for a minute, then I feel sick. None of them are her, so I try again and again, but none of them are her. So if you think I’ll ever go back to Sadie, to wherever the hell she moved, and let her see what I’ve become, just to spiral harder afterward, you’re more screwed up than I am.”

He puts his car in drive and peels off. Well, not quite peels. His rusted banana-mobile coughs and farts its way to the road, leaving me sucking on Desmond’s supervillain-noxious fumes.

Lennon appears beside me and watches Des’s car disappear. “I shouldn’t have made the man-bun joke.”

“No, but he would’ve wound up furious anyway.”

We both sigh.

“At least your life’s looking up,” he says, nudging my arm. “You’re not responsible for our murders, and you’re finally free to contact Delilah.”

“Delilah’s engaged,” I say thickly.

“Is she, though?”

I flinch. Lennon knows I don’t joke about Delilah. “Do you not remember seeing her on our flight? Her engagement ring?”

“What I remember is hearing that her fiancé isn’t worthy of her. If I were a betting man, I’d guess she gave him the boot.”

It’s possible. Delilah said theirs was a whirlwind romance. The excitement and newness might have snowballed into a proposal before she realized how wrong they were for each other. But what if my disappearance crushed her spirit? What if she’s not strong enough to do what she should? Her men-always-treat-me-like-shit retort from the airplane has contributed to my sleeplessness since our flight.

Frustrated, I drag my hand through my hair. “She might still be with him. She doesn’t list personal information on social media, and his account is private.”

“Sure, but it’s pretty clear she should ditch the guy, and you two were more than a couple, E. You were best friends. Seems to me she needs you in her life now more than ever. Also . . .” He grins at me. “I just called you E.”

“Yes, Lennon.” I mirror his grin, overwhelmed I get to use his real name. “I heard that, Lennon. I also remember hearing you tell me to get over Delilah this morning.”

He swats at the air. “That was when I didn’t want to be decapitated by crazed drug lords. My new vote is for you to return to Windfall. Quit moping around our place and win back your girl.”

A brilliant idea, but Lennon never reads the fine print. “Did you miss the part where Jake said we still can’t tell anyone about the cartel and witness protection? I may have blurted the truth to Delilah, but no one else there knows the story. I’d have to lie to everyone in town.”

Including the friends I left behind, who for sure hate me.

While I was the artsy weirdo in school who often sat alone, absorbed in my drawing, I wasn’t a total outcast. Ricky Sellers and his infamous garage band, the Tweeds, often asked me to video their rehearsals and make flyers for their gigs. The group of us also regularly hung out in his basement, where I had my first taste of weed (a.k.a. the night I was convinced we were surrounded by a SWAT team and my dry tongue was turning to dust).

Seeing Ricky again would be tough, but Avett Lewis was my closest friend a decade ago. The last time we hung out, a week before my disappearance, we stole the school’s woodchuck mascot. He attached catlike whiskers with pipe cleaners. I added cat ears with Mom’s crafting supplies, both of us cracking up the whole time. We tied it to the field’s goalpost for the football team to find in the morning. The note pinned to the mascot’s chest read, Pussies.

Then I vanished on him without a word.

I massage my temples. “Returning there wouldn’t be easy.”

“I didn’t say anything about easy.” Lennon picks a stray thread off of his plaid shirt and tucks it in his jeans pocket. He has a staunch no-litter policy. “I said your former best friend needs you. Isn’t that reason enough to face Windfall’s wrath?”

“She ran away from me at the airport.”

“I think we can agree she was slightly shocked.”

More than slightly, and he’s right. Delilah and I were best friends. Before I disappeared, I was there for her on her worst days, offering her unconditional support, lifting her up with my unending supply of immature jokes. If she kicked preppy Hugo to the curb, she’ll need a dose of my obnoxious humor. If she’s still with him, she’ll need someone to help her see how wrong he is for her, which means “easy” doesn’t factor into this choice. I’m apparently no longer in hiding. I only need a computer, a sketchbook, and my creativity to work. Driving from Houston to Windfall is no hardship when the only place I want to be is wherever Delilah is, which means my old hometown will soon have a population increase of one.

I pound Lennon’s back. “You’re once again my favorite brother.”

“You’ll be mine when you move out and leave me your Bose speakers. But there is the family issue. If we can’t tell anyone yet, they won’t support this choice. There might be stipulations.”

Yeah, no. I’m done with stipulations—being told who I am, where to live, what to do. If the cartel’s no longer a threat, I’m no longer under anyone’s control. “If it comes to that, they can’t know I’m going to Windfall. I’ll have to lie about where I am.”

“Consider me your wingman.”