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“You. The fact that you think you’re still looking for someone. I hate to be the one to break it to you, Chloe, but you can look all you want. You’ll end up right back here, pining after the one that got away. That’s the thing, though, he hasn’t. He’s still in love with you, and all you have to do is tell him the truth, and things will work themselves out. You know that, but you’re too scared to face it.
“So here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to play the wildcard. No game plan. No expectations. Because I can guarantee that you two will connect at some point in time before you leave, and when you do, you have to tell him. Whether he wants to hear it or not. Tell him everything. Lola, your parents, leaving. All of it. Most importantly, tell him how you still feel. I guarantee he feels the same. The only rule is you can’t leave anything out because if you do, it changes the story.
“Change the story and change the outcome. What was once perfect, then imperfect, becomes perfect again. I promise, you just have to listen to me this time.”
“Your plan sucks,” I mumble under my breath.
“It does, because it’s not a plan at all.”
“I need to know—”
“You don’t need to know anything, Chloe. Just let it happen. You said it yourself, as soon as Adam sees Lola, it’s over. Well, that’s in less than eighteen hours. You can’t do anything until then. Except drink away your sorrows and fears. So,” she continues, pouring me another glass of wine, emptying the bottle, “drink up my friend. Tomorrow is a new day, full of possibilities. You never know what might happen.”
“You know I hate the unexpected, Addy.”
“I know, but you’re just going to have to roll with the punches this time. Love can’t be scripted. It’s always the unknown variable. Things might turn out great, they might turn out shitty. You can’t control what happens or how he reacts. All you can do is hope for the best and prepare for the worst.”
Nodding, I down my entire glass of wine and head inside to grab another bottle from the cellar. If I can’t control what happens tomorrow, I’m going to at least control what happens tonight. Tonight, I drink and force myself to forget about what lies ahead.
Why didAddy let me drink so much? My brain feels like it’s pounding against my skull. My mouth is dry, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth when I attempt to swallow.
Cracking my eyes open one at a time, there’s light filtering in through my open curtains. I contemplate getting up and closing them, going back to sleep, and forgetting that today is an important day.
None of that happens.
The next thing I know, my body is bouncing off the bed and hitting the floor with a loud thud.
“Mama, I’m sorry.”
Lola. She loves waking me up by jumping on the bed. Normally, I hear her coming down the hall at the apartment. I prepare for the assault. Not today.
Today I didn’t hear her sneak in.
I didn’t feel her crawl up on the bed.
I certainly didn’t prepare for her to be able to bounce me off it.
Looking up and forcing a smile, I see two sets of eyes staring at me from the bed.
No wonder I was propelled. She had a little help this morning in the form of Aunt Addy. Why doesn’t she look like shit? Why isn’t she still under the covers praying for the sun to go away?
Oh yeah!
I drank the second bottle of wine by myself. And a third if I remember correctly. Everything is a little blurry after I returned to the porch to find Addy texting, trying to hide the huge grin on her face.
“Up and at em, chick. Today’s the day. You have exactly one hour to get yourself together and get in your car. That was the deal,” Addy sings as she snuggles with Lola on my bed.
“What deal?” I ask, pushing myself off the floor, reaching for the bed when I start to wobble on my feet.
Covering Lola’s ear, she says “You don’t remember anything from last night, do you?”
“I remember plenty,” I reply defensively.
“Sure you do. Go take a shower and after breakfast, we’ll chat.”
My stomach churns at the mention of food, but I roll my eyes at Addy and head to shower. Halfway through washing my hair, Addy’s words begin to make sense. My stomach rolls again and I rush out of the shower to expel the contents of my stomach into the toilet.
Sitting on the floor naked, I rest my head in my hands and contemplate my escape. There’s no way of leaving without being noticed. Not without Lola.
