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“Laura, c’mon,” she whines. “Tell me what’s changed since crying about t-shirts.”
I roll my eyes. Glancing over my shoulder, I can still kind of see David in the kitchen. I decide it’s too big of a risk and walk away, towards the bench by the water.
“I’m just… I don’t want to have the what-ifs, you know?”
“I do not know,” Alice says. “I have missed something.”
“What if he wants me and I want him and the only real thing stopping us is that we’re being toostupidto talk about it?” I sit down on the bench, looking out at the glittering blue water.
“That’s… ugh, such a good and mature point,” Alice sighs.
I grin, triumphant. “If it doesn’t work… Well, how muchmoreheartbroken can I get?”
Alice laughs. “Okay, that’s an even better point.”
“I’ve got to try. Once. For real. No ruses or lies or miscommunication—just me, truly trying.”
“Then, shit, girl,” Alice says. “I’m really wishing you the best.”
I thank her, and she tells me a bit about her weekend so far. By the time we hang up on the phone, the sky has turned darker. It’s cold like evening now, and I shiver.
Standing up, I look towards the cabin. The lights look even warmer now. Even though I know I shouldn’t, I can’t help but feel a burst of hope.
I’ve never tried being fully honest with David. Maybe… Maybe that’s all we needed after all.
I shove my phone in my pocket, heading back towards the house. My feet are so cold, my toes are numb. I shake my head at myself for letting myself stay out here so long I’m walking back on numb feet, and then?—
The world slips.
Or, more accurately, I do.
My foot hits hard on a root or a rock or a hard piece of earth, and then I crash hard onto the cold ground. My head cracks against the bench, and I fall flat against the hard dirt ground.
Everything goes dark, and my last thought is that I’m really, really cold.
CHAPTER 30
David
When Jessi comes inside with her arms crossed and her nose scrunched, I know she knows.
I don’t knowhowI know she knows. Only that she’s my ex and my friend and the mother of my children, and the way she’s looking at me right now is exactly like how she looked at Benji when he, at five years old, told her he wished he had a different mommy. Heartbroken, furious, and just a bit indulgent: it makes me feel young and embarrassed.
I immediately bee-line to the kitchen. Benji is in there, cracking open a soda. He looks at me, guilt on his face, and I sigh.
“It’s fine,” I say.
Benji frowns at me. “How come?”
“It’s… Valentine’s Day. It’s a holiday.” It’s a flimsy excuse, and the real reason is that his mom is about to tear me a new one, so I need him to get out of the kitchen fast.
“Wow, can I have chocolate cake too?” he asks, eyes bright.
“If you make it yourself,” Jessi says. “From scratch.”
Benji sighs, incredibly put out, and I laugh lightly as he slinks away, coke in his hand.
I turn around, leaning against the counter. I fold my arms, then decide that makes me look too defensive.
