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I laugh, then grip my phone a little tighter. “Hey, Allie?”
“If you’re going to say something mildly melodramatic and emotional, please don’t. I’m doing my eye makeup.”
“I missed you.”
“I never left, Lucy,” Allie says quietly. “I just didn’t know what you needed from me.”
My heart squeezes inside my chest and I feel my stomach drop. I had been the worst daughter, and the worst friend, for so long—fortoolong. I felt like I would be spending the rest of my life making the past few months up to the people I loved. The people who loved me, Before and After.
"I didn’t know what I needed either, from anyone.”
“Do you know now?”
“Not really, but I’m letting people back in, if that counts.”
“It counts, Lucy. All I ever wanted to do was be there for you.”
“You can be here for me now.”
“Only if you buy me coffee.”
I laugh. “Deal.”
I hang up and walk into my bathroom, splashing my face for what feels like the millionth time in the last few hours. My eyes are still a little puffy and my cheeks flushed, but it’s better than nothing.
Fifteen minutes later I’m pulling into my favorite local coffee shop. I order and sit in one of the booths, waiting for Allie. I pull out my phone and send a quick text to Stacey.
Me:Hey, wanted to let you know I’m going to be out this Thursday and Friday. I haven’t talked to Dr. Fitz yet, I’ll tell him at work tomorrow.
Stacey:Okay, no worries! Everything okay?
Me:Yeah, just some stuff of my dad’s I have to take care of.
Stacey:Say no more. If you need anything I’m here.
Me:Thank you, it really means a lot.
I slide my phone back in my bag as Allie walks in and waves at me. She orders, then comes to sit across from me.
“Hey.” I smile at her.
Allie grins. “Hey. So, you gonna tell me why you called? Or are we going to do that awkward ‘sorry it’s been so long’conversation first?”
I laugh and shake my head. This is my best friend, and god, how I missed her.
“My dad put the beach house in my name when I turned twenty,” I say.
Allie’s eyes widen and she whistles. “Whoa, okay. Wasn’t expecting that.”
I blow out a breath and lean my head back against the booth. “Yeah, me either.”
I tell her the rest of the story, stopping when the barista says our coffees are ready. When I finish, Allie takes a long sip of her coffee.
“Are you going to say anything?” I ask.
“Depends. Do you want me to tell you what I think you want to hear or do you want me to tell you the truth?”
“The truth. I always want the truth.”
