Page 46 of In Too Deep

Before I know it, I’m moving toward the exit, rushing out the doors just as Lawrence opens the passenger side door on his dad’s truck.

“Lawrence.” My scream echoes through the parking lot, but I don’t care. He can’t leave without giving me a proper goodbye. No matter what’s going on with us, we never part without a hug. I’m not about to let him go without one now.

The lump in my throat makes it hard to pull in air as Lawrence’s eyes land on me. He holds up his finger, asking his dad to give him a minute before jogging over to me.

“Cat? What’s wrong?”

“You can’t go,” I pant, my eyes glossing over with tears. “Not without a proper goodbye.”

He lets out a rush of air, and there’s a glimmer of fear in his eyes as he pulls me into his arms. Once I’m in his embrace, any doubt I had about his feelings for me fades away. His hold on me is tight as he kisses the side of my head, whispering in my ear, “I love you, KitKat.”

My entire body feels more relaxed, the weight on my chest much lighter. “I love you too.”

He gives me one more squeeze before breaking away, his eyes not meeting mine before scurrying back across the parking lot.

I watch him drive away as my blood runs cold, suddenly feeling as if that were a permanent goodbye.

26

Lawrence

17 Years Ago

I look up from my homework as my mother walks into my bedroom with a sympathetic expression on her face, dropping my pencil with a thud in anticipation of what’s coming.

“Another letter came for you today,” she says, dropping it on my desk.

Refusing to even look at the letter, I grab it and stuff it in my drawer with the rest of them. There are so many of them now, they’re starting to overflow, and it takes some struggling to close it up again. It’s been months since I moved with my mother to Atlanta after my parents’ divorce. Months since I’ve seen or spoken to Cat, and she still hasn’t given up on me. Though, I wish she would. I could kill Caroline for giving Cat my address and Robbie for giving it to Caroline.

“Don’t you think you should at least see what the girl has to say?”

“No, Ma, I don’t. We’ve been over this.”

She lifts her eyebrow in warning at my harsh tone, her hand landing on her hip as she continues. “We have, but I still don’t get it, son. You went from acting as if this girl was your world to cutting her completely out of your life. I think you at least owe her an explanation.”

I groan and pick up my pencil, turning my attention back to the assignment in front of me. “Why do you even care? I thought you hated Cat.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. I never said I hated her.” She takes a seat on the end of my bed, and my jaw tics. “I’ll admit I was worried about you falling so hard for her. I just didn’t want you to get your heart broken, but after reading her letter…”

When the first letter from Cat arrived, my mother thought someone had sent my father a letter to her by mistake. Or at least that was the excuse she used for reading it. I still don’t know what the letter says, but it apparently changed my mother’s opinion of Cat.

“That girl loves you. Which is why I don’t understand what you’re doing. This has to be breaking her heart, and she may not be able to forgive you for that.”

The last thing I want is for Cat to hate me. I’ve considered giving in, lying awake at night and thinking about her letters, fighting the urge to read them. But if I do, I’ll call her or even try to go see her, and I can’t.

I love Cat. I likely always will. But that’s why I need to let her go. She needs to be able to move on with her life, and I know she’ll never do that if I’m in it. Neither of us will. All I can do is hope she’ll understand and forgive me one day. If I’m lucky enough to ever see her again.

Catelyn

Caroline sighs, continuing to search for her size on the rack of tiny dresses. This is typically how she reacts every time I bring Lawrence up these days. I’m sure she’s tired of hearing it. All I talk about is how much I miss him or how much it hurt me that he cut me out of his life. I just wish she’d be a little more understanding.

Then again, how could she? She’s never had anything like I had with Lawrence, never experienced that kind of real connection with someone. She doesn’t give my relationship with Lawrence the credibility it deserves because he was never officially my boyfriend and we’d never done anything sexual. In her mind, Caroline’s relationship with Andrew was more tangible simply because she’d given him her virginity, but they never had the kind of closeness I shared with Lawrence.

We were so much more than titles or exchanged body fluids. My love for him was raw and unconditional, and I thought he felt the same for me. That’s why it’s so hard for me to wrap my head around what he did. How he could just walk away as if it never happened. Some days, I even question my sanity, wondering if I’d imagined all of it. My detailed journaling is the only thing I have supporting the memories I shared with him.

“Why are we still talking about Lawrence? I thought you were dating that Jace guy now.”

My jaw grinds as I sigh, my eyes roaming around the compact retail space, making sure no one is close enough to hear our conversation. “I am, but I love Lawrence. That doesn’t just go away overnight.”

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