Page 5 of In Too Deep

Lori groans, and I can hear the worry in it. “You can’t. Honestly, I’m not sure it’s the best idea for you to be there. Are you going to be able to handle it if he goes while you’re there?”

It’s not a big secret I don’t handle these types of things very well. I’m an empath, always taking on other people’s emotions as my own. I tend to avoid places with too much of it—funerals, hospitals, and even weddings. It’s why I chose a career in marketing. There’s no feeling involved in data and numbers. I could never work in the medical field or be a police officer like Spencer.

“No. It’s going to kill me, but I need to be here for Caroline and her family.”

She lets out a relenting moan. “Are there a lot of people there?”

“Too many. Lawrence is here.”

“Gross. Have you talked to him?”

“Not yet. He just got here a few minutes ago.” My stomach flutters as I look back at the house, knowing I’ll likely have to speak to him eventually. “Do you think it’s normal to never really get over your first love?”

She laughs sarcastically, and I can picture the condescending expression on her face. “You’re asking the wrong person. I wouldn’t have a clue, seeing as I’ve never been in love. Why? Are you saying you still have feelings for Lawrence?” The accusation in her tone is deafening.

“No…I mean, it’s not like that. You know I love Spencer. It’s just…I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. When I see Lawrence, I still feel it, my love for him.” Lori scoffs, and I dig the toe of my black converse into the gravel, wishing I’d kept my damn mouth shut. It’s not that I think Lori would ever say anything to Spencer about this, but her loyalty seems to be a little divided these days. “Obviously I’m not still in love with him. I don’t even know him anymore. But I still feel that connection to him.”

“I’m sure a little nostalgia is normal. Just don’t get lost in it. Remember, you’ve got a good thing going with Mr. Wonderful.”

I roll my eyes. Spencer is wonderful. Almost too flawless at times. Everyone likes him—my best friend, my parents, my sister. And rightfully so. In the nine months we’ve been dating, he’s been nothing short of perfect. We haven’t even once exchanged heated words. But if passion and love go hand in hand, and passion breeds fury, what does that say about our relationship?

Spencer and I recently started saying the L-word to each other, and I do love him, but sometimes it feels more like a friendly kind of love. The truth is, I’ve been comparing every love I’ve experienced to my first love, and none of them stack up. None of them make me feel alive the way I did that first time. Lord knows Lawrence and I spent plenty of time fighting, though, and look how that turned out. Maybe I’m just looking for issues in my relationship with Spencer because it seems too good to be true.

I mean, even the way we met is like something straight out of a cheesy romance novel. Spencer was the officer who delivered the news to my sister that her husband had been in a horrible car accident. He stayed with Lizzy in the hospital, taking care of her and helping with her kids until I arrived. Who does that? Spencer, apparently.

“Oh, I know. Don’t worry. I should probably get back inside before someone notices I’m missing. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Don’t fret over me, I’m fine. You just be there for your friend and know I’m here if you need me.”

My throat swells with emotion again, and I nod in understanding even though I know she can’t see me. Lori hates hugs, but I would totally give her a big one if she were here right now.

3

After allowing myself a few more minutes of quiet solitude, I head back inside and straight to Dave’s room. Several members from Pam’s church have arrived with boatloads of food, and I’m determined to get Caroline to eat something. It’s late afternoon, and I’m pretty sure she hasn’t eaten a bite all day.

Dave’s room is packed, forcing me to wait in the hallway outside the door until a couple people leave and there’s room inside. I weave myself through everyone, trying to get closer to Caroline. She finally comes into view as I reach the end of the bed, but her vacant eyes are glued on her father the same way they’ve been all day. When I look to my left, searching for a clear path to get to her, my heart comes to a screeching halt. Lawrence is right next to me, closer to me than he’s been in a very long time, close enough that we’re breathing the same air. He either hasn’t noticed I’ve entered the room or he’s ignoring me.

My heart slowly begins to beat again as I study him. Everything about him seems so familiar. It’s like seeing my own reflection for the first time in years, every line and curve committed to memory.

Lawrence’s posture is tense, his expression blank as he stares at Dave’s nearly lifeless body, and I know exactly how he’s feeling right now. Dave was like a father to him, just as he was to me. Lawrence spent as much time in this house as I did growing up, if not more. We’re both barely hanging on to the same slippery cliff.

The crowd shifts as someone else enters the room, causing me to bump Lawrence’s shoulder, gaining his attention. His pain crashes down on me as he looks at me with a sorrowful gaze, his beautiful eyes filled with tears. It feels like someone has knocked the wind out of me. I bite down on the inside of my bottom lip to keep my own emotions at bay.

He gives me a sad smile as he attempts to wipe the moisture from his eyes, and my heart seizes in my chest. I reach in my pocket for the ball of tissues and pull it out before extending one to him.

“Here.” He looks down at the crumpled Kleenex with a furrowed brow, then lifts it in question as he meets my gaze again. “It’s clean. Promise,” I chuckle.

Smirking, he accepts my offer. “Are you sure about that?”

He begins to dry his face as I shrug, smiling mischievously. “I’m about ninety percent sure,” I tease, my voice low enough so only he can hear.

His eyes go wide as he quickly pulls the tissue away from his face, and I cover my mouth to hide my expanding smile. He shakes his head, his shoulders moving with animation as he laughs silently. It’s nice to have some of the sadness lifted from the room, if only for a few seconds. My head feels light as he goes still again. When his eyes lock on mine, my grip on time and reality slips as I get lost in him.

It doesn’t matter that we haven’t spoken in years, or how badly he broke my heart. All I see is the boy I’d loved so completely, even when I knew I shouldn’t and no matter how hard I tried not to. All I can think about is the connection we shared, that bond I still feel all these years later.

My head is trying to hold on to reason, to remind me why I shouldn’t be feeling this way. But my heart, my very soul, is crying out for that love.

For him.

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