Page 125 of Something Forever

“I’m just fucking with you. I believe in you. You’re probably the most determined person I’ve ever met.”

“Seriously?”

He nods, his face serious. “Yeah. You totally weaseled your way into our lives.”

I shove him again, chuckling. Jackson comes bounding into the room, his backpack hanging off his shoulder. He’s finished almost all of his college applications, so now we’re just waiting to hear back. Columbia is his first choice, and I’m hoping he ends up there, too. It would be great if I could return to grad school with him.

“Has she written you back yet? Or texted?” Jackson asks, glancing over my shoulder.

I shake my head. “Still nothing.”

He clasps my shoulder and smiles. “She’ll come around. I know she will.”

His confidence in me feels like a salve on my wound, but I wish I could share in his assuredness. Jackson and Darius make coffee in the kitchen while I finish the last few sentences of my latest letter with a sigh. I fiddle with my phone, debating. Before I can back out, I dial Abbi’s number again, tapping my foot in anticipation. She picks up on the third ring, her annoyance immediately clear.

“I gotta give you credit for persistence, but you do know I have a life, right?”

“Please don’t hang up,” I beg her. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Another one? You’re starting to get pathetic, Liam.”

I smirk, rubbing the back of my neck. “So I’ve heard.”

She sighs. “What do you want?”

“You’re coming back to the city for Whitney’s opening tomorrow night, right?”

“Of course. You think I’d miss my best friend’s big night?” she snaps.

Jackson waves goodbye from the doorway, coffee in hand, and I wave back. I cross the room towards the hallway, hoping for a semblance of privacy.

“I wasn’t insinuating that. I just?—”

“Make your point, Liam. I already helped you out once by convincing Whitney to go home and talk to you. I’m not on your side, so stop trying to loop me into whatever grand gesture you have planned.”

“We want the same thing, which is Whitney’s happiness, right?”

She clicks her tongue. “Yes, I want my best friend to be happy, but I’m not convinced you’re the one to help with that, to be honest.”

Running my hand through my hair, I suppress a sigh. I should have known calling Abbi would leave me on the verge of a verbal castration.

“I love her. You know I do,” I point out.

“Sometimes that isn’t enough, Liam.”

“I know. I know, but tomorrow night is my last chance to show her how much she means to me.”

Abbi hums on the other line. “And why is that? Why is her big night your opportunity to make everything about you and your fuck-ups? God, you’re such a guy.”

I consider her words. “Do you have a better idea? A man can only bare his heart out so many times before he gives up. I don’t know what else to do.”

“Just be there,” Abbi says, her tone softening. “Don’t come with some romantic proclamation or symbol of your dying adoration. Just show up for her. Let her know that you’re gonna keep showing up, no matter what happens. If two weeks of unrequited letter-writing is all it takes for you to give up on your marriage, you aren’t the man I thought you were.”

“That was almost a compliment,” I point out.

“Don’t push your luck.”

I rub at my chest, trying to dull the ache there. “She told you about the letters?”

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