Page 97 of A Forever Love

Instead of replying to her, I ask, “Where did you get that?”

I’m not sure if it’s a trick of my mind, but for a brief moment, I sense a knowing grin on her face, as though she’s been patiently anticipating this question all along.

“I got it at a friend’s shop, the same place I got the others. But why the sudden interest?”

“Merida has one on her wrist.”

“What did she say about it when you asked?”

“I…” I hesitate because I can’t believe I allowed Merida to dismiss it as something trivial. “She said she likes lilies,” I respond, feeling incredibly foolish.

“And you believed that?” Her eyebrows arch, as though out of all the things I’ve shared tonight, including breaking the heart of a woman eleven years younger than me, this is the most unbelievable. When I don’t openly admit my own stupidity, she huffs, “Project Semicolon was started in 2013 by a woman named Amy Bleuel after her father committed suicide. It’s a mental health tattoo symbolizing that we choose to persevere. That this phase isn’t the end but just a pause, like a semicolon.”

A wave of nausea washes over me. “She got it because of me?” The words escape as a question, unintended yet hanging heavy in the air.

My eyes flutter close as I recall Merida standing outside my shower on my first day in Cherrywood. Her trembling chin and the deep creases etched on her cheeks and forehead betrayed the emotions she was struggling to contain. I had witnessed this turmoil on her face a few more times since that day. But I never bothered to press her enough for an answer.

“The proof that I’m a damn parasite, leeching all the goodness out of her life, was right in front of me, and I chose to ignore it.” My grip tightens around my empty glass, and the bartender places her hand over mine, her tattoo mocking me as if I’m not already drowning in pain.

“You’re giving me that look, Mr. Parasite, that means you’re heading straight to her place from here. With a downturned face and gritted teeth, you’ll tell her that you regret causing her so much pain, and you believe she’s better off without you.” She pauses, stealing the words right from my brain. “Let me tell you something else. Do you know how many people die just wishing they had someone in their life who loved them?”

Mom’s face flashes before me at her question.

“You’re one of the lucky ones in here to have someone who cares about you,” she continues. “Otherwise, this bar is filled with people who’ve got no one. So treat her like the gift she is.” She finally removes her hand.

My phone, face down on the bar top, starts to ring at the same moment, and she raises an eyebrow. “Remember what I said.”

I pick it up and see Merida’s face on the screen. After placing a hundred-dollar bill on the counter, I make my exit.

I’m going to fix whatever I’ve broken. Including my girl.

“Hi, mittens. All okay?”

“Um, yeah. Is everything okay with you?”

“Of course. I just went out for a drink, but now I’m heading back to the apartment. Why are you not with the other members of the King girl gang?”

“King girl gang?” Her giggles soften the ache in my chest, like a gentle melody weaving through the cracks of my guilt-filled heart, mending the shattered pieces back together. “Is that what we’re called now?”

“Don’t know. It felt right in the moment.”

“It definitely sounded good.” The smile in her voice wavers as she lightly clears her throat. “Um, Carter, are you alone?”

The pressure of the evening unfurls inside me once again. Mere was always unsure. How did I not see this coming? I turn on the camera. “I am alone and missing you badly.” I stand under the lamppost, leaning against the metal rod. “Hey, what are you doing in your room?” I look behind her to find purple walls.

“There’s a small break before we move on to the second stage of our girls’ night, which is movie time, by the way. Right now, Clem and Autumn are in the kitchen making popcorn. Minnie and Birdie are at Dad’s bar, with Minnie handling the drinks while Birdie gives nonstop instructions, despite never having made a cocktail in her entire life.” Merida chuckles before adding, “And I’m in charge of choosing the movie.”

“How come you’re talking to me? I’ve never seen you not doing the work you’re supposed to, mittens.”

She leans back, taking her phone with her from wherever it was resting on her study table, and the view behind her changes. Instead of the vaulted ceiling, I spot a photograph from Keith and Clem’s wedding. Merida is dressed in a best man suit with a pink tie, standing next to me, my arms casually draped over her shoulders. Someone must have cracked a joke, because everyone is laughing at the camera, but Merida is lost in her own world, looking at me.

There’s no one in this world who can love me like she does. The bartender was right; I’m a lucky asshole for having her. How could I even think about abandoning her a second time?

“Hello.” Merida waves on the screen. “Did you even hear what I said?”

“Shit, no. I was lost in my thoughts, babe.”

“I love it when you call me that.” Her creased forehead relaxes, and a huge smile plays on her lips. It makes me want to crawl inside the phone and pull her close to me.

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