Page 71 of The Cost of Forgetting You

“I didn’t really think you’d meet up with me, if I’m being honest.” Alicia takes a sip of her latte. Milk foam pools on her upper lip, and she releases my hand to swipe it away with a napkin. “You didn’t seem too keen when I initially asked.”

The sound of conversation ebbing and flowing, of coffee grinders buzzing, fills the silence between us for a beat. I suck in an aromatic breath and let it out slowly through barely parted lips. The truth is, Truett was right about people changing. About letting people grow, letting them become someone we might not have believed they could be. And since I’m too terrified to apply that logic to him, I picked the next logical person to call.

Alicia doesn’t look at me with any expectation written in her wide brown gaze. She laid it all bare that day in her new classroom, and now she’s giving me the option to do the same. I get the sense I could brush the question off with a nonanswer, and she’d let it go. But that wouldn’t gain me any friends, and Truett hit too close to the truth on that for me to bear. I’ve isolated myself for too long, and for what?

“To be honest, I didn’t plan to at first.” I move a piece of biscuit through a pool of chocolate gravy, back and forth, forming a divide. “I want you to know I’m not angry at you. Not anymore. What you did hurt me a lot back then, but you were a kid. We all were.”

Her throat tenses as she swallows. Her eyes are glassy, cheeks hollow. “I’m so sorry I left you alone to deal with that mess. When Truett said you’d left town, well… I couldn’t help but think it was my fault.”

“You weren’t the one bullying me.”

“I didn’t stop it, either.” A tear puddles on the apple of her cheek. I recognize the sheen of regret in her eyes. I’m sure mine look very much the same.

I drop the fork and reach for her hand. “We’ve all made mistakes. The important thing is that we learn from them.”

“God, you sound like Truett.” Her laugh is part sigh. A relieved smile softens her mouth. Today her lipstick is a vibrant pink that reminds me of the azaleas growing wild along the roads. It suits her.

I think of their easy conversation that day at the school. “Do you two hang out a lot?”

She shakes her head. “No. We see each other around town as much as anyone, but we’re not nearly as tight as the two of you were. There was this one time, though, when I was home on break from college. I ran into him at the Crow Bar and we got to talking about life. About you.”

I imagine the two of them in the local dive, discussing me over a couple of beers. My cheeks warm. “What about me?”

What few sharp edges she has go soft. I feel her gaze tracing my features, and I wonder what it is she’s looking for. Her cheek twitches, the prelude to a smile, and that’s the only hint I get.

“We both had a lot of regrets about how we handled things, that’s all.” She sucks in a breath, sits up straight, and rearranges her face into her normal brand of sunshine. “But you two seemed to work things out, yeah?”

The bell over the door jingles, signifying the pseudo-book club has concluded their discussion. I watch them leave, hoping beyond hope that Alicia no longer possesses the uncanny ability to read me like a letter. “Sure.”

“Oh, come on.” She nudges my shin with the toe of her sandal beneath the table. “Explain that look.”

I sigh. Of course. “Glad to see you haven’t changed a bit.”

“I’ve changed a ton,” she says, puffing up her chest. “But you’re still terrible at hiding your emotions. What’s wrong? Haven’t told him you’re in love with him yet?”

“I’m not in love with him,” I grumble. My biscuit is stodgy and cold at this point, but I take a bite anyway to have something to do.

“I know I’m not a doctor, but my husband is. I’ll bet I could get him to prescribe you something for that denial.” She swirls a finger in my direction.

I roll my eyes, and she chuckles.

“In all seriousness, Delilah, can I give you a piece of unsolicited advice?”

“It wouldn’t be unsolicited if I said yes.”

Her grin is wicked. “Exactly.”

I ball my napkin up and toss it at her. She dodges, and the employee cleaning up the book club table scowls at us.

“Sorry!” I scurry over to collect my garbage and bring it back to the table. Alicia is trembling with laughter by the time I return. “Go on, before I get us kicked out of the nicest restaurant in town.”

“Uh-uh. The only restaurant in town.”

I point my fork at her. “How could you forget the Grille?”

“Does the Grille count if it’s technically outside of city limits?” She shrugs. “I’m just saying.”

I roll my eyes but smile. “Touché.”

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