Page 109 of First Comes Forever

“Oh,” Noa says softly.

Pausing, I ensure the shower is still running and Amani can’t hear me. “But she’s staying in L.A. for me, and I don’t think it’s good for her. If she moves back to Denver, I need to know you’re going to take care of her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, I’ve always known you and your friends are close, but she has secrets that aren’t mine to tell. She’ll tell you when she’s ready, but I think she’s broken more than I realize. She needs her home and to start fresh.”

“What’s going on?” Noa asks, a little more sternly, her mom voice kicking in. “What am I missing? What happened to Amani?”

“Just promise me you’ll take care of her. It’s the only way I can let her go.”

There’s silence on the line for a while. I’m sure Noa’s debating whether she should press me harder for details, or just hang up the phone and call Amani herself. But she agrees to my cryptic request.

“Adam, I’ve loved her for much longer than you have. Of course I’ll take care of her. We all will.”

“Okay,” I breathe out. “Good. Thank you.”

I hang up the phone, knowing I sealed our fate. It hurts, but I just want Amani to breathe again. I can’t let her lose that smile. And if after everything we’ve been through, I’m not packing my bags to follow behind, I wonder if maybe we just weren’t meant to be.

Maybe she’s the right girl, at the wrong time. Perhaps we were just here to help each other get unstuck. All I know is summer is long gone.

It’s time to move forward.

thirty-one

All my belongings are packed and shipped, but Adam’s condo is still full. I’m surrounded by all the furniture he bought for us. My mom’s medical expenses are still gobbling up every spare penny in my bank account. I didn’t pay for the couch, coffee table, the bed, or bedroom set, so why would I take it?

Still, Adam insists.

“I bet Noa and Chase’s guesthouse is empty, Amani. You should let me ship everything to you,” Adam says as he leans against the kitchen island. “You said money was tight, right?”

“You already fixed my car and had it shipped,” I grumble. More accurately, Adam paid for my car to be rebuilt. I refused to take his Porsche. He offered, but I swear he looked relieved when I declined. Then he even went as far as arranging transport for my car so I didn’t have to make the long drive back to Denver. “I don’t want to take anything else from you.”

“You took nothing from me, Amani.”

I study the wrinkles on his forehead that seem permanently fixed on his face. For the past month, as we arranged my move back to Denver, Adam’s face has been set in a scowl. I know it was his idea, but he’s still hurt over it. At first, I tried to ignore it. I told Adam I was fine, and I wanted to stay here in L.A. and be with him, but I felt more lost than ever.

I was sad for the rest of February, but of course, that was expected. I was grieving. There were no major physical ramifications to the early miscarriage, but the emotional wreckage was rough. I think I was mostly angry about being strung along. What was the point? If it wasn’t meant to be, why did it drag out for so long? I made my peace when I was told I wasn’t pregnant. Why was I handed my dreams for them to be ripped away only a few days later?

Why did I have to break Adam’s heart in the process, too? To this day, I wish I didn’t tell him. Had I kept my mouth shut, only one of us would hurt right now. What you don’t know can’t break your heart.

Adam stayed nearby for the first two weeks after the emergency room visit, but eventually, he had to go back to work. But he was distracted and admitted more than once he was screwing things up left and right. Mr. Montgomery had a good day, and because I wasn’t feeling up for a visit, Adam only left me for a few hours. Normally, he spends all day with his dad. I shortened him precious time with his father. I was draining both of us.

Once, I volunteered to watch Carson so Tara and Alex could go to dinner. Adam studied me like a hawk, so I went extra hard, faking my enthusiasm. But honestly, I was miserable. The first time I watched Carson back in summer of last year, I was full of hope. The second, I was full of envy. Shortly after that, I stopped getting out of bed.

I left Denver to run from this version of me. But the old Amani was back. Up and down energy. Dark skies. Ungenuine smiles. Just begging to be left alone. Except this time, I couldn’t distract myself with doom scrolling.

By March, my influencer business was obsolete. My once manic, obsessive need to create content and police the trolls was over. I even deleted my accounts so I wasn’t tempted to backtrack. Sometimes easy money is tempting. But I have to remember the actual cost… My sanity.

I was officially alone with my thoughts. I fantasized about a new city. Not L.A., not home, just somewhere no one knew me so I didn’t have to try to be myself. I could be anyone…

I could be sad.

The next time Adam brought up Denver, it wasn’t a gentle nudge. He asked me if I was happy. I told him the truth…no, not even close. He asked me what I wanted. I wasn’t sure. Then, he asked me what I needed. That answer was easiest… I needed home. Of course he knew all along and was waiting for me to come to the same conclusion. Once I said the word, he hopped into action and made all the arrangements for me. I didn’t have to lift a finger. He took care of me the way he had since day one.

We talked, and we planned, but now that it’s time to go, I’m wondering what the hell I’m doing. Why am I walking away from what should’ve been my happily ever after?

“Are you going to be okay?” I ask, pressing my hands against Adam’s chest. He’s wearing such a thin black T-shirt, I can feel his scarce chest hair. He wraps his arms around me and breathes me in.

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