Page 84 of The Roommate Lie

Charlie turns back toward the view and plants his hands on the observation deck railing. Then he waits for me to do the same.

“Edna said the most important thing I could do after rehab was choose the life I wanted. Picture it and make sure I was always moving toward it. She told me when you don’t, life chooses for you. And usually, the life that just shows up isn’t the one you wanted.”

Something about that resonates deep inside me. The idea isn’t perfect—it doesn’t take into account all the things you can’t choose, the twists and turns in life that just happen whether you wanted them to or not—but that thought still feels meaningful. Visualizing the future you want feels like the most practical sort of dreaming, the most Edna kind of wish.

“Close your eyes.”

I do, and the view below me fades. In that quiet darkness, I breathe a little easier, my fear of heights ebbing the tiniest bit.

“To make an Edna wish, all you have to do is picture the life you want,” he says. “Hold it in your mind, make it as vivid and specific as you can. Then count to three and open your eyes.”

It doesn’t take me long to decide. I know what I want—who I want. He’s standing right beside me, his voice easing over me like a summer breeze, soft and warm. But other people aren’t something you can choose. Not all the way. Not when they don’t choose you back.

Keeping my eyes shut, I try again. I make my wish more general this time, focusing on the kind of man I want to find one day, how I want to be loved. Not begrudgingly or conditionally but completely, with someone’s entire heart.

I want a love where I don’t have to be perfect—where I can struggle or face obstacles and that other person’s love never goes away. I want someone who accepts me for me, who loves me for me, no matter what.

After I let that sink in, I visualize other things too. Peace for my sister and my family. A life where we have the strength to tackle whatever comes our way. A life where we band together instead of falling apart.

Tears sting my eyes, and I can feel Charlie move closer. The gentle brush of his thumb as he wipes those tears away. “You’ve been through a lot,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t get better. You can still have the life you want.”

I hope so. And standing beside him, I can picture it—the life I want, my very own Edna wish. Holding it in my mind, I count to three and open my eyes.

“Did you make your wish?” he asks.

My voice is a whisper. As wistful as a prayer. “Yeah.”

There’s something vulnerable in Charlie’s eyes as he gazes down at me, and there’s something vulnerable in mine. He searches my face, and that look he’s giving me is full of tenderness, full of understanding. Gradually, his expression shifts into something more expectant, but I’m not sure what he’s waiting for, what he wants me to notice or say. My confusion makes a slow smile spread across his face, and he fills me in.

“That was Nice List item number three,” he says softly. “Make a wish.”

He pretends to check it off on an imaginary list, and my heart squeezes. How have we completed so many things already? How is my time in Ponderosa Falls nearly done?

“Our list is almost finished.” I can’t help the sadness in my voice.

Charlie nods, and he sounds a little sad too. “We should’ve made a longer list, Allie-cat.”

That shouldn’t make my heart squeeze harder, but it does. He says that, and all I can feel is disappointed. All I can think is that I wish he’d call me Carrots again, one last time, so I can savor it and hold on to that memory forever.

Our time together is almost over; our list is almost done—except it isn’t. Maybe our Nice List is nearly complete with only one item left, but we haven’t made a dent in our not-so-nice list. We haven’t marked off a single thing.

We could now, though…

“We still have the other list,” I remind him. “We could work on item number three if you want—fool the Victorian.”

That isn’t really item number three. I should’ve said “make Alice’s ex jealous,” but I don’t care about Jason right now; I haven’t cared since we broke up. And some small part of me wants Charlie to know.

He glances at the observation deck around us, taking in the mix of Pondies and tourists before his eyes settle back on mine, the slightest hint of danger in his smile. “What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know—this just seems like a good spot for a first kiss. A Hallmark-worthy fake one. To fool the Victorian.”

In my heart, I know I’m taking this too far. My suggestion is more about me and my feelings for Charlie than fixing his reputation, but I don’t back down. Maybe I can’t have himforever. Maybe I’m not his type and he won’t think twice about me once I’m gone, but I can have this moment on Four Pines Peak. I can have right now.

If he wants to.

Charlie bites his lip and leans back against the observation deck barrier to face me. Like he couldn’t care less about the view. “You’d have to take the lead,” he reminds me. “You’re the predator, and I’m the prey, remember? Do you think you can handle that?”

He’s baiting me. There’s so much teasing in his eyes, so much flirt it makes my skin prickle. I angle my body toward his and hold his gaze, testing the waters. He doesn’t look away.

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