Page 39 of We Redeemed the Rain

My heart flipped.

A tight swallow moved his neck and jaw. “I know you, don’t I?”

Under his scrutiny, my cheeks flamed. I swallowed hard, too, and then, for lack of words…nodded.

Yes, you know me.

He reached out, plucking my left hand into his. His fingers slid down mine, lingering on the tips—my calluses—before letting my hand drop. He took a quick step back, whispering, “It’s you. Holy shit. You’re…”

I barely recognized my own voice. “Yes. It’s me.”

We breathed my nickname in unison. “Strings.”

Except I was smiling. He was not.

He shook his head a few times like he couldn’t believe I was standing there. My lifted cheeks slowly fell as I watched him pace away. He stopped, looked back at me and my heart spiraled. The warmth rolled away from his expression as his face hardened in agitation. What I was feeling—elation, relief—was one-sided, and the realization was a dagger dragging through my midsection.

His quiet question bordered on accusation. “Whatare you doing here?”

My heart hit the gravel. Out of all the things I imagined happening tonight, being unwelcome didn’t even cross my mind. We weren’t just friends. We were best friends. And he looked…upset?

“I…needed some time away?—”

“So you camehere? Why?”

I opened my mouth, but no words came. How could I answer that question in a single line?

Every insecurity I'd ever footed came clawing up my esophagus.Nothing about this moment had gone the way I planned. Aware of my sopping wet clothing, I attempted to discreetly create space between my shirt and my skin, pinching it away from me. The fabric suctioned with a noisyschluppand created a flattering air bubble between my belly and boobs.

Unfortunately, the action only served to draw his attention. His gaze dropped to my body then bounced toward the night sky like the image of me burned his retinas.

I wanted to die.Someone please come kill me.

Where was that bear?

Or a coyote. A mountain lion. Any wild animal would do.

He looked at everything but me then sighed as he ran a hand down his face. “Uh, lemme get you a towel, and I’ll be right back.”

My emotional strength spun down the drain like someone pulled a plug. Tears swept over my vision. I sniffled, fighting them back. I could not cry yet.

It took him several minutes to come back and offer me a fluffy towel. I quickly squeezed out my hair then wrapped it around my shoulders, thankful for something soft to hide behind.

He cleared his throat, cautiously chancing a glance as he handed me my purse. I looked back up at his face, unable to help myself.

His expression was blank, his thoughts hidden away.

He shoved his hands into his jeans’ pockets and jerked his head toward the side door. “Come on. I’ll show you your room.”

Apparently, we weren't going to talk about the fact that we were best friends and hadn’t spoken in ten years.

Every silent step made me feel smaller, more ridiculous than the step before. Why did I let Paula’s stupid picture mess with my head? Why did I come here? Why was he so perturbed to see me?

The end of our letter writingwaspainful, but it was natural. I figured he just got too busy or he outgrew me. Did we leave off on a bad note? If we did, I couldn’t remember. I wracked my brain as I followed him through the side door, into an outdated kitchen, and down the left hallway.

We stopped at a bedroom with an adjoining bath. Simple, aged decor graced the space but at least it was clean. I immediatelynoticed the plug-in air freshener in the wall. The room smelled like vanilla.

I didn't look up at him. The welling tears would fall.

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