Page 40 of Advice from a Sunflower

"Since when do they need a sandbox?"

"Since they asked for one."

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" she asks, climbing up to her feet and dusting off the knees of her jeans.

"Spoil them. They don't need all this stuff. They're just happy to have you here."

"Here we go again." She rolls her eyes skyward and begins to stomp toward the back door Marnie just disappeared behind. "I can't do this with you right now."

"Stop," I call out to her back, surprising both of us. "I'm sorry. Let's get this put together for the girls and then we never have to speak again."

That's not even close to what I want, but I can't seem to translate my thoughts out loud without sounding like a complete asshole. It's like being around her evaporates any common sense I have and I'm left bumbling around cluelessly.

Mouse considers this for a moment before finally relenting, stepping off the small patio steps with pure dread.

"I'm only doing this for them," she insists, crouching down to grab the drill again. I jerk my hand in front of her, blocking her path.

"I'll handle the power tools. Grab the instructions."

Chapter 20

Lyla

We spent the afternoon piecing together the most complicated sand box I've ever seen, speaking as little as possible outside of me reading off instructions and him following them. Marnie cowered inside the house, occasionally peeking her head out the door to make sure neither of us strangled the other. I'll be having a long conversation with her about boundaries after this.

"Where did you even find this thing?" Eli complained as he screwed the last two pieces together.

"I didn't think it had to be put together. Don't these things usually come assembled?"

When I saw the unicorn shaped set in the store, I just had to have it. I couldn't help it. Marnie and I never got things like this and I wanted it to be different for them. Now, I wish I would have just gone with a simple plastic turtle.

"I didn't mean to offend you earlier. I just meant—"

"I know what you meant, Eli. Save it."

"No, you don't." He drags the unicorn over the lawn near the sandbags that were waiting to fill it. Once it's in place, he lets his hands hang on his hips lazily.

"I just meant that you're enough. You don't have to buy anyone's affection. They're just happy to have you here."

The hem of his shirt rises up, exposing a small patch of pale skin just above his groin. I quickly move my eyes back up to his face, but the smug look he's wearing tells me I've been caught.

"Marnie said you and Josh had grown close."

Eli nods, his face sobering at the mention of Josh. "He was my best friend."

"It must suck that he left then."

And then it all hits me.

How could I be so selfish? I saw our dinner as two friends catching up—even as a celebration for my own achievements. I never considered how he might have felt that night, or the whole time I've been here. I'm sure he wanted to be in the company of an old friend for support, and instead I spent the first half of our night flaunting everything I gained from leaving him behind.

And let's be honest, that's exactly what I did. He was right. I got spooked after giving myself over to him that night all those years ago and hightailed out of here faster than he could blink. I couldn't stand the idea that what happened between us wasn't real and I never considered what it might have done to him if it was. But he still ran right back into Emma's arms and that was the only confirmation I needed that I'd done the right thing. Maybe that was wrong. Maybe the situation wasn't as black and white as I might have thought.

In my quest to become a stronger willed person, have I lost the one trait I truly identified with—my compassion for others? Have I officially become so self-absorbed that I can't even recognize when someone else is hurting anymore?

That's not what I ever wanted.

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