Page 79 of Still The One

EVE CASSIDY

The memory of my conversation with Foster at the playground and hospital continues to linger days later. We haven’t talked about it at all. I’ve worked a lot of hours since then and lately we’ve just binge-watched comedies and kept our conversation light. I think he meant it when he said I didn’t need to decide anything immediately.

But his words are etched deep into my mind like a haunting presence. It’s hard to determine if it’s friendly or horror, but either way, it’s consuming my thoughts. I don’t know how to feel – so I’m letting rum give it a shot. Liquor is truth juice, that always clears things up. Right?

‘Wait, he actually said you were the only girl he’s ever loved?’ Phil’s eyes widen in disbelief as he leans in closer.

‘Yep,’ I confirm, sipping my ‘Hippie Juice’ – a concoction of watermelon vodka, rum, triple sec, and pink lemonade, garnished with fresh strawberries. The drink is not only visually appealing but also dangerously delicious. Usually, I’d regret having one too many. But tonight – my Friday – I need the distraction for my mind and heart.

Phil is keeping me company until Genevieve arrives. Kait is stuck at work and my sister just gave birth to a baby, leaving me with few friends to confide in about this situation.

‘Does he still love you?’ Phil asks, casually sipping his Shirley Temple through luminous white straws.

I shrug, feeling uncertain. ‘He didn’t say. But even if he did, can I trust him? He’s said it before. So has Cayden. Maybe Foster is only feeling things because he’s in my presence again. I don’t know what to believe any more.’

Phil nods sympathetically. ‘I can’t believe you let Cayden live,’ he says, shaking his head in amazement. ‘You’ve got more inner strength than me, sister.’

We share a wickedly evil laugh – as wannabe villains do – then sip our fancy drinks as we sit in our neighborhood bar like we own the place.

The ‘place’ being Glow, a bar that we stumbled upon one night while walking home from another bar. The walls are adorned with vibrant graffiti art done by local professionals and under the black lights, it’s almost mesmerizing. As if that weren’t cool enough, they even provide free glow necklaces and bracelets to add to the ambiance. Of course, both Phil and I are sporting them – his neon pink one wrapped around his forehead like a sweatband or fallen halo, and my neon blue one hugging my neck like a choker. I also have an array of neon yellow, purple, white, and pink bracelets adorning my wrist like a true Taylor Swift fan (which – let’s be real – aren’t we all?).

‘Johnny boy!’ Phil calls out to the bartender, lifting his empty glass and wiggling it in the air. ‘Can I get another, sweetums?’

Johnny flashes his signature wide grin in response to Phil’s theatrics, his dark eyes twinkling mischievously. ‘Coming right up, sugar!’ he calls back, playing along and already expertly mixing another Shirley Temple for Phil with a flourish.

I watch the interaction between the two of them with a smile, feeling grateful for Phil’s presence tonight. He has a way of turning any situation into a comedy sketch, lightening the heavy weight on my heart. But despite the laughter and glittery neon lights surrounding us, I can’t shake off the lingering thoughts of Foster and his unexpected words. ‘Things could be so differentthistime around.’ Does this mean he wants to try again?

‘You know,’ Phil says, leaning in closer, his voice softening, ‘maybe this is fate giving you a second chance. Foster’s back in town, and he’s laying it all out there. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? For him to at least try?’

‘Five years ago, yes. That’s exactly what I wanted.’

‘Oh,’ he says, his eyes moving to the front door.

I look over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of movement by the entrance – what he’s looking at. Genevieve is walking in, spotting us immediately and waving. Then my heart stutters in my chest when I see Foster following her. A hesitant smile plays on his lips as he scans the bar, his good hand shoved into his jean pocket. Our eyes meet, and for a moment, it feels like time stands still as everything else fades away.

‘She’s betrayed you and brought him. How can we talk about him now?’

I let out a nervous chuckle, trying to play off the tension in the air. ‘I don’t know?’

‘Well, get ready, because I feel like we’re about to find out,’ Phil replies, his eyes flickering between me and our unexpected guests.

Genevieve and Foster breeze over to the bar, their presence filling our small corner. My heart races as I try to compose myself, taking a deep breath before forcing a smile onto my face.

‘Mind if we join you?’ Genevieve greets us warmly, her gaze sweeping over us as if assessing the atmosphere.

Phil pats the stool next to him, which Gen beelines to, leaving the only empty one to my right. Foster gingerly takes the seat.

‘Jellybean,’ he says with that charming smile that sends a familiar flutter through my chest.

He looks breathtakingly handsome as always, his dark curly hair slightly tousled in a way that makes my heart skip a beat.

‘Candy Corn.’ I acknowledge him with an equally ridiculous nickname, keeping my tone neutral despite the chaos of emotions swirling inside me. My phone chimes on the bar so I glance down at the illuminated screen.

Genevieve

Sorry, I thought I was picking you up and accidentally invited him!

Dang it, Gen. Why didn’t she send me a warning text beforehand? I take a long sip of my drink while the screen dims to black.

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