Page 43 of Choosing Forever
That’s the last thing I want. Still, I nod. “Okay. Whatever you want.”
“Bye, Darren.”
She spins and walks off as a cruel sense of déjà vu washes over me. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard those words, afraid they’d be the last she’d say to me. The only difference is this time, I’m dead set on there being a different outcome than all those times before.
Goodbye for now, not forever.
14
LAST YEAR
DELANEY
Daisy and Bryceasked me to be here. Daisy and Bryce asked me to be here. Daisy and Bryce asked me to be here.
They’re my friends, and friends don’t ditch on important celebrations because the atmosphere is uncomfortable. I need to suck it up before I make tonight awkward. Who cares if everyone is looking at me and wondering why on earth I’m here. They can eat shit if they think I shouldn’t be here to celebrate a friend’s accomplishment.
Oof. Okay, so I’m clearly feeling a bit stabby tonight.
At least Brody’s singing is enough to hide the harrowing silence that’s followed my every move. If I had to walk past one more group of people who stopped talking the moment they sensed me, I’d have impaled someone’s arm with an inky tattoo needle. It’s better with something in the background, even if it’s the same country song that I’ve heard playing a million times on the local radio station.
Leaning against the furthest wall from the busier half of the shop, I watch as Bryce finishes up what must be her tenth flash tattoo. The recipient of the frog wearing a matching rain bootand jacket set grins down at her wrist and thanks Bryce before hopping out of the chair.
I’ve never gotten a tattoo. Not during a drunken night out in college or amid a complete breakdown. There’s nothing I want permanently inked on my body yet. Bryce is the opposite and has more colour on her skin than anyone else I’ve ever known. Every day I see her, I think she’s gotten something new done. She’s halfway through her second sleeve now and has added a daisy to the patch of skin behind her ear.
“Stay out of the sun for a few days and wash it with soap when you shower. Lotion up after,” she instructs while snapping her black gloves off.
“Got it! Thanks, Bryce.”
The dark-haired ice queen gives a shrug of acknowledgement before falling into her cleaning of the station she’s at. I move my attention to the opposite side of the shop, where Shade, the huge, burly owner of this shop, is wearing a heavy black hoodie and jeans to match and flirting with a woman who is at least double his age, if I remember her correctly.
We’re not in Cherry Peak, but everyone at the shop tonight ventured from that direction. Oak Point is a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it little town nestled up against the Rocky Mountains with a population half the size of CP. I’d move here myself if I could fool myself into believing that the incredible view would be worth the aches and pains of small-town living that I’ve already dealt with for decades.
Shade shakes out his thick back hair before dragging his tattooed fingers through it and glancing in my general vicinity. The music that’s been filling the studio comes to an end as my stomach sinks. Shade winks and grins wide enough for a dimple to appear.
“Little Devil!” he calls out, eyes bright. “You look hot.”
“Don’t flirt with my girlfriend,” Bryce groans.
I blink, settling when Daisy floats by me, her dress flying uparound her knees. She wiggles her finger at him. “You’re going to get kicked in the nuts, Shade.”
“Worth it.”
My friend gets swallowed in his arms and, like the hugger she is, squeezes him tight enough to make him wince. “We’ll see about that.”
They jump into conversation as I dart my eyes elsewhere and hold in a sigh. I’m being a buzzkill. I’m shocked Poppy hasn’t already come to find me with one of the Jell-O shots we made last night in her hands. I’ve seen more of her in the last few months than in the last seven years.
Losing my grandmother has only just started getting easier to accept. I still hear her voice calling from upstairs, asking me to watch every new episode of her favourite telenovela and feel the ghost of her hands on my cheeks. Her presence is heavy at home, and maybe that’s why I’ve spent so many nights at Bryce and Daisy’s.
I’m hiding from the reality of what’s happened and the loneliness that hangs around me, growing thicker every day.
The air shifts, that fog thinning enough for me to see the tall figure cutting through it. Pain expands in my chest as my ribs constrict. Darren got here before I did, but I’ve managed to avoid him the way I always do.
While that means I haven’t gaped at him all night or followed him through the crowds, I still felt it every time he’s looked my way. Even a simple, fleeting glance sent prickles up and down my spine.
He wasn’t supposed to come to see me, though. Communication between us is rightly non-existent. That’s the way I needed it to be.
So why is he still walking my way and not turning somewhere—anywhere—else?
