Page 52 of Love Redesigned
“Why didn’t you?” Dani asked. There was an edge of defensiveness to her tone, but this time, I didn’t think her malice had anything to do with the hurt I’d causedher.She really was just thinking about her friends, which somehow made the guilt feel even heavier.
“I don’t know. It felt easier at the time. They still hadyou. And I knew they’d listen to your side of the story. I guess I felt like you deserved to keep them as friends more than I did. And I didn’t want them to have to choose sides.”
“But they cared about you, too. You literally just vanished. I mean, you and Darius used to text all the time.”
“I know. You’re right,” I said. “I should have done better.”
She shrugged. “It’s not too late. I think they’d all be happy to hear from you.” She hesitated. “Maybe not Paige. She’s still pretty heavily ‘Team Dani’ at this point. But the others? You should reach out.”
The idea of reconnecting with pieces of my New York life was surprisingly welcome. Intimidating as hell, but not impossible. The past year hadn’t exactly been easy; I’d covered everything from anger to self-pity to quiet introspection and had only recently started to feel like I had a reasonable hold on my emotions. Realizing I felt ready to reach out to any part of my former life felt like no small victory. “You don’t think it would be weird? For you, I mean?”
She rolled her eyes. “Weirder than living in my brother’s studio while my ex-boyfriend lives with him in the big house and works as his business manager? We’re so far into weird territory, I think I can handle sharing friends.”
I chuckled softly. “Thank you for saying so. I do miss everyone.”
“Then reach out,” she said. “I think it’s a good idea. And you can tell them all I said so.”
“Thanks, Dani,” I said. “I mean it.”
I had so many questions. Why had she left? What had happened at work? But the peace between us felt so fragile, I couldn’t risk ruining it.
She offered a small smile. “So how are things with the Compassion Experiment? Is it all coming together like you hoped?”
“I think so,” I said. “The event planner is making it pretty easy, though I do feel like I’m constantly fielding phone calls, answering one question or another. But it’s pulling together. The biggest challenge we face is finding a closing act.”
“Did you ever hear from Red Renegade? Didn’t you tell me you reached out to their agent?”
I nodded. “I never heard from them. I think Isaac has accepted it was never going to happen, but he still wants something musical; I’m not sure who he thinks we’ll be able to book only two months out.”
“Did you text Darius? I’m sure he’d reach out to his uncle for you.”
I looked at my hands. I’d thought about texting Darius. Multiple times. “I...no.”
Her face softened. “You didn’t think you could.”
“It felt wrong to text him for something I needed when Ihaven’tfor anything else. I didn’t even text him on his birthday.”
“Chase took good care of him on his birthday. I promise.”
“Still.”
“Maybe I can try,” Dani said. “I’ll text Darius and ask him.”
I held her gaze. “You’d do that?”
“I mean, I don’t expect it to work, but sure. Darius will be straight with us about whether or not he thinks it’s an option. I don’t know. It can’t hurt, right?”
“If you wouldn’t mind trying, that would be amazing.” I stood there, in between her and the door, wondering if there was anything else I should say.
She leaned her head back against the cushions and closed her eyes. She lookedsad.Broken.
I hadn’t heard everything she’d said to Isaac about why she was in Charleston. I really had tried to give them their privacy. But she was here. With suitcases. And Isaac had said she was down on her luck which could only mean one thing.
I took a step forward and lowered myself down beside her. “Dani, do you want to talk about what happened? I know I’m probably not your first choice, but I’m happy to listen if you need it.”
She opened her eyes. “I probablyshouldtalk about it.” She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. “But honestly...”
“You don’t want to talk about it withme?”
