Page 48 of Meet Me in the Valley
“Are you sure you want to do this alone?”
Yes. Maybe? I don’t know.
When I take too long to answer, Audrey thins her lips, slamming her palms on the table.
“Alright. That’s it. I’m coming with you.”
“Audrey. No. You have a new business to run, a fiancé who needs you—plus, I don’t even know when I’ll come back. It’s a one-way ticket, remember?”
She gives me a hard stare, her poor form of intimidation.
“Fine. Then have Logan go.”
My heart leaps, then falls, hitting the ground hard at the sound of his name.
“No.” I take a sip of my latte, humming as the hot liquid warms my belly. She looks at me with concern, but doesn’t treat me with kid gloves. She knows I say what I mean and I mean what I say.
Except when it came down to meaning what you say to the man who deserved the truth, you didn’t. You lied.
If I could slap my inner voice, I would. Ever since I left Logan at the airport, I haven’t been able to take a full breath. It’s like hetook part of my oxygen away, storing it in a special case until I see him again. God, it hurts to breathe without him near.
We’ve barely spoken in days, a few dry text exchanges here and there, and I’m feeling the distance between us more than ever. That’s my fault, I admit. I denied him for self preservation. To protectus. So why is the weight of my deception so heavy? Telling him the truth was probably the better option.
Too late.
I’ve made my bed, so time to lie in it.
I leave for Vegas tomorrow, thinking—hoping—I’d be strong enough to handle this. Being with Audrey has helped, though. The deep belly laughs and the ungodly amount of pinot grigio and popcorn we consumed over the last few days were exactly what I needed.
Sitting in the same booth we’ve occupied since high school, at our favorite coffee shop, nursing the same coffee orders helps dull the ache permeating in my chest. Me, a vanilla latte. Audrey, a caramel macchiato.
“Okay, well then, we need to unpack this.”
Oh, yippee.
The same night I dropped Logan off at the airport, Audrey and I were a bottle of wine down while sobbing watching The Notebook. Out of all the movies, we had to torture ourselves and watch that one.
I blame it on the combination of wine, sappy love stories, and watching a movie that highlights Alzheimers, but I poured out every blocked-up emotion about Logan I’ve been feeling since everything shifted on a platter for Audrey to process.
Before she could open her mouth and reveal to me what I didn’t want to hear, I shut her down quickly, feigning a stomach ache and burying my head into my pillow. Thankfully, she didn’t fight me hard on it then.
Now it’s three days later, and Audrey stares at me with determination in her eyes, instantly backing me into a corner like I’m a wounded animal.
“Fine,” I grumble, slumping deeper into the pleather booth. It squeaks under my discomfort.
“You and I weren’t really in each other’s lives when Logan came into yours,” she starts, and there’s a hint of sadness in her expression. She blinks once, twice, three times, then a soft smile curves her lips. “More likeIwasn’t in your life. You tried, and I love you for it.”
My heart softens as I think back on the time when Audrey was living in New York with that horrible man for ten years. Having Logan during my time apart from Audrey eased the pain of missing her.
As much as it hurt me, she’s right. I did try to keep an open line of communication with her for years, only to be shut down. At the time, I didn’t understand why she was pushing me away, even avoiding me altogether. But, I didn’t give up on her. I knew deep down that Audrey would always be more than a best friend. She is my soulmate, through and through. Now that she’s made it out, I can see that she was just doing her best to survive.
With all of that drama behind us, I smile at my best friend and wait before I respond, watching her eyes close as she continues.
“I really saw it this past summer, you know? You and him? And then at our engagement party, the lake. Need I remind you of the bonfire?”
Everything she’s telling me rams into me with so much force. It’s impossible to ignore the wonderful, painful, and aching memories from this past weekend. My feelings unfurled, blooming into a dangerous temptation of wanting someone I shouldn’t.
I indulged, I savored, and I tested—knowing it would hurt.
