Page 145 of Overdue I Love You's
There’s another picture of us down at the lake before his shirt comes off. We’re standing a good distance away from each other, but my body language is standoff-ish. More random pictures come onto the post, but I can’t help myself.
I swipe back to watch the video once more.
There’s a moment where the camera faces the ground.
Brown loafers with dark green laces.
Austin.
My heart has a panic attack.
Not sure if it’s a panic attack or confusion on crack. I read the words over and over again until it becomes blurry. There’s a lump in my brain, something knocking against my skull to make sense of this.
I’m not good at math, never have been. But I do it quickly in my brain. Then I look at Dean, he’s not looking at me. He doesn’t know what’s going through my head right now. I have to focus, to really dig deep into the picture and see if the girl with short hair and bow really is me.
The memory cascades down. It’s been waiting for me to remember.
I’m the girl he’s talking about. The one who defended him, almost got kicked out for interrupting when I shouldn’t have. Eighteen—fresh out of Cornwall—me and my desire for justice. I remember the look on his face when he caught my smile. Shock. He couldn’t believe or let himself accept someone’s kindness. I didn’t know his name, no one did. They didn’t let his name be heard nor did they want him remembered when they took him away.
They succeeded because I forgot him.
I sent him one letter afterwards, something about hanging in there with a smiley face. I used up my last limited-edition stickers to decorate the page.
Dean is a collision of atoms I’m not worthy of holding in the palm of my hands.
How could I forget him?
“It was me,” I say quietly. “I’m the girl that gave you hope.”
Dean’s looking into the mini fridge when his back freezes. He doesn’t turn around, but he hears me like I whispered intimately in his ear.
His no answer istheanswer. “Look at this,” I throw the phone towards the end of the bed and dig myself up against the headrest. He takes the phone, not once looking at me. His eyes skimming over the words. Thumbs zooming into the pictures.
He tucks his bottom lip inside his mouth, swipes again and again until his very breath falls flat on the ground. “I wanted to tell you,” he murmurs hoarsely.
“I should’ve remembered,” I admit quietly. Whatever he hears in my voice causes him to come to me.
“No, Nova. I didn’t expect you to remember. It was a long time ago.” He reaches out to touch me then pulls away.
“I remember it now,” I look at him. Green is only a suggestion, swallowed by a black hole. “That day. The trial. All of it. That’s why you backed away from me when I told your brother I want ex-convicts to stay away from me. I forced you away.” I bring my legs up to my chest. “You tried to come closer to me, I see it now. You were trying this whole time and I ruined it.”
“You didn’t mean it then, you told me.” He sits near my feet. “What’s done is done. I’m here now. With you. Nothing will pull meaway.”
“If I said leave, would you?”
His face breaks, but he doesn’t answer. We both know he would.
“Exactly,” a tear slips down my cheek. “You’re a good man, Dean. The greatest. You’re the type to walk away if it’ll make someone happy and you technically did. You didn’t come here for me, you came here for yourself. For the first time, you choseyou.” He reels back from that. It never crossed his mind that being on a dating show would be for himself and not for some woman who doesn’t know what to do with money.
Yes, it started with me. But it ends with him.
“I’m the reason you lost the trial, Dean.” My big, stupid mouth. “six out of ten people voted you innocent. The judge hated me and went against it.”
Dean’s jaw tightens. “The judge’s decision hadnothingto do with you.”
“You weren’t at fault,” I let my legs fall and move so I’m pasted against him. “You were defending yourself.”
“Ikilled him, Nova.” It rumbles through us, low and final. I don’t know where we start or end, just that weare.
