Page 161 of Overdue I Love You's
Their gasps are in sync. Nadine kicks my lower back.
“Ouch,” I glare. “What is wrong with?—”
“He loves you,” she smiles with all teeth. She looks likeChuckyright now.
“I know that already, you don’t?—”
Rosa smacks the back of my head, forcing me to look at the notes. “No, you idiot. Helovesyou.”
I follow their sight and my heart stammers.
Nerium. Orange Blossom. Violets. Anemones.
Dean’s tattoos spell out my name.
I have a lot of core memories. My grade eight graduation when I took my heels off and ran to the buffet barefoot, the morning I got my first period and laughed hysterically, when I left a secret admirer letter on my crush’s desk. But none of them hit me like this.
It’s bright. Blindingly so. It doesn’t walk around the shelves full of core memories to find an empty slot, it walks past each, barely glancing at them when it reaches the place full of emotions and carves a new one out of love, replacing it with its subtle light by spelling out Dean’s name in big bold letters.
I don’t have anything to say, but everything tofeel. I have questions, lots of them.
“Still not caving in?” Rosa teases by nudging her shoulder with mine.
“Uh guys,” we snap out of staring in awe and look up at Nadine. She’s reading a message off her phone. “Ms. Cartwright found out about the will. A trial date is set for Friday.”
“But it’s Wednesday,” I’m on my feet, staring at the message. It’s from her lawyer.
“We don’t know if the will is valid yet,” Rosa joins on the other side.
“She knows that. She’s trying to beat us before we can provide evidence.”
“No court gives dates that early,” I say, trying to convince them that we can change it.
“They do on Prince Edward Island.”
This island loves gossip and wherever the Rivera’s are?Drama follows.
The next two days go by in a flash. Nadine’s nowhere to be seen, preparing endlessly for the trial. Mr. Cartwright’s lawyer still hasn’t gotten back to us and it’s unbelievably terrifying how my heart feels like it might need a transplant after today.
The house is dark and everyone’s still asleep. Yesterday, Austin posted an apology on social media about deceiving the public about me and Dean. His comments were full of hate and people throwing tomatoes. The production chat messaged that all contestants will be compensated for their time, which brings a bit of hope. Because then I’ll have a bit of money and can hopefully make 15k by the end of theyear. Whatever happens, it'll work out.
I’m watching the sun rise, illuminating the sky with orange and pink.
“You’re up early,” the deep timbre of syllables causes an internal tumble.
His reflection greets me in the window. Warmth floats around me, then freezes when I catch the bag hitched over his shoulder.
Whipping my head around, “You’re leaving?”
Dean grips the bag tighter, knuckles whitening. “Something came up.”
“I’m on trial today.”Don’t leave me.
“You’ll be great,” he says with intense warranty.
We stare until a blink breaks us apart. “Will you be back?” I ask in the quiet air.
His Adam's apple bobs, telling me what he can’t.
