Page 53 of Conviction
No.
My breath and my words stick in my throat while my brain fights to process this news.
She’s married. To someone else.
“I’m in the process of getting a divorce but, yeah, technically, I’m still married.”
Yesssss.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Thank fuck!
Thank fucking fuck!
I actually have to mentally restrain myself from fist pumping the air above our heads.
“That’s… I’m sorry that you’re going through that.”
I’m lying.
Totally lying.
“It’s all good. He’s a dick. I never should’ve married him.”
Nope.
No, you shouldn’t.
I nod my head, agreeing with everything that she’s just said.
“Why are you nodding your head?” she asks.
Busted!
“I, I was just…”
“Con, are you trying not to smile?” she accuses.
“No, I, of course not…”
She leans back, taking in all of my face with those big blue eyes.
“Conner Reed, I’ve known you since I was five-years-old. I may not have been in your life for the last fifteen years, but I still remember how the corner of your lips twitch when you’re trying not to smile, and I remember how you could never look me in the eye when you lie.”
She remembers all of that about me? All these years and she still remembers. I don’t know why, but I can’t think of a single word to say. The fact that she knows me so well and still remembers those small details, it’s fucking with my brain’s ability to think straight.
We sit in silence for a few seconds. Both of us trying to wrap our heads around the fact that we’re here, together. The revelations, the unanswered questions. There’s just so much to take in.
Her tongue flicks out and swipes across her bottom lip before she sucks it in and drags her teeth over it.
“Meebs,” I close my eyes as I say her name. “Fuck, baby girl. I just, I can’t even. Can you believe this? That we’re really here, together like this?”
She gives her head a small shake and smiles. “Did you ever…” she cuts off and looks down at her fingers, which are laced together in her lap.
“Did you ever think about me, Con? Once the band made it big. Did I ever cross your mind?”
I close my eyes, and for the first time ever, I willingly allow the pain I’ve held down for so very long to wash over me. I don’t fight it. I let my heart beat free of the fist that’s gripped it for so long. I exhale that very last bit of air from my lungs, the one that I’ve always held on to, afraid, that if I were to let it out, all the hurt would escape with it. I feel a spike of adrenaline course through my veins and the beginnings of a panic attack. I rake both of my hands through my hair and take in a deep breath, before opening my eyes and looking at her.
