Page 104 of Courageous Hearts

I’m not sure I believe people are meant to go through terrible things. That there’s some divine plan guiding us. But maybe we do the best with what we’re given. Humans are nothing if not perseverant. My experiences have shaped me. And, at the end of the day, I love who I am now.

I’ve found people who love me for who I am, too.

“And you?” Dee asks, prodding my thigh. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, although exhaustion is still riding me hard. I haven’t quite gotten over the utter misery I felt yesterday when I thought Jameson was hiding our relationship.

But then, after I finally worked up the nerve to confront him and found out there was nothing to be worried about in the first place…

“What’s that little smile for?” Dee asks.

“Uh, Jameson loves me,” I voice, my heart skipping in happiness. It’s been doing that a lot today, every time I remember.

“Well, of course he does,” my friend says as if it’s the most obvious thing.

I huff a laugh.

“And you love him, too,” she adds softly.

“Yeah,” I breathe out. “I do.”

A smile breaks over her face before it flickers into something a little sadder. “You’re not coming back here, are you?”

I take a deep breath and expel it slowly. “I don’t think so.”

Dee nods, leaning forward to clasp my arm. “The last four years with you have been a privilege. I’m so glad to have met you, Bo.”

“God, Dee,” I say, swiping at my eye. “It’s not like we’ll never see each other. We’ll still work together. We can still hang out.”

“But it won’t be the same,” she says simply. “And that’s okay. It’s good. I’m so happy for you. You deserve this. You deserve to be loved by a wonderful person.”

I nod, throat tight. “I’m gonna grab some more of my things before I go. He hasn’t officially asked me to move in yet, but if he does, I’ll, uh, come back for the rest.”

“He will,” Dee says confidently before standing up. “Come on, doll. Let’s get you sorted.”

Dee and I head to the bedroom, where she helps me pack up the remainder of my clothes. I don’t even blush when we get to my extensive collection of lace underwear. It’s not long before I’m zipping up my backpack, ready to go.

“Will you be okay here?” I ask, looking around this room we’ve shared for so very long. It feels a little emptier than it ever used to, even though it looks almost exactly the same. Maybe that’s because I’ve become so accustomed to Jameson’s place. It feels like him, that house. Feels like home.

“Yeah,” Dee answers, running her hand along the top of my empty dresser. “You know what? Bridget said something about looking for a new apartment the other day. I think everything will work out just fine.”

I nod, hefting my backpack onto my shoulder.

“Thank you, Dee,” I say quietly, not even sure exactly what it is I’m thanking her for. For all of her kind words over the years? For being a good friend? For playing a part in me becoming the person I am today? Maybe all of it. Voice rough, I tell her, “I should get goin’. Keep me in the loop?”

“Ditto,” Dee replies softly.

I’m halfway to the door when my friend halts me, swinging me into a hug. I squeeze her back tight, a boulder lodged deep in my throat.

Maybe this isn’t a goodbye, but it’s a parting nonetheless. The end of an era. The start of something new.

My eyes are a little wet when the pair of us break apart, and they stay that way as I jog down the three flights of stairs to the street level below. The smell of fresh bagels smacks me in the face as I step out the door, and knowing I may not be back here for some time, I swing inside my favorite shop in Wicker Park for a sea salt bagel.

With a reminder of Jameson on my tongue, I head home.

“Okay, blue or silver for my Les Mis performance tonight?” Bridget asks.

Ishani and I share a look before declaring, “Blue.”

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