Page 20 of Go Find Less

“Got it.” I touch the edge of the notecard, my eyes following the jagged cursive of Fitz’s writing. “I don’t know about cracking. I think I made him feel bad.”

“Good!” Carla humphs. “Douche sat by while Andy beat on you and Vic.”

“That’s what I said.”

“And what did he say?” Kyle asks, and they both look at me. I hold my hands up, feeling cornered. I hadn’t told Carla the complete details of our conversation - part of me is still trying to figure out how the number of words Fitz has spoken to me in more than two decades basically tripled in a matter of minutes.

“I think this is his response.” I lift the card at the corner, and then turn around to look at Carla. “What the fuck do I do?”

“Well, what the fuck do youfeel?” Her question stumps me. Feel? What do I feel?

In the years since high school, I honestly haven’t given Fitz a passing thought until recently. He was so far off my radar, a blip in the memories I’d long since hoped to forget with each passing day and therapy visit.

But truth be told, even between the last two times I’d seen him, something had changed. Whatever he’d found, whatever he’d read, made him question me so personally - made him seem…interested? A way I don’t think I ever would have described him before. Sure, he was a man on a mission, running for class office and organizing committees, but interested in a person? On a human level? That required showing emotion, feelings, which, up until that day in the office with him, I have never really seen Fitz show, even in the years I saw him with Olivia.

My brain is flashing big, red warning lights, a “Do Not Enter” biohazard sign plastered across the thoughts like an impending zombie apocalypse.

“I don’t think you’re fragile.”

Had he seen me all those years ago? Did he see me now? Me, not the shell of good looks and a career in a tantalizing field that left most men panting?

And did I want him to see me? See me in a way that wasn’t more than the girl tasked with making things look pretty at this god-forsaken reunion that I don’t think either of us are looking forward to?

It’s a scary thought. Someone who knew me before the trauma that changed the course of my life, someone who had seen what I used to be, what I became in high school, and what I am now.

I’m reading too much into this.

I give a sideways glance at the bookshelf behind me, stuffed with stories of redeeming relationships and war-torn love. What I’d buried myself in for years, finding solace in fantasy worlds built with purpose, with meaning; with a clean wrap-up and often, a happy ending.

I sigh to myself. No, Fitz was just feeling guilty after I told my truth and he realized he was a part of it.

“I feel like I need to thank him and move on,” I reply finally, and Carla rolls her eyes before sitting back in her seat. From in front of Kyle, I pick up my phone, opening my text thread with just Fitz.

PIPER DELMONICO

I appreciate the gifts. You really didn’t have to. Thank you.

In only a few seconds, the dots indicating his typing pop up, and I suck in a breath. Kyle leans over again, and at this point, I don’t blame him for practically cuddling my shoulder.

FITZ WESTFALL

It’s the least I can do. I meant my apology. Hindsight is 20-20.

“What doesthatmean?” Carla asks, and I feel her cross her arms behind me.

“He’s got some serious regrets if he’s willing to say something like that.” Kyle blinks, leaning back in his chair and shaking his head.

“He regrets that it’s impacting my ability to help with the reunion,” I lie. Both of them give me pointed looks before Carla speaks.

“If you think that man gives a flying fuck about the reunion beyond his potential obligation as a class officer, I’m going to have to do a sobriety check.” I snort. “It’s been a decade. Did you ever stop to think that maybe he’s changed just as much as you have?”

Her words stop my racing brain. She’s right. Absolutely right. I’m not the same people-pleasing good girl I had been long before Andy and I got involved. I’m certainly not the wounded flower I’d turned into to hide the absolute shame I was feeling during my trauma.

So why have I, from the get go, assumed that Marble Man Fitz had changed just as little on the inside as he had on the outside?

Chapter 7

Fitz

---