Page 88 of Second Chance Vacation

“Yes, it is…well, I mean. I don’t know. It carries more weight now.”

Hannah looks at me, a perplexed expression leaving me wondering what she is thinking. She bites her lip, pulling it into her mouth before releasing it with a pop.

“—You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?!”

I don’t mean to yell, but it shoots right out of me as I jump up from the couch. Pacing back and forth, I avoid looking at Hannah. Despite this, she doesn’t say a word. Allowing me to take a moment, she just stares at me while I whirl around in chaos.

“Viv…”

My eyes dart to hers, a deer in headlights, as she pins me with a knowing expression.

“No…I don’t, I can’t.”

“Yes…you can, and I’m pretty sure we both know that you do.”

If I am in love with Jackson, then every attempt, every painstakingly hurtful decision I’ve made to keep him away from that part of me, has failed. I refuse to let the darkness that has bled into my heart impact him. I can’t do it.

“I can’t, Hannah. I just can’t.”

Turning away from her, I look out the window, watching a robin land on the tree just beyond the glass. What I would give to be able to live so carefree. They say the human experience is a blessing, to be able to feel so deeply, but I’m starting to believe it’s a curse.

“—Because of your mom?” Hannah says, her voice reserved but carrying from behind me regardless.

I can’t do this. I can’t fish through those thoughts today, let alone with Hannah Thatcher-Miles. Turning to look at her, I see the same scared expression gazing back at me, except unlike all those years ago, her fear appears to be for me.

When Jackson and I broke up, it hurt, but the breakup that happened between Hannah and me was so brutal it nearly killed me. Now, she’s standing in my apartment, eight years separating us, and all I want is my best friend back. I want to be able to go to her when things are hard and not have to wonder if she’s going to pick up her phone.

“Viv,” Hannah sighs, patting the couch next to her. I follow her insistence, leaning my body toward her. She places her hand on my knee with a squeeze. Without another word between us, I break, tears streaming down my face. Unsure of what I’m crying about, I can’t make it stop.

Am I crying about Jackson?

Is it about my mom?

Is it about Hannah?

Or is it about all of it?

I’m so sick of losing the people I love. I’m so sick of aching for unconditional love that I’ve never been able to accept. Hannah reaches toward me, pulling me into a hug. My sobs from before take on a life of their own, leaving her shirt drenched in my tears.

“I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine,” Hannah says as she lets out a sardonic laugh. “It’s just a shirt.”

“That’s not what I meant…”

“I know…”

We sit together on my couch, my face buried in the cotton of her shirt for what feels like forever. I finally muster up the courage to continue our conversation, sitting up to meet Hannah’s gaze.

“I’m sorry for dating Jackson.”

Hannah, immediately and without any clear mockery, bursts out laughing, struggling to rein herself in.

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

I just stare at her, completely shocked by her response.

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