Page 97 of I Saw Her First

“Hi, guys,” I whisper, gathering their smiling faces in my hands, but I’m not talking to the flowers, I’m talking to the Walkers, and I swear, on the whisper of the wind, I hear them say hello back.

My eyes well with tears as I press my nose into the flowers, wishing with all my heart that I could see Beth and Willow and Sebastian again. That they were here to help me figure this whole mess out, to encourage me to keep going.

Keep going.

The words ring through my head, as if someone else has said them. As if Willow herself is kneeling beside me, her curls sneaking out from her colorful headscarf as she smiles, telling me to keep going.

Keep going.

I dash my hand across my cheek, letting myself believe it’s her. Letting myself believe that’s what she’d say.

Because it is, isn’t it? She’d tell me that I’ve come so far, that I can’t possibly give up now. She’d tell me that she’s always believed in me, that she’s proud of me, that I deserve all the good things in my life.

And I would believe her.

Idobelieve her.

I tug a daisy from the soil and rise to my feet, clasping it in my hands. It reminds me of the meadow at Sullivan’s Cove, the first time I picked up that camera and raised it to my eye, and how damn right it felt. I think of how proud Weston was to see me shoot again, and resolve hardens my spine.

I’m not giving up.

Picking up my coffee mug, I head back into the house. Then I go up to my room—to what was once my room, but is now no more than a guest room—and grab my things. I dash off a quick note to my parents to say goodbye, letting myself cry as I do, because this time it really is goodbye. There is nothing for me here, with them, and I know for certain that moving on is the right thing for me.

I need to go back to the city. Back to my life. I’m not sure what will happen with Weston, but I owe it to him to keep shooting.

And I owe it to us to try to fix things.

39

Weston

Ipace the lobby of the Midtown building, raking a hand through my hair.

It’s been almost a week since Daisy left, telling me we needed time apart so I could focus on Jess. A week of me calling him and trying to track him down, so we can talk it through like adults.

So I can get Daisy back with me, back where she belongs.

But either Jess has his phone off, or has my number blocked, and I can’t blame him. I got so angry with the way he attacked me when we walked through the door. Daisy and I had just had such a wonderful weekend together, and it was a reality check that took me by surprise. I was angry with Jess, as I have been for a long time, but I was also angry at the universe for putting me in such an unreasonable position. For giving me a woman to love, at the cost of my son. And in that moment, I let all that rage pour out onto Jess.

But now that I’ve had time alone to reflect, time to toss and turn, miserably missing Daisy, I realize that wasn’t fair. He’d obviously suspected something was going on with us, becausehe’d pried open the lock on the darkroom. Either that or he’d gotten curious, and then discovered the photos.

Either way, I can’t begin to imagine the horror he must have felt at finding them. The betrayal at seeing Daisy withme, of all people.

I really liked her… She’s so great, and I messed it all up.

His words have played through my head on a loop, torturing me. Why didn’t I just tell him? Why didn’t I come clean then and there, and tell him that something had developed between us? I was so shocked to see him when he came to my office that day, let alone have him talk to me, and I was terrified if I told him the truth, he’d turn around and never speak to me again.

Turns out that was bound to happen either way, wasn’t it?

I shake my head, trying to focus. That’s what happened, and I can’t change it. All I can do now is find a way to repair the damage.

Properly, this time.

The elevator doors ping open and a group of men in suits flood out into the lobby. I spot a flash of auburn hair and step forward. This is nothing like I expected, if I’m honest. I did a little research on LinkedIn and found out where Rex works, knowing that if I couldn’t track Jess down myself, he could help. Not exactly my first choice, but I’m out of options.

Still, I never expected the weed-smoking, video-game playing friend of my son to be at a midtown office building in a neat suit. I half expected he’d be working at a Chipotle or something, up to his elbows in guacamole. When I followed the address to this building, part of me wondered if it was a joke.

But here he is, crossing the lobby, heading home for the day.

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