Page 41 of The Things That Hold Us

“Ok, well I don't need to know, nor do I want to find out what that reasoning might be. I told him all I can give him is friendship, and he’s ok with that.”

“But areyouok with that?”

I stare at her, a million thoughts running through my head.

I want to say,No, I’m not ok. I want to feel his lips on mine.

But instead, I say, “I have to be.”

Silence stretches between us, and I know she’s waiting for me to confide in her, or add more, or spill my feelings about Logan, but I’m not going to. If I voice how Logan makes me feel, it’s just going to make it hardernotto feel.

Finally, she says, “Well, from what I saw, he looks like a nice man.”

“He is a nice man, mom.”

Which is what makes all of this even more difficult.

“Rise and shine bitches!” Cassie yells from the hallway before barging into my room.

Her room.

“We're awake, Cass.” I groan, while covering my ears. Too much loudness this early in the morning.

“Ok well mom has her flight today at 2, and I have to be at the cafe in an hour, so we probably need to get out of bed.” she says.

But before I can say anything, I hear groaning coming from her room.

My mom and I both turn and look at each other, then back at Cassie.

“Cassie, is there a man in your bed?” I ask her.

“Maybe.” she says, and shrugs her shoulders.

“Then why are you in here with us?” my mom says.

“Oh. I can't go anymore. I got maybe an hour of sleep last night, and my downstairs area needs a rest. Plus, like I said, I have to be at work in an hour so we gotta get ready.”

My mom starts laughing, which makes me laugh, and makes Cassie roll her eyes and shut the door.

“20 minutes!” She yells.

And we both take that as our cue to get up and shower.

A hot shower, and clean clothes were all I needed to make me feel like a refreshed human.

Mom’s flight is in roughly 50 minutes, so I order us a taxi, and help her get all of her things together. I feel like she came with so little, but is leaving with a whole extra bag.

Typical.

As I’m shoving her clothes into a suitcase, she walks over to me and sets a hand on mine, stopping me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, concerned now because she looks like a mix between sad and happy.

“I wanted to wait to give you your present until there weren't a bunch of people, but I never got the chance last night, so,” she reaches into her purse, and pulls out a small box that's wrapped in maroon wrapping paper.

“Here.”

I look up at her and smile as I take it from her.

---