Page 7 of Return Policy

“Thanks.” His warm, rough palm cradles my face, and I want to lean into it. I force myself to stay stone still instead. “Today was… hard. I kept thinking how Chloe never got to graduate—or go to college—or have any of the firsts I’m about to…” I continue picking off what’s left of my nail polish and exhale heavily.

“Keep going,” he says gently, rubbing his thumb across my cheek before pulling away.

“I didn’t really understand before…”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t realize the things she missed out on because of her death. I only thought about the things she’d already done. She was in her senior year of high school when she passed and now that I’ve graduated… I’m about to experience all the things she never had the chance to. I think I feel…” My mind searches for the right word. “Guilty?”

“Sunflower,” he says low and gravelly as my stomach swirls at the nickname. “Don’t feel guilty for being alive. I didn’t know your sister, but I’m sure she’d want you to experience every single thing she couldn't and more.”

His piercing blue eyes slice right through me, causing the air in my lungs to dissipate before I regain my composure. “It’s been over eight years.” I gnaw on my lower lip without breaking eye contact. “I should be over it… I guess I just get emotional sometimes. Maybe it’s the whiskey.” I huff out a breath, looking away. “This shit must be truth serum. I don’t even know you, and I’m verbal diarrhea’ing my entire depressing life story.”

After unscrewing the metal top, I take another long swig of the strong liquid, allowing it to burn me from the inside out. I hold out the flask, and he grabs it, taking a swig too.

“Don't ever feel like you need to get over losing someone you love,” he says, looking out at the stream before brushing something off his face. “No matter how they left or how long it’s been, it’s okay it still hurts. Eventually, the pain will go away.” I take another pull from the flask, allowing the buzz to sink in as the truth of his words squeezes at my heart. “Damn, a girl that downs whiskey without flinching? That’s hard to find.”

“Been sneaking sips of Dad’s hundred proof since I was fifteen.” I down another swig while winking at him, and his dimples deepen.

“Naughty girl.” He releases a breathy laugh. “Congratulations, by the way.”

“For?”

“Graduating,” he says pointedly.

“Oh… Thanks.”

“How was the ceremony?”

“Long… hot as fuck… boring.” I roll my eyes. “The usual.”

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

Another sip of the whiskey causes me to lose the last of my filter. “I didn’t invite my mom.”

He tilts his head. “I feel like there’s more to unpack there.”

“A few months before Chloe died, my mom abandoned my family, ended up in jail, and never came back home.”If she hadn't left us, maybe Chloe would still be alive.I shake my head, chest tightening at the unfair thought. “She’s been trying extra hard to have a relationship with me, but I just don’t know if I can ever forgive her.” I take a deep breath. “I didn’t invite her because she didn’t deserve to be there, sitting in the crowd with all the proud parents, acting like she had anything to do with my accomplishments. Like she deserves to be proud of me. Only my dad can feel that way… He’s the one who’s always there.” I look down at my hands, feeling stupid for blurting so much unrequested information out, but it’s been bubbling under the surface since breakfast. “Sorry, that was a lot of background info you didn’t ask for.”

He reaches out, placing his finger gently under my chin, nudging me to meet his glacier eyes. My breath catches as they bore into mine, the space around us entirely devoid of oxygen. I’ve landed on another planet where our atmosphere no longer exists. “Stop apologizing for talking about the things that eat at you. It’s okay to open up.” He drops his hand, and I immediately miss the contact. “It’s okay to be vulnerable.”

I look down at my feet. “I’m pretty good at being open…” My hesitant eyes wander back to his. “But I’m not very good at being vulnerable.”

2

ELIJAH

I have no clue how my day went from “bonding” with my sperm donor to having a therapy session with the most mesmerizing girl I’ve ever met, but I’m definitely not complaining.

From what she’s told me, her life’s just as fucked up as mine. Maybe more so. And what do they say? Broken knows broken?

She looked adorable, claiming she already knew everything about me, so I just shut my mouth, smiled, and played along.Although she wasn’t wrong about all of it.

The sun has set, and it’s getting darker by the minute. We probably shouldn’t stay out here much longer, but I’m afraid I’ve imagined this entire encounter and as soon as we leave, I’ll never see her again. I’m not sure why that bothers me, but it does.

I’m not the guy who commits.

I’m a fun fuck and awon’tcall you tomorrow.

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