Page 69 of The Truth About Love

“You can still go to work. There’ll be nurses with her when you’re not and I think it’s a good idea if Summer volunteers at an animal shelter during the week or something. She’s been living off her trust fund since she lost her job last year, so it’ll do her some good to get out and do something.”

“And my apartment?”

“I’ll pay whatever’s left on your lease.”

“You’ve really got it all figured out, haven’t you?”

She scoffs. “Told you, you’re my last resort.”

The despair in her voice punctures my heart like a dart. And I get it, her hopelessness. She really must have exhausted all of her options if she’s asking me to move in with my ex-girlfriend, whom I haven’t seen for five years, in order to make sure she doesn’t hurt herself again.

But would I really be able to move past the pain and heartbreak Summer-Raine put me through all that time ago and look after her without those memories tainting the way I act towards her? Would I be able to forgive her enough to do this?

I don’t know.

“And she knows you’re asking me this?” I ask.

Winter’s silence tells me all I need to know.

“She doesn’t know, does she?”

“Not exactly.”

“How do you think she’d react if I turned up on her doorstep ready to move into her apartment for the next however long? Winter, she’d lose her shit. You know she would. She broke up with me, for fuck’s sake. She hates me. I’m literally the last person in the world she’d ever want to do this for her.”

Winter releases a resigned sigh. “You don’t know how wrong you are, Auden.”

I snort indignantly, but say nothing.

“Look,” she says. “We both know that you’re going to do it and it’s late and I’m tired, so let’s stop pretending like you’re not.”

“I’m not pretending. I can’t?”

“You can and you will. You’ve called me every month for five years, sometimes more than that, to ask how she’s doing. You might be lying to yourself and everyone else, but you’re just as in love with her now as you were when you were both eighteen, so let’s just cut the bullshit, okay? She needs help and you’re going to give it to her. You know you are.”

Shit.

She’s right.

I know she’s right.

Maybe not about me still being in love with Summer-Raine, because I’m not, of course I’m not, but about me helping her. Because the truth is, there isn’t a universe in existence in which I wouldn’t help Summer-Raine if she needed it. And Winter knows it. It’s why she asked, because she knew I’d end up saying yes.

My heart somersaults at the thought of seeing Summer-Raine again. I wonder if her hair is still as golden as it was when we were young, if her eyes are still the same extraordinary shade of green as they were in Islamorada.

It’s killed me, all these years, knowing that we live in the same city. That she could be just around the block from me at any time and I wouldn’t know. I’ve spent hours upon hours staring out the vast windows at the office, wondering where in the city she is and what she’s doing. I’ve even strained my eyes to try and see if I could spot her.

But not once in the time I’ve lived in Tallahassee have I seen her.

And now I will.

“When?” is all I ask.

“Saturday.”

“That’s three days away.”

“I know.”

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