Page 69 of The Edge of Summer
While I wait for her, I take the opportunity to look at my phone. I noticed a few texts roll in earlier, but the day has been an utter shitshow, so I haven’t had a spare moment to look. I have one message from Clara and another two from my mom. The others are all from Delilah.
Shutterbug
So you probably don’t care but I took my camera out this morning.
[photo attachment]
It felt weird, but good.
The rest of the messages came in a couple hours later.
Shutterbug
Wow, it’s that bad huh? I know I’m rusty but damn. You can be honest. I’ll only be a little offended.
It’s raining pretty hard out there... I hope you don’t get too many calls.
Luke?
I’m sorry. Ignore me. You’re probably really busy.
The rain is getting really bad. Clara said she hasn’t heard from you…
After that, she called me twice. My stomach drops. I hear the door to my office open and then Delilah slips in. Her clothes are soaked through from the rain. Even from here, I can see the goosebumps prickling her skin from the chill of the air conditioning.
“What the hell? You’re freezing,” I say.
She doesn’t respond, but her teeth begin to chatter. Rounding my desk, I take a hoodie off the hook on the wall and slip it over her head. She slides her armsthrough and I adjust the hem. It’s long on her, hitting the tops of her thighs, but it looks damn good.
“Not that I’m disappointed to see you, but what are you doing here?” I ask. “And why are you soaked?”
Her head hangs as she tries to avoid my gaze. “I, um, walked here. In the rain.”
“Delilah?” When she looks up, there are tears glistening in her eyes. I tense. “What’s going on?”
She wipes under her eye, catching a tear that hasn’t yet fallen. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m fine.You’refine.”
Funnily enough, I don’t believe her. I bury my hand in her hair, feeling the raindrops that cling to the strands, and pull her closer. Seeing her upset kills me. What’s worse is I know she’s trying to hold all this in.
“Tell me anyway.”
“I—” She looks away, her cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment. “I know it’s stupid, but it’s raining a lot and you weren’t answering the phone. My mind just started going to the worst places and I couldn’t stop thinking…”
The reminder of the accident that caused her parents’ deaths hits me—hard. She never told me the gory details, but when she told me about the accident, it triggered a memory. A quick search of her last name online brought up the articles I remembered seeing last year when news of Premier Adrien Delacroix’s death was sweeping the country.
Her parents were out driving when the rain turned dangerously torrential. They hydroplaned and hit a guardrail. Dead on arrival.
“Baby, that’s not stupid,” I say. “Shit, Delilah, I’m sorry.”
“No,I’msorry. I shouldn’t have come.” She shakes herhead, trying to pull away from me. “I know that’s not what this is.”
My brows furrow as I draw her in closer. She’s still upset and idiotically, all I want to do is hold her. Comfort her. “What do you mean?”
“This relationship.” She places a hand on my chest, trying to push back. I don’t let her. “We don’t worry about each other like that.”
That blow lands like a swift uppercut to the jaw. Because it’s not true. No matter how much I tried. No matter how much I wish I didn’t, I can’t help myself. “Shutterbug, I worry about you all the time.”
Her eyes widen. “You do?”
