Page 150 of Go Luck Yourself
I wipe the back of my hand across my chin and shake my head because if I answer that, it all falls apart.
If I’d been in the same situation, would I have lied to him, too? To keep pretending for a moment longer, a second longer, that I wouldn’t lose him? Yeah. I’d have lied. I’d have been selfish and a little cruel if it meant getting to have one more minute with him.
But I was wrong about something that should’ve been obvious.I should haveseenhis hesitation and read it for what it was, but I willfully ignored it. Like I willfully ignored my mom’s abuse, and how things never fit with Iris, and—
My eyes roll shut on an internal wince andI’m so tired of myself.
Iris cups my cheek in her palm. “You’re afraid of people leaving you, but you aren’t showing up for yourself, Kris.”
“I’m going to ask you again,” Coal says. “What doyouwant to do? Right now? Do you want to go to some boring ass welcome reception, do you want to stay and keep writing—or do you want to, I don’t know, go to the coronation of a certain St. Patrick’s Day King?”
The air leaves my lungs in a huff and my eyes fly open.
“That’s why you both came,” I guess. “Isn’t it?”
Coal shrugs innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. This conversation happened naturally.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” He grabs my shoulder. “And I don’t hate you either. Iloveyou. Iris loves you. So, Kris.” He squeezes, hard. “What’s it gonna be today? Whatever it is, we’re with you.”
I look, again, at my laptop. At the story, unwritten, waiting.
With a few keystrokes, I can create a happy ending.
But here, now? There’s nothing I can do to guarantee a happy path for myself.
At least, not in this room.
“You talk with Finn?” I ask Iris. More direct this time.
She smiles. “She said he’s miserable. His court backed him as king; Malachy tried to fight it, but Siobhán and Finn produced all kinds of receipts validating his greed, so he’s fully out. And despite all that, Loch’s miserable. I wonder why?”
Good.
Only it isn’t.
I don’t want him miserable.
“I won’t pretend to know everything you went through with him,” Coal says. “And I won’t pretend to like him. But I know you were singing in Belfast. I got to watch you havefunand let go in away I haven’t seen you do in way too long. If you got to that place after a few days with him? It’s worth figuring out what remains of the two of you. It’s worth fighting for.”
I drop my head into my hands and breathe for a second, the whoosh of air in and out of my lungs resonating against the roar of my pulse.
And then I laugh. Bubbling laughter that seizes me and doesn’t let go.
“What’s funny?” Iris asks, half smiling, and Coal is grinning too but his brows are pinched in worry.
“This is the second time,” I manage, breathless, “that we’ve been in this situation. Last time it was Coal, talking him down after Hex left.”
Coal barks a laugh. “Well, if this isn’t the saddest friendship tradition ever: a relationship support group slash intervention. Remember when we used to go to bars?”
Iris folds her arms. “Thistraditionends with you, Kris, because I’m learning from the two of you and your drama-filled bullshit. My happy ending will be normal and boring.”
The levity is like a part in the clouds, a respite of sunbeams.
“The coronation is today?” I ask Coal, my voice small, stunted.
His eyes light up. “It’d be good for Christmas to make an appearance. But, alas, I’m beset by this welcome reception—who ever should we send in my place?”
