Page 38 of My Favorite Bad Decision
He laughs as the Arnaults approach. “He only donated money for the bookstore, you know. So I did have to attend a class or two.”
“I know,” I reply. “I just like to throw shit at you to see what will stick.”
He gives me a lopsided smile. “I’ve always enjoyed watching you try.”
“We are ready?” Gideon asks.
The seven of us glance at each other and nod. “We’re ready.”
We turn on our headlamps and begin walking. There are a million stars in the sky, but they don’t offer us much light—all I can see is Alex in front of me and occasionally a hint of Gideon ahead of him.
The path is so narrow that we have to walk in single file for hours. Alex has headphones in. I’m listening to the wind whipping through my clothes. Miller, apparently, is listening tome.
“You okay?” he asks from behind, placing his gloved hand on my hip. “You’re sounding winded.”
I can feel that glove through four layers of clothing. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
I’m not sure if that’s true, however. I’m exhausted, and the air is so thin that it’s hard to breathe. I’m getting a little lightheaded and loopy, thinking crazy things. Occasionally I hallucinate a little or remember things from long ago as if they’ve just happened.
Miller, walking into the kitchen to discover me sitting on the counter, eating a popsicle. He was so lovely, even then. Was that really ten years ago? It hardly seems possible.
There’s a path cleared through the ice and we trek, stumbling and dazed, upward. It’s dark for most of the journey, and the air seems to get a little thinner with each step.
I glance back toward Maddie, and she gives me a thumbs-up. I glance at Miller next. I’m worried about him though he’s given me no reason for it. Are his eyes unfocused? It’s hard to tell in the darkness.
“Are you okay?” I shout to him.
He nods, but it’s not as reassuring as it should be. Because what if he isn’t okay? He’s just the type to claim he’s fine when he’s not. If something happened to Miller…I’d be just as destroyed as I was with Rob.
How is that possible? How can I possibly care about him nearly as much as I do a man I was madly in love with for two full years? How can I possibly care about him as much as a man I loved andmorethan the one I’m planning to marry?
“I’m not thinking clearly,” I mumble to myself, shaking my head. Nothing makes sense right now. If I allowed myself to, I’d burst into tears and probably cry the rest of the way up, but I have no idea why.
I’m staring at the few feet ahead of me—the snowbanks on either side, a ring of light on Alex’s back—but what I’m really seeing is that last day in the cottage at the Hamptons with Miller.
I’d started the morning down at the beach with him and Maren and some of their friends, but I could tell Maren and Miller no longer wanted me there. I was a brat, but not the type of brat who’d outstay her welcome.
I’d gone back to the house to pout and was sitting on the kitchen counter with a cherry popsicle when he walked in to fill the cooler. “Is that why you left the beach? So you could sit up here and eat popsicles in peace?”
I wanted to mouth off, but my head was blank and my mouth was dry. He was in nothing but swim trunks, and I’d never seen anything in my life hotter than Miller’s back flexing as he turned to open the refrigerator door.
“You guys didn’t want me there,” I replied. It was probably the least abrasive thing I’d ever said to him. I just didn’t have the capacity for antagonism in that moment.
He stiffened and turned toward me. “That’s not true.”
I sucked on the popsicle as I pulled it out of my mouth. “Yes, it is. You should realize by now it takes more than that to hurt my feelings.”
His gaze dropped to my mouth and the popsicle, and he winced and turned back to the refrigerator. “That wasn’t about you. It was about that kid Mare knows from Columbia who keeps hitting on you.”
“Why does it matter?” I’d asked.
He stood, nostrils flaring as the popsicle slid back between my lips. “Because he’s five years older than you.”
“But why does itmatter, Miller?” I’d asked.
For a single second we just looked at each other, and then he shut the refrigerator door, grabbed the cooler, and walked off.
I thought he’d just gone back to the beach. It turned out that he’d left us entirely.
