Page 100 of Before You
“No,” she interrupts. “Seriously,fuck you.I understand how much it sucks to lose, but it doesn’t give you the right to speak to me the way you did. You don’t get to just walk away after telling me I shouldn’t have come across the country to see you, and if you’re really apologizing, you can start by telling me what really happened when you hurt your knee.”
Marley squeezes my hand, offering silent reassurance, and it means more than she’ll ever know. My heart rate slows, and I exhale a shaky breath. “I really am sorry, but there’s nothing to tell. You didn’t deserve to be the person I took my anger out on, and I wish I could take it back.”
“We’re family. You don’t walk away from family, okay?”
Her choice of words only reminds me of Bailey and the ugly secret I’m keeping.
“I won’t.”
“Promise me,” she says, her voice cracking,
“I promise,” I agree, hoping I can keep it.
By the time the call ends, my brain is screaming at me, begging for a reprieve.
Just one won’t kill you. It’ll make everything a little easier, and all this pain and agony will fade away.
“You okay?” Marley asks, breaking the silence as I shove the thoughts to the back of my head.
“No, but I’m hoping I will be,” I admit, seeking out the comfort holding her brings, and she settles against me once more. “I know it’s not fair of me to ask this, especially at the last moment, but is there any way you’d want to come to North Carolina with me for break? I-I need to find a way to tell myfamily about the call from Bailey, and I don’t . . .” I trail off, feeling guilty for asking. Her brother is supposed to be back from Italy, and I’m sure her family has shit planned. “Actually, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. Forget I asked.”
“Hey, don’t do that. If you need me there, I’ll be there,” she says, yawning, and I fold my arms around her again. “I love every part of you—especially the imperfect parts, JJ.”
Hearing this from Marley after she knows the truth meanseverythingto me. “I love every part of you too, Marley,” I whisper, closing my eyes once more, finally beginning to see a way through the darkness.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Marley
JJ TALKED TO his parents about Bailey the first night we were here, and I think it’s for the best he got the conversation over with. I hoped he would tell them about his drug problem too, but after the way his mom began crying, I don’t blame JJ for not being able to.
It helps me understand a little more why he broke down the way he did at my front door the last time Bailey called, and why the phone call two weeks ago sent him spiraling in the first place.
I’m sitting on the wraparound deck of his parents’ beach house, flipping through the pages of my songbook, trying to find which one I want to give to JJ for his birthday. When Sebastian asked JJ at dinner last night what he wanted for his birthday since they weren’t going to be able to go to France with everyone’s schedules, I felt stupid for not realizing his birthday was the same day as Christmas.
I definitely need to get him something better than a pillow, and hopefully one of the songs I’ve written about him isn’t too cheesy of an idea.
Picking one is proving to be harder than I expected it to be, though.
“When you asked if I wanted to run with you, you failed to mention we’d be running at a sprint the entire five miles.” A deep voice groans from the bottom of the stairs.
“I think what you mean to say isThanks, JJ, for offering to help keep me in shape,” JJ says, his familiar laugh tugging at my heart strings.
“I’m plenty in shape—you’re fucking insane if you think this is fun.”
JJ’s dark head of hair appears as he jogs up the wooden stairs, his defined chest glistening from perspiration, and I don’t even try to pretend I’m not staring at him. Hunter appears a moment later, clutching his side while he groans, his entire shirt soaked through with sweat despite the chilly breeze coming off the water.
“Hey, sweetheart,” JJ greets, and I manage to tear my gaze away from his torso, happy to see his green eyes sparkling.
“How was your run?” I ask, shutting the songbook, and his eyes linger on it, an easy smile forming.
“Would have been better if he hadn’t complained the whole time.”
“Shut the fuck . . . up,” Hunter says, struggling to breathe.
“Getting any inspo from the ocean? If you sit here long enough, you might spot a mermaid,” he says, and Hunter keels over, panting as he flops onto his back, staring up at the sky. From how hard he hit the deck, I’m wondering how it’s supposed to make him feel better. “You definitely have a close-up of a dead fish.”
“Just looking through old songs,” I answer, biting my lip to keep my laughter from slipping out.
