Page 12 of Penance
MJ lifts her eyes, leaning forward and bracing her arms on the table as she studies me. Her eyes narrow, and she purses her lips. I’d never tell MJ this because Abigail and MJ are very different people, but MJ looks just like her mother when she looks at me like that.
“You sound awfully down for a beauty queen who was just saved by a war hero. I didn’t even know Theo fought in a war,” MJ teases, and I groan, dropping my head to the table with a bang.
“I knew the rumors were going to be out of hand today. I should have stayed home.”
“Hey,” MJ says, reaching out and patting my head like I’m a puppy needing comfort. “We all have to be victims of the gossip train some time or another. Your time is now. It will pass soon enough.”
I don’t lift my head, but I turn it enough to crack open one eye and glare at her. “Is that what you told yourself when you were the one riding that train?”
MJ is smart enough to look sheepish, her cheeks turning red as she tries to hide her smile.
“No, but I digress,” she says, shrugging. “It’s still true.”
I roll my eyes and turn my head back down toward the table.
“I hate your positivity. I hope you know that,” I say the words, but they don’t come out like normal. A tightness has started to weigh on my chest, and my eyes are burning.
I don’t cry. From a young age, I learned that crying gives away your weaknesses, but that’s exactly how I feel. Weak.
It’s stupid because MJ is right. The gossip will die down. Someone will do something stupid, and the town will move on to that. But until then, I’m the center of attention, and that’s not a place that has ever treated me well. My shoulders shudder with the effort to hold myself together.
I will not cry. Not here. Not ever.
“Hey, Lily,” MJ says, her voice different than before—kinder, maybe? She reaches out her hand, resting it softly atop my arm, and I try not to flinch. “Breathe. We’ll figure this out together, okay?”
Jitters still run beneath my skin—an itch I can’t scratch—but I take a deep breath, arranging my appearance on the outside before I liftmy head. The weight is still there. It always seems to be there, but I’ve gotten good at faking that it isn’t.
“Sorry. I lost my composure for a moment.” I offer her a smile, but my face feels tight, like I’m not doing it right. It was bad enough breaking down in front of Theo last night. The adrenaline had seeped out of me, and I couldn’t make myself move. Now, here I am, breaking down again, only this time in front of MJ.
“You don’t have to apologize, you know,” MJ says, stealing one of my mini muffins I ordered and then promptly sat aside after I saw the newspaper. “Everyone has moments when they break down.”
That may be true for someone like MJ. She is so confident that she doesn’t worry about what others think of her—not even her mother. But for someone like me, I thrive on control. I used to think I was jealous of MJ because she had Hayes’s attention, but now I realize it’s because MJ knows how to let go.
“Not me,” I say, the fake smile making my cheeks ache.
______________________
After seeing the paper and running into MJ, I should’ve cut my losses and gone straight home. Instead, I chose foolishness over sanity.
I needed to see the community building in the daylight—see how close that brush with death had gotten. Maybe it is morbid, but a sense of doom has settled around my shoulders since last night, and I can’t shake it.
So, with a second coffee in hand, I drive out of the coffee shop parking lot and head out.
Like all drives in this town, it takes me five minutes to get there. Not that I’m complaining. The ability to get wherever I want in such a short time is another reason I love Benton Falls. But this time, I wish the drive had been longer. I needed more time to prepare for the devastation I see when I pull up.
I’d known the fire was bad last night, but it is so much worsethan anything I could’ve imagined in the light of day. One side of the building is gone. Burned to ashes. Black soot covers everything, including the ground, and the tree I’d been lying on is also damaged. I hadn’t realized it’d caught fire, too.
That sense of doom grows heavier as I pull into a parking space and put my car in park. My hands are shaking so badly I have to grab the steering wheel to gain some control, and those tears I’d managed to keep at bay in front of MJ prick my eyes again.
I almost died last night.
The thought keeps running through my head, and I can’t get it out. I can’t quit thinking about how utterly off-track my life has gotten. Last night was almost the end of it, and I can’t think of one good thing I’ve done in this life to make it worthwhile.
Sure. I have a job. I got out of poverty. I made something out of myself, but as I stare up at the building where I could have lost my life, none of those things feel meaningful enough. I’m so lost in that thought that I don’t notice the woman walking to my car until she knocks on my window.
The noise startles me, forcing my attention from the building as I swipe at my face. Abigail Harrison stands outside my car, regal as always, watching me with a knowing look. My face flames hot, and I’m suddenly very aware of what I mess I must look.
Abigail is always the picture of perfection, never a hair out of place. She’s the type of woman I want to be. The kind that would never get stuck in a tree. Yet here I am, looking like a slouch and on the verge of a mental breakdown. Some things never change, and it’s starting to feel like I’m one of them.
