Page 88 of Don't Leave
While Jackie grins in response, I remain silent. There’s no way I’m going to touch that loaded question.
I mean…what the hell am I supposed to say?
We all know that this isnothinglike old times.
“All right.” She clears her throat. “I need to run to the store to pick up more flour. I should be back in about thirty minutes.”
Her gaze bounces between us before she exits the room.
Longing fills Jackie’s eyes as she stares after my mother. “I’ve really missed her,” she murmurs.
“You could always see if she’d be willing to go out with you.” The comment shoots out of my mouth before I can rein it back in again.
She huffs out a breath before dropping down onto the chair. “Where’s Thomas? Is he around?”
My gaze stays glued to the action unfolding on the screen. “He’s at the hospital.”
Another stretch of uncomfortable silence falls over us. As much as I want to enjoy this game, that’s not going to happen.
Five more tortuous minutes pass by before I mutter, “What did you want to talk about?”
The last time I saw Jackie was at the hockey game where I lost my shit. It’s also the night Cassidy and I broke up. I grumbled out a quick hello to my ex after I came out of the locker room but was in no mood to converse after having coach ram his size twelve boot up my ass.
She nibbles at her lower lip as if silently debating how to proceed.
We might have been incommunicado for a year, but I still know every expression that flits across her face and every nervous gesture. I guess that’s what you get with a solid decade of friendship under your belt.
“I was hoping we could talk about what happened.” She gulps before pushing out the rest. “Maybe start over again.” Her voice drops. “We were always such good friends. I miss that.” There’s a pause. “I miss you.”
I straighten on the couch before swiveling toward her. “You have some nerve showing up at my door after you screwed me over. And now you want to sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened so we can magically go back to being friends again?” I shake my head. “You’re the one who shit all over our friendship. Not me.” Anger bubbles up inside me. “You weren’t just mygirlfriend, you were mybest friend. What you did cut deep and there’s no coming back from that.”
When she remains silent, I snap, “Did you really think it would be that simple? That all you’d have to do is waltz in here and decide we should be friends again and poof—we would be? That it could all go back to the way it was before you cheated on me?”
If I’m not careful, I’ll start frothing at the mouth. That’s how pissed off I am. It’s the reason I didn’t want to sit down with her in the first place. It’s the reason I’ve been avoiding her.
A dull heat crawls up her cheeks as moisture gathers her eyes. There was a time in the not so distant past when the sight of her tears would have me backing down and apologizing, but that’s no longer the case.
This girl ripped my heart out last year.
And then she stomped all over it.
“I’m so sorry, Cole,” she whispers in a thick voice overflowing with unspent emotion. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”
My shoulders slump as some of the anger drains away. “What do you want from me?”
She gulps before whispering, “I want your forgiveness.”
I shake my head as laughter gurgles up in my throat. Either she’s lost it, or I have. I can barely look at her, much less absolve her. “I don’t think I can do that.”
“It’s been over a year. Can’t we at least try to move on?”
“I know exactly how long it’s been.” Even though I’d thought I was completely over her and what happened, I realize that it’s still festering inside me like poison.
“I screwed up.” Her eyes turn pleading. “And I hurt my best friend in the process.”
What sucks most is that Jackie had been my closest friend.
I’d been ten years old when my dad died and she’s the one who sat up in tree house with me for hours while I sobbed like a little girl. I still remember what it felt like to have her scrawny arms wrapped tightly around me, holding onto me for dear life as if I might float away if she didn’t anchor me to the earth.
