Page 8 of Choosing a Forever
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the way she brushed me off and how it stung a bit when she didn’t say she wanted to see me again, too.
I also haven’t been able to stop thinking about the red of her hair or the gold rings piercing her nose. She looked so familiar but like a stranger at the same time.
I never would have pictured her with nose piercings.
But somehow, they suit her.
I’ve stopped myself from trying to find her on social media because what am I even looking for? A confirmation she’s taken? To see how she’s changed and what her life’s been like post-graduation? A way to get back into her life?
We were best friends before we dated freshman year and into our sophomore year, so maybe I’m just feeling nostalgic about the relationship we had. How simple things were back then.
But a deeper part of me—the part I try to ignore—knowsshe’s the one who got away, and it makes me want to reconcile and try again.
It feels like running into each other is a sign. A sign of what? I have no clue.
Maybe she’s married, and this is just a chance for us to be friends again.
I hope it’s not that.
I give in to my urge to look her up and type in her name, frowning when the profile Ithinkis hers comes up as private. The picture is of a redhead with her hair in a bun facing away from the camera, a large moth tattoo is etched on the back of her neck. Would Mackenzie get a neck tattoo? I didn’t notice any on her when I saw her,but she was also covered in long sleeves and pants, and her hair was down around her neck.
I request to follow her, then switch over to a different app and type in her name, but nothing comes up.
Huh. That’s weird. I thought for sure we were friends at one point.
I’m already pushing it to get to family dinner on time, so I decide to investigate more a little bit later. I buckle my golden retriever into her doggy car harness and drive the short distance to my childhood home.
Siren barks when we arrive and darts to the door as soon as I have her unbuckled. Mom opens the door when she hears her furry grandbaby. Siren sits patiently on the porch until Mom gives her a head scratch and the okay to go inside.
“Hi, honey! How are you doing?” Mom greets me and wraps her arms around my waist, giving me a squeeze.
“Good, Mom. How are you?”
“Things are going. How has work been?” We step inside, and I take off my shoes, following her into the kitchen where she’s stirring a pot of what smells like creamy potato soup.
She’s still wearing her church dress, but she’s exchanged her nylons for a pair of fuzzy socks and house slippers. Her graying blonde hair is pulled up with a clip, and her glasses are sitting perched on top of her head.
“It’s been kind of slow. We’ve mostly been dealing with car accident calls this week, but luckily, nothing serious.”
Mom sighs. “I don’t understand how people who have lived here their whole lives forget how to drive in the snow.”
“I don’t know, but they’ve mostly been fender benders at least. Speaking of, last week there was an accident on Main Street, and Mackenzie Thorpe was involved.”
I watch my mom for any sign of recognition. She wasn’t really a fan of Mackenzie in high school, but I know she knows her parents.
Mom’s stirring pauses before she slowly starts again. “Oh? I hope it wasn’t too severe.”
“No, she’s fine. Did you know she moved back here?”
I watch Mom’s head move with a nod. “After what happened, it would’ve been strange if she hadn’t come back.”
I furrow my brows. “What do you mean? Afterwhathappened?”
Mom lowers the heat of the burner and turns around to give me a puzzled look. “Her parents?”
My stomach starts to sink, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Did something happen to them?”
Mom’s jaw drops open. “You don’t know?”
