Page 127 of Between Love and War
Every single time.
EPILOGUE
Haley (The next protagonist)
Today is the gazillionth SEA Games. I’m sure there’s a number. I’m just too lazy to check. We’re all gathered at Lily’s, while Kate and Emily are on Facetime. Emily’s back in New York. Kate’s in some bland hotel room that could be in Manila or Malaysia or Mars for all I can tell, with Michael in the background stretching.
The table in front of us is a glorious mess: three separate bowls of popcorn (one sweet, one salty, one inexplicably spicy), enough chips to keep a small village alive for a week, and six sweating glasses of various soft drinks and juices. Half are mine. Yes, half. I like options.
“We miss you, Kate,” I say as she ties her hair from the screen. She’s with Michael, and they’re traveling for the SEA games. “We miss your cookies. Bon tried to bake a batch, and now I think we all have salmonella.”
Bon shoots me a glance. “You can’t get salmonella from cookies,” she says.
“Fromyourcookies, we can!” I say.
Ryan snorts, but immediately stops and says, “They’re great, Bon.” But Bon rolls her eyes. I’m sure even she knew those cookies were inedible.
We go back and forth for a while—Bon defending her “experimental” baking methods, Ryan making safe diplomatic noises, Emily laughing, probably thinking how grateful she is that she’s not physically here. Kate is smiling fondly from the screen.
But under all the banter, I’m aware of something else. A… shift.
Emily’s been gone for years now. Kate’s gone too, even if it’s temporary. And Richard’s leaving in a month, but I haven’t let myself think too hard about him yet.
The truth is people keep leaving. And when they do, you either grab on or you pretend you’re fine. I’ve always been a pretender. An actress, even in real life.
I’m still wearing my rehearsal clothes, so I excuse myself to go home and change. When I step out, the heat of the afternoon air stings. But what catches my attention is Richard, leaning on the railing in front of Lily’s.
“What are you still doing here? The game’s starting,” I tell Richard. “Are you hiding from Bon’s cookies too?”
He chuckles. “Something like that.”
I step up beside him, elbows on the railing. He’s wearing jeans and a shirt that looks like they should be washed. “You look like shit.”
“My flight got pushed up,” he says, still not moving out of the way. My stomach sinks.
If he’s leaving sooner than I thought, then I should probably tell him that I’m gonna miss him. Okay, I can say that. I think.
“Oh? When?” is all I manage to say. “Next week?”
“Tonight,” he replies, and I freeze.
“Oh.”
There are about twelve different things I could say.I’m gonna miss you, dipshit. Call me when you land. Stay in touch. Don’t forget about me. Try to forget about me and I’ll hunt you down.
Say anything, Haley.
“But Hales,” he starts, and I stop attempting to say what I want to say. “I need to tell you something before I go. I don’t know if I’ll return. It’s a pretty solid job. But I… I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for years.”
The muscles in my shoulders go tense. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve imagined this scenario to be much better, but… I only have a few hours left. I just need you to know…”
He finally looks at me, and it’s like every version of him I’ve ever known—awkward kid with the crooked smile, teenager who beat me at basketball on my own driveway, the guy who still shows up for my birthday every year—are all standing there at once.
“Richard. Spill it, you’re being such a baby,” I say.
“I like you, Haley. No, sorry, I love you. I’ve loved you for so long.”
