As I watch her leave and get in her car and drive away, I realize there is a version of this where Gen never says anything. She lets it go and just keeps wondering why. Where Amanda stays scared and angry and hurt and continues to blame me for everything. It’s the version where I lose myself forever and never find my way back. And for the first time, I think I understand—in my headandmy heart—why we’re really doing this.
For us.
We’re doing this for us. Somehow that makes this all so much more real, more frightening.
JOSH
I’m sitting in bed reading, when I hear Dominic call from the other room, “Your girlfriend’s here!” I look at my phone; it’s not even five o’clock.
She walks into my room and closes the door behind her, still wearing her apron.
“What, did Captain Douchebag let you leave early?” I ask.
She shakes her head and drops her bag on the floor like it was too heavy to hold on to for another second. There’s this faraway look in her eyes as she slips out of her shoes and walks toward me. I set my textbooks down on the nightstand to make space for her, because she’s crawling into my lap without a word, curling up against me.
“Hey, you okay?” I can smell the coffee in her hair as I place my arms around her—she didn’t even stop by her apartment before coming up here. My mind immediately goes to her asshole manager, to that cook who’s always leering at her. “Eden, did something happen?”
“No,” she whispers. “I just missed you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” she mumbles against my neck.
“You would tell me if one of those guys from the café messed with you, right?”
She finally looks up at me, searches my face, clearly has no idea what I’m talking about. “What do you mean, what guys?”
“No, never mind,” I tell her, shaking my head. “Nothing.”
We spend the rest of the weekend in bed, half the time dozing, the other half exploring each other in the daylight for a change. More sleeping, making love, feeding each other leftover cake. Heaven.
Sunday afternoon turns into Sunday night and I know I have to let her go, but I keep wanting just a few more minutes with her. She lets me redress her burn, and I watch her pack her bag. At the car, I try one more time to convince her to let me come.
“I heard you, okay?” I say. “I don’t need to be there in the courtroom if that isn’t going to help, but at least let me be there before and after.”
“Youarehere with me before.” She takes my hands. “And you’ll be here waiting for me after, right?”
I nod. “I’ll be here.”
“Thank you, that’s what I need from you,” she says, and I try to believe her.
We kiss goodbye, and my heart aches to think of not seeing her for possibly a whole week. It’s kind of scary how attached I am after only a month of being together again.
“You’re allowed to change your mind, okay?” I tell her as I bend down and lean into the car window. “If you decide you want me there, I’m there.”
She smiles and says, “Okay,” even though I have a feeling she won’t change her mind.
I kiss her once more, squeeze her hand, tell her “I love you” one last time.
And then I stand there on the sidewalk, that same helpless feeling I had before burrowing deeper into my stomach, while I watch as the car shrinks smaller and smaller in the distance.
EDEN
Mom drives me and Caelin to the courthouse in the morning for the walk-through. Lane meets us on the other side of the security checkpoint and escorts us to the courtroom we’ll be in. There’s less wood than I expected from all the TV courtrooms, less everything— the space is utilitarian, with no warmth or character or ornamentation of any kind. I can hear all three of us breathing, no one wanting to talk, so the room swallows our breath.
DA Silverman struts in a few minutes later, in her high heels and impeccable suit, which is decidedly not business casual. Behind her are Amanda and her mom, and Gen, looking younger today, somehow, than she had at the café. There’s an older man with her who I assume must be her father.
The parents greet one another like they’re at a funeral, small syllables, all hushed and subtle. Gen steps close to me, and for a second I get scared that she’s going to hug me or something and possibly give away the fact that we’d met the other day. But that’s not what she does; she pulls my brother in for a brief hug.