Page 102 of Lessons in Forgiving
Before I could protest loudly and die of mortification and embarrassment, I felt Henry’s hand in mine. Really, he only let his hand brush over my skin, but it was enough to keep my mouth shut.
That seemed to surprise even her. Not for long, but she was caught off-guard regardless.
A small win in my book.
“Rip it off like a band-aid,” Maeve repeated in agreement. “Plus.” Her eyes shot back to me. “He has no choice but to agree with me. To get back in my good graces,” she explained.
“She’s right.”
“Will you two do nothing but agree with each other today?” I groaned, exasperated.
Maeve ignored my outburst. “No one wants their girl’s best friend to hate them. Right, Henry?” Her eyes narrowed as she doubled down, and this time it felt more like a test. Like she didn’t say it to piss me off, but to see his reaction.
Like a parent trying to figure out their daughter’s significant other’s intentions, before they’d take their little girl off to prom.
Henry’s lips split into a deep grin, and I realized he was just as aware of the fact.
“Maeve,” he said, leaning forward enough to poke her shoulder. She swayed slightly. “You could never hate me.”
“Do that again and we’ll see about that, Pressley.”
Whether she meant the poke or the breakup, I didn’t know.
Either way, Henry’s expression turned serious, solemn. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Which… was nice. And terrifying.
While we’d been enjoying each other’s company in more ways than just physical (though that, too. Definitely that.) we’d never spoken of the Hamptons again. Of his confession. Of mine. And of the fact that no matter how much I wanted to be with him, our circumstances had hardly changed.
I’d forgiven him just half an hour ago, yes, but he was off to play in the big leagues soon and I’d be doing… God knows what. Forgiveness was one thing, but the issue of time and priorities and schedules was not one we’d leave behind in college. A problem that hadn’t been solved.
I paled at the reminder of conversations to be had, and apparently enough for Maeve to slip off my bed. “You guys should talk.” It made me want to murderandthank her. “And just so you actually do, I’m leaving this door open.”
“Question.” Maeve was almost out the door when Henry piped up one more time. She glanced across her shoulder, a brow quirked. “You don’t seem… surprised by me. That I’m here.”
It wasn’t a question, but she answered anyway. “I’m not,” she deadpanned. “I know you’ve been at it like rabbits for… a while. Since the Hamptons, probably.” At Henry’s surprise, she unhelpfully elaborated. “Paula always has this glow around her when you’re involved.” And she left.
Right then, the onlyglowon my face was bright red.
“Aw,” Henry cooed. “You glow!”
“Shut up.”
“I will literally never let this go,” he stressed, gloating in that way of his when he repeated, “You glow!” Wide-eyed and happy, he couldn’t get the grin off his face, and he could not keep his eyes off me.
How couldInot spend every second of my waking life wanting to kiss him?
“Door! Open!” Maeve shouted from downstairs, like she knew we were well on our way not to. “Talk! Now!” she added.
I sighed, letting my head fall back into the pillow. “I hate that girl,” I whispered affectionately.
“Well.” Henry mirrored me, laid his head on the same pillow and looked up at the ceiling with me. “She loves you.”
He felt for my hand on top of the covers, intertwined a single finger with one of mine. Fussed with them.
And I could feel it on his lips. The moment was so tangible, the template so perfect, I think I was holding my breath. Waited for him to say something likeI do, too. Or,Maeve and I have that in common. Or,I happen to know what that’s like.
“Talk about what?” he asked instead.
