Page 5 of Lessons in Forgiving
What was he doing here?
Every fiber of my being knew I shouldn’t turn around. Screamed and fought against the urge, and I still did it anyway.
Henry stood in front of the same building I’d run out of minutes ago, seemingly contemplating the same question (“What am I doing here?”). He threw his head back, hands disappearing in brown hair that looked lighter now that the sun danced through it.
When he shook himself, that had been my cue to leave, right?Beforehe could spot me still looking at him. I shouldn’t be doing that either, and it became much more apparent when he turned, our gazes met across a two-hundred-foot distance, and it was too late to seem cool and disinterested. Suddenly, I wanted to screamPlease take me back!across the courtyard.
I’m totally over him, by the way.
I kept repeating that to myself. When I turned on the spot and made a run for it. When I tried not to interpret the way my chest still felt tight in his presence.
I’m totally over him.
Dios mío, I could hear Maeve’s words before I’d even made it home.
Paula, get yourself together. It’s been a year.Then,We said no contact for a reason, darling. That includes not longingly staring after him when you happen to pass him on campus.
My best friend and I lived together—had been sharing our house with two other girls (and my cat) since our first year, which had made for the cheapest accommodation at the time. When I got there, Maeve took up the entire sofa, red hair spillingacross the cushions while Laila and Riley lounged on the floor in front of it. Pip snuggled between the two, sleeping peacefully, for once.
Behind them, the counter separating living room and kitchen must’ve just been cleaned by one of the girls—probably Laila—because it was empty, save for an equally empty wooden fruit basket.
I hadn’t even opened my mouth, barely managed to slip out of my sneakers and oversized leather jacket when Maeve’s eyes jumped in my direction. One look, and she held up her hand, effectively shushing me.
Reminder: I hadn’t said anything yet.
“I can tell you have something to share,” she said quickly. Her eyes drifted back to the TV. “But not now, P. The girls are about to come back from Casa Amor!”
With a snort, I wiggled my way through the girls on the floor, and Maeve was so engrossed inLove Island, she didn’t even complain when I hurled myself onto the small, teal-colored couch and forced her to scoot over. One of the pink throw blankets fell off the armrest it had been hanging on for dear life, and thewhoosh-sound was enough to make MaeveSh!in its direction. Like somehow the fall had been my fault.
The inevitable cliffhanger came a mere three minutes later, Maeve and Riley groaned loudly enough to fill the entire house with the sound, and Laila simply threw her head against the couch behind her, blonde hair almost tangling with my socked feet.
“Alright.” Maeve finally sat up to scan me intently. “I sense reluctancy from this side of the couch.” She gestured at me with a laugh, drawing Riley and Laila out of their cliffhanger-conversation.
Surely, they’d be my best shot for back up here.
Maeve, with a knowing smile, said, “What don’t you want to tell us but will, anyway?”
My eyes narrowed at her brown ones. “How do you know?”
“My psychic abilities.” Her lips curled deeper. “And the fact you wouldn’t have shut up when I told you to otherwise.”
One thing about Maeve Peterson: Her assessments were always scarily accurate, bordering on actual precognition. More than a few times, I had wiped my thoughts clean just in case she reallycouldread minds.
“Alright,” I said. “You’re not… wrong. About the reluctance.”
“Shocker,” Riley snickered. Laila nudged her with a shush, smoothing a hand down her pin straight hair, the way she always did when too many people suddenly focused on her.
I cleared my throat. “Remember how I’m really bad at making decisions?” The one time I’d made one, it had literally changed the trajectory of my entire life, and I’d been lying to my parents ever since.
Maeve nodded. “Hard to forget, love.”
“So, you help me decide which clothes to buy, what movies to watch. Which… exes not to call.” And there was only one ex I could be referring to.
Alarm spread through my best friend’s features like wildfire. Riley dramatically gasped from the floor, only to underline the situation with some sort of humor—not because she was actually shocked. “I didn’t call anyone!” I clarified quickly.
Maeve blinked at me, less amused than she was a minute ago. “Spit it out, Castillo.”
“Well.” I swallowed, eyes trailing across our living room to avoid her hard gaze. The TV beside the front door showed a freeze frame of theLove Islandintro, our coffee table held few coffee table books, but instead, was covered by magazines, newspapers and three of the novels Riley rotated between. An empty glass vase stood on the sideboard to our left, and on theframed print behind it were our house rules written in a primary blue.
