Page 69 of Lessons in Forgiving
I swallowed thickly, last stray tear escaping my eye. Pip apparently found that very interesting. She tilted her head, eyes following the streak, and sniffed my face until I was almost offended by the insinuation before she leaned further into me. Her rough tongue licked my cheek. Once. Twice.
Cats did love their salt.
A shaky laugh escaped me, and I glanced to my roommates hesitantly. “Sorry,” I laughed, honestly a little awkward. “I don’t know where that came from.”
Laila looked about two seconds away from crying herself if I couldn’t get myself together. Riley’s lips pulled up in an apologetic smile before her head inclined in a slow nod, as if to sayIt’s okay. You’re good.
And Maeve just gave me that sad, knowing smile when she stepped aside to gesture up the stairs. “We’ll be with you in a minute, love,” she said. “Girls’ Night?”
Laila practically bloomed at the word. “Girls’ Night?” she repeated, sharing a hopeful look with the rest of us. “I could really use it,” she muttered to herself.
“What do you need it for?” Riley wondered, not accusatorially—just amused.
“You know I hate when any of you are upset,” she protested, her arms crossing in front of her chest like Riley should’ve known that. She did.
I huffed with a smile, Pip still in my arms when I nodded in agreement. “Girls’ Night.”
CHAPTER 28
NOW
I had recovered. From my moment of weakness. From the thought—the fear—that I might never truly get over Henry.
But in a few months—I realized—, I’d never see him again. We’d graduate, he’ll move to New York, and I’ll be God knows where. The only time I could potentially run into him was when I’d turn on the TV or continued Googling him. Or didn’t unfollow him from my burner account.
The problem would take care of itself.
Until then, he was the subject of this profile—myfriend. So what if I wanted to climb the man like a tree? I was old enough to keep my urges in check and not do anything about them. Admire from afar.
Nothing could be further than scheduling my next interview with his sister instead of him. I didn’t think the two were particularly close; at least they hadn’t been in the past few years.
I’d met Athalia a handful of times, but never because of Henry. First at Daisy’s, where she’d ordered a coffee and wasn’t surprised by her name on the to-go cup, even though she hadn’t given it to me. Then again, here and there, at one party or another—more or less intoxicated every time. By the fourth one, I wasn’t quite sure if she still didn’t know me or if she just hadn’t cared enough about the girl her twin brother was seeing.
The last time I saw her was four months ago, at the Pressley’s New Year’s Eve party somewhere in the Hamptons. We’d spoken, mostly because her best friend Wren had started dating Laila.
We’d been in each other’s orbit for a while, never really crossing paths. It didn’t keep her from greeting me like we’d been best friends for years now, though.
“Paula!” Athalia cheered, her brown hair falling down her back in long waves, green eyes wide with surprise. Presumably because she hadn’t asked who I was through the intercom, and I knew from Henry that she was as great at keeping track of her appointments as I was: not at all. “Come in.” She shooed me into the loft across the street from Henry’s.
“Sorry for abusing your doorbell.” I slipped out of my shoes and followed her into the living room, where she patted the spot beside her on the leather couch. “Just didn’t want to run into… anyone,” I explained as I sank into the cushions.
“Anyone, yes,” Athalia hummed, mischief sprawling across her features in the same way it would across Henry’s. Her green eyes trailed to the window front. “If we’re lucky, we might seeAnyonecreeping through his windows,” she said matter-of-factly, sending me an apologetic glance.
“How would he— ?”
“Know?” she guessed. “I told him you’re here. Sorry! It kind of just slipped out when he wouldn’t shut up about my nonexistent life plan, and I threw ‘Well,yourgirlfriend is inmyplans for today’ at him.” She winced. “Which just led him down this tangent of how and why you two aren’t… you know.” She stopped in her rambling, eyes trailing to me again. “Curious how he knew I was talking about you, though. Isn’t it?”
“Oh,” I offered unhelpfully. “Well.” Itwascurious, but I couldn’t very much say that now. I cleared my throat, tried to subtly change subjects. “How are you guys?”
I’d asked Henry the same question a few weeks ago, but it felt like I might get a better answer out of his sister. Athalia was way chattier, and much more likely to throw him under the bus.
She sighed, and her head fell back against the couch. “Better.” Same as Henry had said. “In a weird turn of events I did not expect, dating Dylan actually rolled my relationship with Henry in the right direction. He hates him so much, he started to care about me! Can you believe that?” She laughed, but her eyes stayed closed when she shook her head.
“I totally can,” I snorted in amusement. Setting my phone between us, pen and paper in my lap, I couldn’t even get half of the next question in before her eyes snapped open, connecting right with mine. She sat up, and I cut myself off.
“Wait, sorry. I don’t want to interrupt, but I already have, so I might as well just—” She shifted in her seat, turned to me fully. “I gotta know this or I won’t sleep tonight.”
Although her eyes flicked to my recording phone, she didn’t seem to care. “Did he end up apologizing?” she asked. “For being an oblivious idiot who couldn’t grasp people’s feelings if his life depended on it?”
