Page 77 of Lessons in Forgiving
In hindsight, I wished that photo had been the last one, the end of the folder. Though when I clicked to the next, unsuspecting and naïve, I stared back at my own face. His and mine, as we stood by the penalty spot, the ball between us.
I frowned down at it; he smiled up at me.
I was reluctant to click through to the next one. But maybe I’d only gotten into her selection by accident, and she hadn’t meant to take it, never mind send it to me?
No, unfortunately. I was on that one, too. Laughing up at Henry, a subtle smile on his own lips.
How hadn’t we noticed her up there?
I winced as the next picture materialized on my screen. Henry and me. On the ground. Just that it did not look like the vicious foul it had actually been. At all.
She’d captured that in-between, before he told methis is why I do it, and after we’d laughed until my cheeks had hurt. Where we’d just looked at each other, the faintest trace of a smile on our lips, eyes widened. If Hallie’s zoom had been just a little better, she probably would’ve captured my dilated pupils, the breath stuck in my throat.
Henry’s face, though… her camera had been good enough to see everything written across his face. Like he’d had his guard down for a little over a second, and Hallie had taken a picture of it.
This is how he looked at me?
I couldn’t help my eyes trailing back to Henry, looking at me like he’d just found the center of the world.
Before I could convince myself that I was going mad—that there must’ve been a hundred other explanations for his expression, for the fact he’d looked at me like he’d just found the center of the universe—my phone vibrated against the woodendesk. I was inclined not to answer the unknown number, then remembered itcouldbe work related. I got out of my chair with a pained sigh.
Passing Lacy, she shot me an innocent smile from behind her screen. “Just not meant to be, huh?”
I grimaced on my way out, shutting the door behind me with more force than needed.Not meant to be, huh?I mocked her in my head, raising the phone to my ear. “Paula Castillo,” I said.
“Paula,” they said by way of greeting.
I double-checked the screen at the familiar voice.
“It’s Henry.” He confirmed my fear. “I got a new phone; you blocked my number a while back.”
Maeve had. Months ago. After my second drunk call, right before deleting it.
I huffed in reply, relaxing against the wall behind me. “You mean new phonenumber,” I corrected him.
“Oh.” The silence lingered from the other end, background noise the only thing making it through. “I could’ve done that. Yeah.” It seemed he hadn’t even considered the possibility. “Anyway, I need to see you—talk to you. I don’t have much time, but it’ll only take a minute. Can you spare that?”
I made up this thing in my head where I told myself I needed to talk to you.
The thought of what had happened after those words made me blush, my stomach flutter. Clear signs that I should avoid him by any means possible. To keep myself out of a situation where I’d have to rely on our shared self-restraint again—something neither of us seemed to have much of.
“I’m at thePost, actually.” And I didn’t have much time either because I had to be in Eddie’s office with that first draft in fifteen minutes.
So, when my gaze got stuck on Henry, right as he came up the stairs, my stomach dropped. Like by a mile a second—the way itwould at the top of a roller coaster; that first second after the cart tipped forward.
I only distantly heard the call disconnecting when Henry said, “Perfect.”
He must’ve just been at the gym because his hair was still damp from the shower he’d taken, and his muscles looked more defined. Although I wasn’t sure if that’s how the science behind that worked or if maybe I was just…tooaware of every slither of skin he was showing in the black tank top he wore.
Either way, my heart dropped into the pit of my stomach, where it continued to beat unsteadily at the reminder of our last encounter.
I’d been trying to forget it since. His hair had been equally wet, and he’d looked just as good. His lips had been just as pink, eyes just as green. Freckles around his nose just as perfect.
I clutched the phone in my hand, only to keep myself from going over there to finish what we’d started that night in his car.
Be reasonable, I tried to convince myself. But there was no point anymore. Not really.
“Hi,” I breathed. He came to an abrupt halt a few inches away, like his body had wanted to come closer and he physically had to deny the subconscious request.
