Page 62 of Huckleberry Hill
“I mean, if he was the one who was going to make the move, then he’s obviously throwing caution to the wind and deciding it’s worth the risk,” Poet said. “Ergo . . .”
“Yes, ergo,” Salem agreed. “If he kisses you then it’s not on you if he loses his job.”
“That’s so cavalier,” I stated.
“Is this because you’d feel guilty?” Poet asked quietly. “Like, would you feel like you’re betraying Gianni?”
I thought about her question for a moment and then reluctantly shook my head. “No. It doesn’t really have anything to do with Gianni.”
“That’s interesting,” Salem said.
“I know this sounds weird. Like really weird. But since I haven’t heard from him and I’ve been back here . . . it feels like it happened in another life already.”
“I don’t think that’s weird,” Poet said. “If anything, it proves we were right in telling you to go home to heal.”
“There are two types of healing. Emotional and physical. It’s time to jump back in the saddle, woman,” Wyn said. “Get your groove back or whatever.”
“I’ll think about it,” I lied. “Thanks for the advice, peanut gallery. I’m gonna go now.”
“One more thing,” Salem said.
“What?” I asked.
“Do it scared,” she said, her eyes meeting mine.
I groaned. “That’s not fair.”
“I think it would be good for you,” she said. “Live a little.”
“Why? You live enough for both of us,” I replied.
“Mommy and Daddy are fighting,” Wyn said. “I’m out.”
“Me too,” Poet added.
The two of them left and it was just me and my sister.
“I’m worried about you,” she said.
“Why? Why is me being cautious something to be worried about?”
“Because you’re always cautious,” she said.
“And the one time I wasn’t, I got my heart broken,” I pointed out.
“Did you? Did you really get your heart broken?”
“Now you’re doubting how much I loved Gianni?”
“Loved? It’s already in the past?”
I fell silent.
“Is it?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Because if I say yes, then did I really love him at all? And if I say no, am I pathetic?”
It was Salem’s turn to fall silent.
