42. Luke
CHAPTER 42
Luke
TWO WEEKS LATER
I come up with a lot of shitty ideas. Truly. Ridiculous ones. Going back home to Kinsdale Springs with Gigi was definitely one of them.
Being in love blinds you to a lot of things. It turns you fucking delusional. I know I did because there I was, thinking that everything would turn out fine and everyone would welcome us with open arms. Yet here I am, about to be dumped by my girlfriend.
“Gi, fucking sit down for a minute, will you?” I grab her wrist with the hope that she’ll stop packing the two suitcases that she brought all the way from Ravensfield.
“My flight is tomorrow, Luke. I need to get everything ready and you should go to church,” she answers coldly.
Ah, yes. Church. The reason Gigi went from zero to one hundred in a matter of hours. Not that our relationship wasn’t already steadily going down since Aunt Judith scared her off. I have watched in real time how my girlfriend turned from warm and loving into an ice cube. Fun summer.
“I told you; I’m not fucking going there,” I try to temper my voice as I shove both hands in my pockets. “Not until this whole thing blows over.”
“And I told you, you should go,” she says, her voice raised. “Seriously, you’re making it worse. They already think I corrupted Andrew. I don’t need to be blamed for this, too. Besides, you’re Becca’s ride.”
“Becca will survive missing one Sunday.” She’ll hate me for it, though. She really likes Sunday school.
Turning around, Gigi gives me a sarcastic laugh. My heart caves when I see sadness in the gray of her eyes. I thought she was kidding when she said Aunt Judith doesn’t like her. I put her in this position. We should’ve eased the family into it instead of me shouting from the rooftop that she’s mine. Fuck .
“Luke,” she drawls my name out bitterly. “I will not be responsible for a whole generation of Palmers skipping church. Just fucking go.”
“Will you not go to New York tomorrow if I go?” I’d follow her if I could, but I can’t afford the last-minute plane ticket.
The moment I told her last night that I wasn’t going to go to Marble Crest today because I’m still pissed off at my aunt, she had a mental breakdown. Gigi started rambling about how my family already thinks that she was a bad influence on Andrew. The nonsense continued with her pleading with me to go to church tomorrow because she didn’t want to be accused of the same thing with me. After I said no again and we had our first official fight, she took her dad up on his offer and booked a plane ticket so that she could spend the rest of her summer with him.
“I’m going to get on that flight, Luke.” Her voice is breaking, making her sound younger than she actually is. Less confident. I’ve never seen this side of her before. I guess that’s what happens when the mother of your dead ex-boyfriend indirectly blames you for his suicide.
“Gi, please,” I say, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Leaving over something like this is a bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”
I can already feel her slipping away from me. In a big city like that, surrounded by her old friends and millions of people. Would someone else comfort her during a night out when she’s had one too many and decides to spill her heart out? Is someone going to tell her to dump me, the small town nobody?
She has always been out of my league, even without the complications. Is she finally going to realize that once she’s there? Leave me for the guy who’s going to gift her a giant rock during her graduation and whisk her away to her happily ever after?
“You need to spend more time with your family,” she answers coldly. “And I want to see my dad. Maybe some space will do us good.”
“Some space,” I scoff. “That’s just your way of being too chickenshit to break up with me. If this is too hard for you, Gi, just say so. Don’t talk in circles like you’ve been doing for the past two weeks.”
The flash of hurt on her face makes my back go rigid. That and realizing what I just said. I always do this. Self-sabotage when I feel the girl is losing interest in me. Become the dumper before you become the dumpee. This is not some girl you slept with in high school, Luke. This is not Autumn. Shut the fuck up.
“Gi, I didn’t mean it like that.” She says nothing, going back to putting small bottles inside a Ziploc bag. “Talk to me,” I say softly, grabbing her forearm. “Gi, I’m sorry.”
“Maybe we should.” I feel like someone just crushed my heart. “I don’t think I’m a good influence on you. I clearly wasn’t one to Andrew.”
I stare at her, not knowing what to say. At my girlfriend who’s breaking up with me, comparing me to my cousin and using that as an argument. Hurt doesn’t even begin to express what I’m feeling inside.
“Luke! We’re going to be late!” Becca screams from downstairs. “Are we going or not?”
“Just go, Luke.” What the actual fuck? How did my life go from cuddling with her in her dorm to this? But instead of me who’s not giving her the time of day, it’s the other way around. This must be my karma.
“Are you going to be here when I get back?” I ask, my feet planted on the carpet.
“Sure.”
At church, Aunt Judith tries to justify what she said to Gigi, not backing down even for a bit. I start to wonder whether she really sees my girlfriend as someone who’s responsible for Andrew’s downfall, or she just needed a scapegoat. Andrew made his own choices in life. Whatever his reason was, the fucker took it with him. Does she really need to blame Gigi because her son didn’t have the decency to share his reason?
Coming back home, I find her room empty and her suitcase gone. There is a note on the bed addressed to me.
Changed my flight to an earlier one. By the time you read this my phone will probably be off. I’ll text you once I land. We need space, Luke. Fighting sucks.
Love, Gigi
If I wasn’t so mad at Aunt Judith, I would tell her what I know now. Getting a goodbye letter stings as much as not getting one.