Chapter 32
I already knew Gabby was lying when she said she loved a road trip, but it’s confirmed during our drive back to Denver.
The forty-eight hours after Tate walked out my door stretched for an eternity and passed by in a blink. Ciara promised to take care of Little Chix and the rest of my ladies, even vowing to leave the chicken coop painted until I came to my senses and moved back.
She didn’t realize this was me coming to my senses.
Patricia was thrilled to put the house back up for sale.
Apparently, the housing market in Celestial isn’t what one would call “booming,” and the renovations I’d done on the house, as niche as they were, still included bringing a bathroom up to code and fixing the wiring.
She assured me that both of those things meant the house would move light-years faster than it did when she sold it to me.
I hope she sells it fast.
I hope she never sells it at all.
And now that I’m officially homeless until I sign a lease for an apartment in Denver, I’m Gabby’s newest houseguest and, unfortunately, the target of a barrage of worried glances and concerned questions.
I’m so grateful that I’ve managed to not destroy one relationship with a person who loves me, but I need her to stop looking at me like I’m going to break.
In better news, however, apparently when you have copies of text messages, emails, undeleted voicemails, and witnesses to a person stalking and harassing you, the courts can work pretty fast. I didn’t even have to wait a week before my restraining order against Jack was granted.
I still haven’t talked to Tate, but I know he was one of the people who vouched for me.
I lie back on Gabby’s couch—that I’m definitely going to have to replace after rotting on it for so long—and glance at the growing number of unread messages on my phone.
There are lots from Ciara and Millie, some from Miss Margaret and Esther filling me in on the gossip I’ve missed at knitting, and then, the ones I try to avoid the most, a few from Tate.
I miss him so much that it physically hurts.
The steady throb that’s been nagging at the base of my neck since he walked out of my door becomes more noticeable as my finger hovers above his name on my phone.
Maybe if I give in and open his message, it will be enough to finally give me some relief.
Just one text couldn’t hurt…
The front door slams open and the frames hanging on the entryway wall rattle precariously as Gabby storms inside.
“Enough!” She throws her tote on the console table and kicks her shoes across the room with the dramatic flair only Gabby could pull off. “I love you. I’m always here for you. But it’s almost been a month and it’s time for you to get your ass up and sort through your life.”
Sheesh.
I know I said I wanted her to stop looking at me like I was going to break, but this feels a little extreme, no?
“Whoa there, killer.” I sit up, ignoring the way my matted hair feels at the back of my head. “I am sorting through life. I told you I have apartment tours scheduled for Monday, and Drew said I can have my job back at the Book Nook the second I’m ready.”
You would think moving back home would be easier than leaving, but the opposite has been true.
Reminders of my old life lurk behind every corner, but even though everything is familiar, nothing feels the same.
The food at my favorite restaurant doesn’t taste as good.
The stores I loved to shop at feel outdated and dull.
I was only gone for a few months, and yet, it feels like lifetimes have passed.
The only place that hasn’t disappointed is Gabby’s couch and it seems like I might be losing that soon too.
“Either you think I don’t know you or you think I’m an idiot.” She twists her hair into a bun on the top of her head and shoves me to the side so she can sit down next to me. “Neither option is great.”
“First of all, I don’t think either of those two things.” I turn to face her and tuck my legs crisscross applesauce. “Second, what is happening? I don’t understand what you’re even talking about. I thought we had a plan and things were moving along nicely.”
Fuck.
Did I manage to ruin the last remaining relationship in my life? I knew my welcome was wearing thin.
“We did,” she says. “But that plan’s not working for me anymore. You can’t stay here.”
My stomach falls to my feet and dread claws at the back of my throat. I should’ve known better than to think Gabby and I could escape this without destroying everything. “What? I didn’t—”
“You did and you’re full of shit.” She cuts me off before I even have the opportunity to be full of shit.
“You think you have me fooled into thinking you’re okay.
You think I don’t hear the constant buzzing of messages on your phone from all the people who, whether you want to admit it or not, care about you and are worried.
You think you can ignore this, but I’m not going to let you. ”
The lump in my throat from fear goes away, but it’s quickly replaced by years’ worth of unshed tears. “Gabby—”
“No!” she says. “The time for that is over. So now you’re going to sit and listen to me, and then, when I’m done, you’re going to get your ass back to Celestial and go talk to Tate, because I love you too much to let you shut him out.”
I’d try to wiggle my way out of this, but it’s too late. She’s using her teacher voice and there’s no changing her mind when she pulls that out. “Fine,” I say. “You can talk, but I’m not too sure about the Celestial part.”
“I don’t care if you’re sure about it,” she says. “I’m getting your ass back down to that cute freaking house you poured yourself into for months, even if it means taking another week off work and suffering through another road trip.”
“So we’re going to play it like that?” I try to sound annoyed, but her aggressive love hit me right in the heart and has left me feeling exposed and defenseless.
“Yeah.” She sits across from me and folds her arms across her chest. “We’re going to play it exactly like that.”
Well, fuck.
What do I say to that?
“Fine.” I pout. “Then I guess we’re talking.”
I hate losing, but for some reason, this feels like it might turn into a win.
“I know you’ve been trying to pretend like that scene that happened with Jack didn’t affect you,” she says, and I hold my breath.
I don’t know why, but I was not expecting her to go back to this.
“You keep acting like you had some big ‘aha moment’ when really, I was there. I saw the look on your face when he brought up your mom, and I can’t ignore the fact that your smile hasn’t reached your eyes once in the entire time since you’ve been back. ”
“Who notices all that?” I ask. “Are you a teacher or a super spy?”
Get a best friend, they said. It will be fun, they said. The liars.
“Neither,” she says. “I’m your best friend who’s let you get away with too much because I’ve been too worried about you to give you the tough love you needed.”
If Gabby thinks she’s treated me with kid gloves, I’m not sure I’m ready for her real talk.
“Fine, I’m ready.” I take a deep breath and brace. “Give it to me.”
“I did you a disservice after your mom died.” The words rush out of her in a single breath. “I should’ve said something when you sold your house and moved, but I thought a fresh start might be what you needed.”
“I thought it was what I needed too,” I say. “I couldn’t stay in that house.”
Ghosts hid on every street corner, painful memories inside every store. Leaving my house became a herculean task, and staying inside added to the growing depression I didn’t know how to address.
“I know that now,” she says. “But you didn’t even try.
You just ran away and buried yourself beneath home renovation projects and chickens and now you’re doing it all over again.
Coming back to Denver won’t change anything.
Diving back into selling books and throwing events and whatever else you come up with to distract you won’t help.
You think that this is you dealing with your grief, when in reality, I don’t think you’ve even scratched the surface of what the last few years did to you. ”
She’s not wrong, but she’s also not right.
I don’t think I’ve dealt with my grief, but I have managed it, and that’s more than I could ask for at this point. “Gabby—”
“No, please.” She holds up a hand and her voice cracks. “Please let me get this out.”
Her chestnut eyes gloss over with unshed tears, and my already shattered heart crumbles to dust.
“Okay,” I say, even though I’m not sure I’m ready for what she’s going to say next.
“You know how much I love your mom. Still, to this day, I love her. I still have the card she gave me for my sixteenth birthday,” she says, and an impossible smile tugs at my mouth at the memory I forgot.
“The time she took us to the Sand Dunes will forever be one of the best weekends of my life. She was so much fun, and I always loved when she would come around and I could laugh with her all over again.”
Every labored breath feels like a knife to my chest, and I hold tight to the pain. It’s so much easier to feel than the emotions threatening to rip me to shreds.
“She loved you too.”
“I know she did,” she says, and the tears welling in her eyes start to fall. “But I also know that the Lisa who died is not the Lisa I loved, and I know that even before she disappeared, the Lisa I loved was never without her flaws.”
My eyes burn and I squeeze them shut, willing a tear to fall like they are falling for Gabby. “I—”
“No,” she says. “I know that you told me some of the things she put you through, but I’m your best friend.
Do you really think I didn’t know that even when she was dragging you through the mud, you were still protecting her?
Do you think I couldn’t see the shadows that eclipsed your light as you hid the secrets that were never yours to begin with?
I let you have that because I knew you needed to do what you felt was necessary to protect her while she was here, but she’s gone now.
It’s time to unburden yourself of the heavy load that’s been wearing you down to nothing. ”
I love Gabby. I know how blessed, favored, and lucky I am to have someone who has seen me through almost every stage of my life by my side. But, fuck, it really is impossible to hide anything from her.
“I didn’t mean to hide it from you,” I choke out through the tears that still won’t fucking fall. “I didn’t want to taint the way you thought about her.”
She leans across the couch and clasps my hands in hers.
“I know. I don’t blame you for not telling me everything.
Even though she hurt you, you still loved her.
And as someone who’s been lucky enough to receive your love, I know how much you give to us.
I know how hard you are on yourself. Which is why, right here, right now, I’m giving you permission…
No,” she corrects herself, “I’m demanding that you let it go.
I’m demanding that you acknowledge that even though you went above and beyond for your mom, you can’t save somebody who doesn’t want to be saved.
I’m demanding that you accept that it’s okay to be relieved that she’s gone and you no longer have to worry about whether she’s safe or getting in the car drunk.
I’m demanding that you acknowledge that you’re her daughter while knowing you’re nothing like her.
You’re allowed to mourn the woman you loved while being angry at the person who died.
You can hold both, and I hope, for your sake, you finally do. ”
Her tearstained cheeks flush, and if I didn’t feel like I was about to pass out, I’d tell her how unfair it is that she’s a pretty crier on top of every other wonderful thing about her.
“You know, it’s kind of rude to attack your houseguest like this.” It still hurts to breathe, but something comes loose in my chest. “But I guess I’m glad you did.”
“Damn straight you are.” She swipes away the tears rolling down her face like streams of glitter. “Now you’re going to get your cute butt together and back to Celestial, because I’m not letting you run. Not again.”
And as if conjured by the magic of a best friend determined to keep me from self-destructing (for a second time), my phone starts to ring.
A Texas number I don’t recognize is on the screen.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Luna, hi!” Patricia’s heavy Southern drawl rolls through the phone.
“I’m having some issues with my phone, so I’m sorry to call you from a different number, but I just had to let you know the great news.
We have a buyer for your home!” she says, and for what feels like the millionth time over the last month, by heart falls to my feet. “But there is just one small problem.”
“There is?” I ask, scared to feel hope.
“I’m going to need you back in Celestial for this to go through,” she says. “Is there any way you could be here by Monday?”
I think of the apartment tours I have planned and the lunch meeting with Drew.
I’ll cancel them all.
“Of course,” I say. “I’ll see you then.”
And when I hang up, the sadness has fled from Gabby’s eyes, not a trace of concern lingering on her face as she reaches across the couch and pulls me in for a hug.
“I love you, Gabby,” I whisper as I hold her tight. “I hope you know that.”
“I do,” she says, pulling away to look right into my eyes. “I also know I’m not the only person who should hear those words from you.”
She’s not wrong.
I only hope Tate wants to listen.