Chapter 8
THE GUARDIAN
She’s perfect.
I shouldn’t be surprised. We’ve been friends for almost two years now, so I know her pretty well.
Still, I’m not naive enough to believe everything I see on the internet is real.
People pretend to be something they’re not all the time.
You think you’re bonding with a fellow Taylor Swift fan you can swap friendship bracelets with, but instead it’s a forty-seven year old geezer who wants you to send him topless photos.
Men are such a disappointment.
Deep, deep down, I was afraid she would be, too. Never meet your heroes, right? But Lennon isn’t my hero. She’s my friend.
But I’ve been fooled by people before. I’ve been hurt and betrayed by people who claimed to love me.
Sometimes the loss still ached, deep and low in my belly.
The doctor said that wound had fully healed, and whatever pain I feel now, it’s all in my head.
But when I look down at my body, the scar is still an angry red above my pubic hair.
I know, deep in my bones, that the pain won’t heal until that scar is a pale silvery line.
I rub silicon gel across the six inch line the way Lennon told me to do before settling into my bed to watch my favorite TV show.
Vitamin E oil doesn’t really work, apparently, and neither does cocoa butter, no matter what the influencers try to sell you.
Lennon knows all kinds of stuff like that from working with makeup artists as a model.
It’s one of the things I like about her, that she doesn’t gatekeep shit like that.
She’s a girl’s girl. The older sister I never had.
And now she’s here. She’s really here. Maybe I should be surprised that this is all working out so perfectly—it’s not like anything else in my life has ever gone to plan—but I’m not. I feel peaceful. Like I’m finally on the right path. Everything is falling into place. Finally.
She’s so happy here. I knew she would be.
It’s exhausting working the way she does, sharing so much of herself.
All these men watching her videos, saying disgusting things to her, they don’t deserve her.
They don’t understand her—and they’re dangerous.
She doesn’t realize that, but I do. I know exactly what men are capable of, and I’m not going to let them hurt her.
Mercy River. It was the name that called me here two years ago, broken and desperate. This town and this ranch are my safe haven. She feels the same way. I know it.
Someday, when I tell her everything, she’ll thank me for being her guardian angel. The one person who truly saw her.
I settle back into my nest of pillows and blankets as the theme song plays. The four women embrace, comforting and protecting each other against the world.
That’s going to be us. Friends forever, long after the romantic relationships fade. We’re going to grow old together. Like soul mates.