Chapter 44
Forty-Four
Remnants of souls longing for one another.
Those are the words that won’t leave my brain alone.
Fran and the Red Tails’ schedule have given me three days to gather what I want to say and what I want to ask.
Three days to pray that I’m strong enough for all this.
Three days to meditate and prepare so that I don’t spiral into another hospitalizing panic attack.
And yet, for three days I’ve thought about souls. Souls longing for souls.
I don’t know Zev very well—at least not as well as my former self did. But my soul knows him. That is getting harder and harder to deny.
The others are getting to Fran’s at seven, so I’m arriving at six.
And I’ve decided to be brave. I’m trying something new tonight. I push open the door to Fran’s house without one little knock.
And there’s Callum in a dress shirt and… boxer shorts.
“Whoa,” he says, hands falling in front of those black-and-white soccer-themed boxers. “Hey there.”
“OH MY GOSH,” I bellow, slapping a hand over my eyes. “I’m so sorry.” I back up and run right into the wall. “Fran told me to walk in!” I yell, throwing my bestie right under the bus.
“Rosalie,” Fran says, suddenly in the room. I peek through the crack of my fingers to see her striding toward me. “Honey, you might want to put pants on. You’re startling Rosalie.”
“I’m leaving. I’m sorry. Sorry, Cal!” I cup a hand around my eyes, shielding me from Fran’s half-dressed husband. I swear, I am that ultra-strong magnet, only I’m attracting men in their undies these days. “You said to just walk in, so I decided to walk in and—”
“You’re fine. You are not leaving.”
“I should have knocked!” I say, hand still up around my face.
Fran pulls my hand down, giving me a full view of her living room, of her half-dressed husband. “No need to knock.”
“Maybe a small need,” Callum says, hiding behind the couch. However, the top of those boxers is in full view.
“Or you could just put pants on,” Fran says. “It’s not our friends’ fault you like to walk around in your underwear. Or better yet, get over it. You have great legs, babe.”
Callum clears his throat. “Right. Well, I think for now, I’ll go find my pants.”
“Good choice,” Fran says, kissing his cheek.
“Is this crazy?” I ask Fran the minute that her husband has left the room.
Because she’s Fran, she knows exactly what I’m referring to, and it’s not Cal’s undies. “Not at all. I’m just glad you’re ready. It’s been more than seven months. There are a lot of people who miss you.”
I fist and shake out my fingers at my side. “Right. How many people did you invite to come over?” I possibly should have put a limit on it. Fran has been known to go overboard… on everything.
“Including me? Seven. Just our closest friends from the past couple years.” She wraps an arm around my shoulders. “I thought we’d start small. We’ll see how this goes and branch out.”
Small? Small is one or two. Not seven.
“Who?” I manage to say, my heart rate ticking rapidly in my neck and wrists.
“Me—see easy.” She grins. “Callum—he’s another easy one.”
“And?” I’m waiting for Zev’s name. She said she’d invite him.
That was sort of the whole point of this.
Or at least half the point. Part of the point is absolutely me being brave.
Meeting new-old friends. Stretching myself.
But a big part of this night is Zev and my soul.
Grammy has convinced me that I must pay attention to my soul.
“Stella,” Fran snaps, “whom you’ve already met! So semi-easy.”
Less comfortable, but not a bad start, because Fran’s right. I’ve met her a couple times now. She’s nice. She does seem like someone we’d be friends with.
“Her husband Roman. He’s a Red Tail, too.” She’s ticking off on her fingers. Only three left. “Lucca Cruz, another Red Tail—”
“It’s like we’re infested,” I mutter. I lose a few measly years and Fran gets us involved with an entire professional soccer team.
“And his girlfriend Maggie. She lives in Canyon Falls and is a referee for the MLS. They’ll be engaged any day now.” She lifts her finger. “Ooo, you met her at the game!”
“ML what?” I say, the pit in my stomach growing wider.
“Major League Soccer.”
“Aw. More soccer. I’m assuming we’ve become fans.”
“Big fans,” she says.
“That’s only six.” I’m waiting for the one name I know and miss and think about most of the time.
“Right. Zev is coming, too.”
I swallow. He’s coming. That’s what I’ve been waiting for—confirmation that he agreed to come. “Is he mad at me?” I say, my tone just above a whisper.
“Mad at you? Sweetie, why would he be mad at you?”
“Because I don’t know how to handle all this. Because I liked him, and then I found out the truth and backed off. Because he’s been hurting for seven months because of me.”
Fran’s eyes crease. “Rosalie.” She shakes her head, leads me to the couch, and forces me to sit next to her. “No one is mad at you. This isn’t something that any of us completely understand. Of course you have confused feelings. We’re all learning how to navigate this.”
“I am confused.” My heart patters and I tell myself to breathe. Just breathe. No one’s even here yet. My panic has to at least wait until the strangers who call themselves friends arrive. “The thing is, I like him, Fran. A lot.”
She nods like she understands, but her narrowed brow tells me she doesn’t completely.
“But I thought we were on the same playing field, that we were beginning in the exact same place. Intense—yes. Stronger than comprehendible—oh yeah. But the same. We were both getting over someone. This was new and wonderful for both of us. When all this time, he was light years ahead of me.”
“Technically just two years ahead of you.”
I square my body, facing her better. “Two years that I don’t have. And what if I disappoint him? What if I can’t live up to these grand memories he has?”
She holds my right hand in both of hers now. “I don’t think that’s possible. And if you’re ready for honesty—”
I nod. Ready? Who knows? Here for it—yes.
“Zev will wait an eternity for you to choose him.”
The weight of those words hits hard. I can’t be in charge of someone else’s happiness to that magnitude. I can’t be the reason someone else waits that long. That sounds terrible.
“I need a minute,” I say, standing and pulling my hand from her grasp.
She stands, too. “Um. Okay.” But I’m already out of the room.
I need to stretch out. I need to breathe. I need to back up a few days when I told Fran this was a good idea. Instead, I lay in the tub in Fran’s guest bathroom, resting my head against the porcelain. I pull in deep breaths through my nose and count as I exhale through my mouth.
From the hard but comfy space of Fran’s tub, I text my therapist. She gave me an emergency number. I might as well use it.
Me: Dr. Case, this is Rosalie.
Me: When did I become responsible for the happiness of everyone around me?
Janet Case: Are you okay? Are you in the hospital?
Janet Case: Are you going to hurt yourself?
Me: No. I’m in a friend’s bathtub. Fully dressed. I’m waiting for company. Strangers are coming over. I don’t know them, but they all know me.
Janet Case: You’re choosing to be brave.
Me: Or stupid. I don’t know which. Because are you ready for the biggest bomb drop of all?
Janet Case: I’m ready.
Me: Zev wasn’t a stranger. He was my boyfriend. He proposed to me the night of the accident. I just don’t remember any of it. Or him.
Janet Case: That’s quite the bomb drop.
Me: And apparently Zevulun is going to wait for eternity until I’m ready for a relationship. What if I’m never ready? What if he’s miserable forever because I can’t figure out my life or my feelings or my memories?
Janet Case: You’re spiraling. Take a breath.
Me: See? Emergency.
Janet Case: Yes. I see.
Janet Case: Rosalie, think about what you’re saying. The happiness of everyone is riding on your shoulders? That’s a heavy responsibility. Is it truly yours?
Me: It feels like it is. Eternity is a long time.
Janet Case: You can only control your own choices, Rosalie. Not his. Not anyone’s. The fact is, no one’s happiness is on your shoulders. If he chooses to wait, that’s not on you.
I sit with that for a minute.
She’s right. I’m sure she is. Except what if she’s not?
And then I text Grammy.
Me: Would Zev really wait an eternity for me? What if I’m never ready?
Grammy: Yes, he would. You will be ready though. No eternity needed.
Me: Grammy!
Grammy: Trust yourself. Trust your feelings. Trust your soul, angel granddaughter. Don’t let the cloudy past ruin your bright future.
I’m so glad I taught Grammy to text.
I blink my eyes closed and will myself to remember the last six years. Anything. Anything at all. One second would suffice.
But all of my visions of Zev are from the last few months.
Zev at the café.
Zev reading.
Zev chatting with Partida.
Zev at the bookstore, talking about romance novels.
Zev defending me and all teachers to Robert.
Zev in tears.
Kissing Zev.
Holding Zev.
Laughing with Zev.
My soul searching for his.
There’s a rap on the bathroom door.
“Rose?” Fran says. “Everyone is here.”