I look over at her.
“Just wanted to check on you. Your mom called when you didn’t answer her call or text.”
I reach into my purse. “I forgot to take my phone off airplane mode. Sorry. I’ll text her.”
“No worries, but—”
“Oh my gosh. It’s eleven o’clock?” I’ve been talking nonstop for three hours.
“It is,” Carrie says around a weary smile. These past hours have no doubt been hard on her, too.
“I’m sorry I kept you up. I had a lot I wanted to tell him.” I notice I have two more texts from Vaughn before tucking my phone away. “I’ll say good night and then head home.”
“Sounds good. Brian will drive you.”
“That’s okay. I can walk.” I did it all the time when younger, and our gated community is safe even at this hour. Before she turns to go, I jump to my feet and hurry to hug her. “Thank you so, so much for letting me see him,” I mumble.
She squeezes me back. “You’re welcome.”
When I return to Mason, his eyes are closed, so I focus on the rise and fall of his chest as I speak. “I have to go now. Sorry doesn’t begin to cover what I feel, but I think you know that. You know, because if we were to change places, I’d know. I’d know it was a terrible, unfortunate accident and never blame you. And I wouldn’t want you to punish yourself. I’d want you to move forward and live your best life. I’d never begrudge you that.” I wipe under my runny nose. “Thanks for being the best boyfriend a girl could ask for. You were everything to me and I’m really glad I got to see and talk to you tonight. Please know you’ll forever hold a special place in my heart, and I’ll always love you.” He makes a sound. It’s small and incoherent, but it’s the most beautiful utterance I’ve ever heard.
“Good-bye,” I whisper, dropping a kiss on his forehead as I stand to go.
On the walk home, a sense of peace settles in my soul. Mason will always own parts of my heart—the first boyfriend part, the first kiss part. First love. But he won’t be the last, and that’s okay. He loved me, too. He wanted me to be brave, and strong, and smart. He’d want me to live my life.
A light breeze tousles my hair. A full moon lights the sky. Fireflies perform acrobatics in my periphery. I pause on the sidewalk to reminisce about kissing him under the trees, picnicking on the grass, and laughing and chasing each other with Super Soakers. We shared so much, and for that I’m grateful.
My parents are asleep when I get home. I change into a nightshirt, use the new toothbrush Mom left out for me, wash my face, and crawl under the covers of my bed. My phone is almost out of charge when I pull up Vaughn’s texts. I hope you’re okay, his last one says. Please let me know.
I remember now that he’s in San Francisco. That he’d wanted me to join him there. His concern—even when working out of town—hits me in susceptible places. I should make a clean break where he’s concerned, for both our sakes, but there’s nothing clean about letting him worry. I’m okay. Flew home for the weekend. Thanks for checking.
Three tiny dots immediately wave back, and just like that I discover it’s possible for a heart to soar and sink at the same time. I wasn’t expecting an immediate response.
Talk tomorrow? It’s late there and you’re probably tired.
Exhausted is more like it. Now that I’m cozied up under my down comforter, I’m minutes away from falling asleep.
I don’t think that’s a good idea, I text back. Understatement of the ages. It’s like tearing fresh stitches from a deep wound.
Tomorrow, angel.
Two little words bring back the soaring, sinking sensation. I refuse to jeopardize his career, but—my willpower at an all-time low, I put my phone aside—I’ll find the strength to
stand firm tomorrow. My eyes droop closed in an instant, and my mind wanders back to this morning and replays every horrible second of the conversation between Vaughn and his dad. The next thing I know sunlight streams through the slats of the shutters on my window and I blink awake, unsure of what the day will bring.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kendall
The smell of homemade waffles lures me into the kitchen. I pad into the room to find Mom at the stove and Dad at the square wood table reading the newspaper. “Good morning.”
“There she is.” Dad puts down the paper and stands. “Get over here and give your father a hug, Kenny.”
“Hi, Dad.” I walk into his arms, his familiar scent always comforting.
“How was your visit with Mason?” Mom asks over Dad’s shoulder.
“Incredibly special…and incredibly difficult.”