It took even longer as I watched her crawl onto her bed, dangling off the side for a second to pull her notebook and pen out of her bag, but then setting it in her lap and settling in.
“I think you’re the only person in the world who misses the old version of me,” I said when I finally remembered.
She uncapped her pen and peered up at me as I sat against the edge of her desk.
“Yeah, I really doubt that’s true,” she said easily as she opened her notebook, flipping to the latest page before writing something in.
My eyebrows moved. I knew what I’d said was right, but she’d been so confident in her assertion just now that I couldn’t help but ask, “Why?”
“Because you were the best,” she said without looking up, making me smirk. She finished what she was writing, dotting her sentence with a period before looking at me. “I mean you might’ve been a little wild—” I didn’t realize I’d already started shaking my head till she cut off. “Okay, a lot wild,” she correc
ted. “But—”
“Stop,” I cut her off gently, my voice easy but my heart already beating a little faster in my chest. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Do what?”
I paused.
“Talk about me like…” Like I was actually a good person. I swallowed before I found a way to finish my sentence. “Like I was so great.”
She gave me a look. “I’m not saying any of this to boost your ego, Iain. I’m just telling you the truth.”
“Your truth,” I said.
“Still valid,” she countered.
I quieted. She sounded suddenly a bit terse and I didn’t want to upset her. No matter what I believed.
So for the next few moments, I just watched her write in silence. But I could feel it in the air that I wasn’t off the hook. That she was thinking hard right now. Remembering.
She didn’t look up as she asked, “Why did you leave?”
I swallowed.
She was talking about five years ago. When I up and disappeared.
From her life. From mine.
It took me awhile to find my answer, but she didn’t rush me, only peering up once between writing.
“I needed to get away from the person I was,” I finally said.
“Why is that?”
I paused again. Drew in a deep breath. I didn’t realize I’d zoned out on Holland’s notebook in her lap till I looked up to find her eyes on me.
“Because I couldn’t defend that person anymore,” I answered.
She frowned. “We’ve all done bad things before, Iain,” she said, and just as the thought crossed my mind, she said, “I know you don’t think I have, but I have.”
“Like what?” I asked.
She just looked at me for a second. “You never did anything that terrible,” she said, decidedly skipping my question. “I mean you and Adam were the same. You did all the same things, and look at him. He didn’t feel like he had to change.”
I shook my head. “Adam has changed,” I asserted. “You can’t keep getting into bar fights, getting arrested for reckless driving and keep your high profile job at Engelman. Trust me on this, Holland. The things we did, the way we were—it wasn’t a sustainable way to live. At all.”
Her eyebrows lifted a little and stayed that way as she sat cross-legged on her bed, taking in the words I’d spoken with hotter insistence than I’d intended.