How the fuck did I get myself into this mess?
“Listen to me,” Willow says calmly. Her coolness is such a stark contrast to Layla’s hysterics. “If I was Sable in a past life, I am not anymore. I’m Willow. And I could never do what Sable did to you and Layla. If you want to leave, I’m going to let you leave. But . . .”
I shake my head. “I don’t even want to hear what you have to say. I want to leave.”
She holds up a hand. “Please. Just let me say this.” She takes two steps forward, slowly. “If I was Sable, then there’s a reason I’m here. You’ve watched all the movies with me. You know all the theories. Why is Sable stuck here, Leeds? Maybe she needs your forgiveness. Or maybe you need hers? I don’t know, but if you leave, we’ll never figure that out. And you’ll go the rest of your life knowing that ghosts exist, and you might be the reason one of them is stuck here. This is going to follow us forever. Both of us.”
I shift my weight to my other leg. “I’ve been trying to help you figure this out since we started talking! You’re the one who didn’t want to know anything, Willow! Now you want my help? After I find out you’ve been lying to me for weeks?”
“I wasn’t lying. I didn’t know,” she says. “I thought it was all just chaos inside Layla’s head, because I don’t have memories at all when I’m not in her head. I still don’t know for sure. Your theory makes sense, but it doesn’t feel right. There’s something off about it.” She steps closer again. I don’t step back this time because part of me only sees Willow when I look at her, and that part of me still feels bad for her.
But not bad enough to stay.
I point at her. “You’re the reason this happened, whether you remember it or not. You’re the reason Layla almost died. I will not be the reason you ultimately kill her. Get out of her and stay out of her.”
She’s still calm, but now there are silent tears spilling down her cheeks. “I don’t know why I’m here. But I’m here, and wherever this is, I don’t feel like an evil person. I feel good and I feel honest. I am not whoever Sable was in her life. I feel like me. Like Willow. I’m the girl you’ve been watching movies with and eating leftovers with and spending time with. I’m the girl you kissed on that bed last night. Me. Not Sable. Not Layla. Willow.”
I clench my teeth. “Willow doesn’t exist. It’s a name you made up.”
She closes the gap between us and takes my face in her hands, her eyes full of desperation. “I do exist. I’m right here. I’m standing right in front of you.”
I can’t look at her while she’s crying like this. I spin around and rest my hands on my hips. I drop my head, unsure of what to do next. An entire minute goes by, and she just stands behind me, crying quietly.
I don’t know what to do. I stare at the driveway, knowing that’s the direction I should be going. But why is my internal compass pulling me in the opposite direction? Why am I even struggling with this decision? Why do I still feel drawn to stay here when she’s the reason we’re in this mess to begin with?
“Leeds?” she finally says. “Just . . . go.”
I spin around, and Willow is looking at me, completely defeated. She waves toward the car. “Go. This isn’t right. We shouldn’t be doing this to Layla anyway. Go, get married, buy her a different house, have babies, be famous and shit. Be happy.” She wipes the areas beneath her eyes with her fingers. “I want you to be happy. I promise I won’t stop you when you leave with her this time, if that’s what you want.”
I study her for a moment, unsure what to believe.
And why the hell do I still feel bad for her?
I walk over and pick up one of the suitcases. Then the other. I walk them to the car and shut them in the trunk. She’s standing at the driver’s-side door.
I pause a few feet from her, watching her cautiously.
“Do me a favor?” she says. “Will you email that man and ask him to come here anyway? I need to figure this out now. I don’t want to be here anymore.”
Those words, and the agonizing way she said them, settle in my chest.
I don’t want to be here anymore.
I clear my throat. “I’ll email him tonight.”
She smiles gently, and her lips are trembling when she whispers, “Thank you.” Another tear falls out of her eye, and she looks up and to the right, her face pained. “I hope you have a good life.”