The memories, however, come with me.
I don’t remember telling Edward where to go, but when he pulls up in front of Cass’s house in Venice Beach, I know that I must have.
I haven’t called. I haven’t done anything except sit in the back of the limo feeling sorry for myself and fighting tears. Which, of course, is why I’ve ended up at my best friend’s door. Because right now, I can’t bear to go home. I can’t bear to be alone.
I can’t stand the thought of this being the end, but I’m so afraid that it might be.
He told my secret. He broke our trust.
And in doing that, I think he broke my heart, too.
It’s almost midnight, and as I approach the door, I realize that maybe calling would have been a good idea. She could be out. She could be in the middle of a hot date. She could just be asleep.
But she’s none of those things. In fact, she’s right there, pulling the door open and hurrying down her front walk with her arms held out to me, a cell phone in her hand. “God, I’ve been calling and calling.”
“Calling?” I’d turned my phone to silent.
“He called.” She waves Edward off, and as the limo disappears down the street, she leads me inside. I take off my shoes because Cass is a neat freak even in best-friend emergencies, and then let her get me settled on her couch.
She plops down on the coffee table in front of me. “He told me he fucked up. He wants to talk to you, Syl. But mostly, I think he wants to make sure you’re okay.”
She leans forward and peers at me, her elbows on her knees. “Are you?”
I draw in a breath and shake my head. “I don’t know,” I say, and the tears start flowing.
“Oh, sweetie, no.” She’s off the table and at my side immediately, and I curl against her, snuggling close as she holds me and rocks me. She doesn’t say anything, and I’m glad. Right now, I don’t want to talk. I don’t want advice. I don’t want to relive every horrible minute.
I just want to be held. I just want to be comforted.
After a while, though, I just want to sleep, and I stretch out on the couch and pull the warm, soft afghan that Cass found last year at her favorite Goodwill up around my shoulders.
“At least let me pull out the couch for you.”
But I just shake my head. I’m too tired to even move, and as sleep starts to pull me under, I hear her calling someone on the phone. “I don’t know if she’ll be in tomorrow or not. But if she is, it’ll be late. Okay, thanks, Jamie. Just ask Ryan to tell Rachel or whoever needs to know. Sounds good. See you Friday, and let me know if you need any help getting ready for the party.”
I start to tell her that I’m definitely going in to work. I’m not letting my personal life interfere with my job. But somehow, I can’t manage to make the words come. And the next thing I know, there’s a bright light in my eyes and the room smells like coffee.
The bright light, I realize, is from the sun streaming in through the wide-open curtains. And it’s not the entire house that smells like coffee. It’s the mug that is wedged in under my nose.
“Welcome back,” Cass says.
I stretch and yawn. Then I sit up and take the coffee. I sip it slowly and feel my body start to come back to life.
I hear a rattling in the next room and glance across the tiny house to see the louvered doors to the kitchen open and Siobhan emerge, her long legs revealed by running shorts and her wild mass of bright red curls partially hidden under a baseball cap.
“Oh,” I say. “Wow. I’m sorry. Last night. I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t,” Siobhan says. “Don’t worry. We were just hanging out and talking. Besides,” she adds with a bright smile. “I owe you one.”
“We both do,” Cass agrees. She turns back to Siobhan. “You out of here?”
“I thought I’d go for a jog and let you two talk. I’ll call you in an hour or so and see if you’re free for breakfast. If not, maybe we can grab a coffee this evening?”