Page 27 of The Lucky One

“Lovely, I can’t come home with you.”

“Why not?” I asked, but she didn’t say anything.

I followed her inside. It was a strange place, with a leather sofa. I didn’t like leather sofas; they were cold, not cozy like our couch in our living room. “Where are we, Mama?”

She sat down on the cold couch next to me. “Lovely, you probably don’t know this, but your father and I don’t get along anymore.”

“I know that you fight. But Lucas told me it’s normal,” I said proudly.

“You knew? And Lucas...” My mother shook her head. “Never mind. What I’m trying to say is...” She swallowed, and tears rushed to her eyes.

I frowned. I hated seeing Mama cry. “Mama, what is it?”

She inhaled deeply, then cupped my face the way I liked it. “Your father and I, we decided to go our separate ways.”

I gasped, trying to understand. “You’re going away?” My heart pounded. I couldn’t be without Mama.

“No, lovely. I just can’t come home with you anymore.”

I looked around. This place didn’t look like she was living here. “Then where is your home?”

She bit her lip, tears dripping down her chin. Quickly she wiped them away. “I’m staying here. It’s from Richard, a really nice man. One day you’ll meet him.”

I pinched my brows. This didn’t make sense. She was with Papa; why would she live with someone else? “Why can’t I meet him now? And why can’t you come home with me?”

And then I cried. Yesterday, her, Lucas, and I had dinner like usual. Papa was in his office. It was like every other night. Why had it changed?

“Your father won’t let me, lovely. I’m so sorry.” She patted me gently. “It’s not your fault. I tried to stay as long as I could, but I can’t anymore. I hope you can forgive me.”

Forgive her? My head was spinning, and I didn’t know what to say or do.

I curled up on the couch. “My stomach hurts,” I said, and Mama wrapped me in a blanket and brought me a strange herbal tea I didn’t like. My brother eventually got there too. That night we watched Finding Nemo, and for a little while, everything felt normal again.

Now...

I turned my pillow over, seeking the cooler side. The temperature had gone up in the past few days. I’d caught myself dreaming about Paul again.

Stop thinking about him, I told myself. Keeping him out of my thoughts was the key to moving on.

Yet lying here in the dark, I couldn’t help but wonder where all those intense feelings were supposed to go when you were no longer with someone. For me, they didn’t simply vanish. They lingered. I missed him—not as my boyfriend, but as my friend.

The pillow was warm again. In an instant I saw the wave coming at me—fear, anxiety, a troubling memory. I sat up so quickly that my bed creaked beneath me.

“Not again,” I whispered, closing my eyes and pressing my hands against the sides of my head to block out the overwhelming sensations. Today was good, I reminded myself, and my heartbeat gradually returned to a more manageable pace.

In fact, it had been more than good; it had been magical. Being with Jon was such a high. And I went through withdrawal after every kiss goodbye.

He was serious about being a good boyfriend, and I was surprised at how well he was handling it so far. Even when we went through a little hiccup, he didn’t shy away from me. The way he apologized to Gena and Henry with such sincerity, looked at me with such care—my heart bloomed like the beginning of spring. Henry hit him with question after question and practiced his would-be evil glare (which I had to admit had gotten better since I’d moved in, but still wasn’t entirely serious). Gena reminded him about the rules, and Jon promised to make sure I followed them. Especially the no-sex-before-I’m-on-birth-control one. Now he was welcome at the Shields’ place too... but I doubted we’d be spending much time here, seeing we might run into Paul.

I couldn’t understand why Jon still wouldn’t talk to him. He had assured me he’d write me more journal entries, but until then I had to be patient.

I couldn’t blame him. I hadn’t shown him my latest ones either. And I hadn’t mentioned that Henry, Gena and I were researching ways for me to stay in America. So far we hadn’t made much progress. But Henry had a friend from college who knew everything about visas and would be getting in touch soon.

If I was feeling this weird after coming down from an emotional high, I could only imagine what Jon must be going through after that awkward encounter with his best friend. I reached for my phone to check on him. But when I tapped the screen, it stayed black. My charger had been acting up lately, and I had to fold it a certain way for it to connect. It must’ve shifted out of place. I sighed in frustration and plugged it in again, but nothing happened. I groaned. I desperately needed to text Jon, to know he was fine, to dive into another emotional high.

Paul had a charger, and I knew where he kept it.

Peeking out the window: his car was still gone. I crept through the hallway and down the stairs to his room.