Page 66 of The Enemy Plot
I swallow hard and force a smile. “Of course.”
Within seconds, her shaky grin falls, and her eyes brim with tears. “I’m so sorry.”
She bursts into sobs, and I take a step forward to draw her into a hug. She squeezes me hard. That’s when I know she really needed one. So, I give her the best mama bear hug I can manage.
“It’s all my fault.” Her voice is muffled in the fabric of my blouse.
My heart breaks further. “Oh, honey, it's not,” I say, pulling back to take her face into my hands. “Don’t get me wrong. What you did was terribly wrong, and please, Ibegyou, never do that again. We were all scared to death.”
She nods.
“But the things your uncle said to me, and us breaking up, is not your fault. Relationships are complicated. But don’t think for a second that you’re to blame, okay?”
She stares at the floor. “Okay. For what it’s worth, he’s devastated. I hear him tossing and turning all night, and he’s grumpier than usual. He kind of just turned off.”
“Oh.” I always thought I was a nice girl, but I might be evil after all, because a tiny part of me is glad that he’s miserable too.
“So.” She bites her lip. “I’m still welcome here?”
I furrow my eyebrows, drawing her into another hug. “Of course. As long as it’s okay with your uncle,” I add, the words burning my throat.
We break our embrace, and she mumbles, “It is. This is pretty much the only place I’m allowed to go to besides school.”
Maybe I’m not that immature after all if he allows his niece to come in here. He must trust me at least a little bit if—no. Not going there. Our relationship is over. Thinking that I could be the sunshine to his grump was a bad idea. I knew I didn’t like that trope. And now, I’ll never read it again. Those things work great in books and movies, but in real life, it’s a completely different story.
26
Listen
Deacon
I’m currently slumped on the couch, pretending to watch TV when really, I’m wallowing about my life and finding new combinations of words to express how much I hate myself. I’m deep in this latest session of self-loathing when Lola quietly enters the apartment.
“Hey. I’m home.”
“Hey,” I say simply.
“Isaw Alice today,” she continues, her voice softer than usual. She doesn’t even dare to look at me. “She’s sad, really sad."
The lump that has taken residence in my throat grows. Soon, I won’t be able to breathe at all.
“Kind of like you,” Lola adds, finally mustering the courage to meet my gaze. I can tell she feels guilty about Alice and me breaking up, but it’s not her fault. It’s mine alone.
“It's a shame. You belong together,” she continues. “I think she loves you. Maybe—”
“Dammit, Lola!” I pound my fist on the table. “This isn’t a romance novel, it’s real life, with real people and real feelings.”
She gulps. “I just think it’s dumb that you're both suffering . . . You should talk to her.”
“I can’t. And even if I could, she doesn’t want to talk to me.” Every time I glimpse her outside the shop, I try, but she leaves before I can form a coherent word. “What we had is over. I blew it.” Love never was in the cards for me anyway.
Lola shakes her head in a determined way that reminds me of Amelia. “Then make her listen. You can’t just give up.”
With that, she takes her backpack and marches into her room.
My head is spinning faster than ever. Especially since she said Alicelovesme. How could Lola even know that?Could she?
I get up and start pacing.I wish I was in Sycamore Springs right now so I could go for a run around the lake, clear my head. Figure this out. Figure out if there’s even anything to figure out, or if it’s already too late.