His voice is gentle. “Hey, I know you’re probably headed back to the hospital in the morning, and Richard’s place is another fifteen minutes from here. Do you just want to sleep here?”
On the one hand, it’s logistically right. On the other, do I want to spend more time with him? Right now, logic wins over the bubbling emotions inside me. “Probably not a bad idea. I can’t call Richard until the morning anyway to let him know where I am.”
He nods. “Okay. Ready to see Templeton again?”
A grin turns up my lips. “You mean the rat? Brodie, you know how I feel about crappy little dogs. You remember that mean little rat Granny had.”
“Excuse you. Templeton is not like other rats.”
I giggle and we get out of the car. We climb the stoop next to Skye’s coffee shop, their grandpa’s old hardware store. He unlocks the door and pushes it open, revealing the staircase to his apartment. “After you.”
We climb the stairs and doggie nails clack as Templeton comes to greet us. Okay, he’s a rat, but I can’t say no to those precious eyes. I lower to my knees and scratch his chin.
“Hi, little guy.” My fingers pass gently over the bald patches on him. “These are all burns?”
Brodie hangs my keys on his hook, folds his arms, and leans against the wall in the hallway. “Yeah. I’ve made sure he’s had a good run of it since we got him out of there.”
I pout. “Poor little baby.”
Brodie seems antsy. “You can get ready for bed first. I’ll have to shower so I’ll take longer. There should be an extra toothbrush in the right drawer, and if you need any clothes, just take them.”
“Oh, right. Thanks. Yeah, it’s late.” I rise and he points me to the bathroom.
If I wasn’t so tired and distraught about Granny, this would be prime snooping time. Open access to a guy’s bathroom? Jackpot. But I’m just tired. As I wash my hands, I examine myself in the mirror. Sunken, tired eyes, puffy from crying. Hair that could probably do for a brushing. Brodie’s bathroom is well-appointed, but not overly so. Tidy. Soap, a clean hand towel. A little cubby thing with bath towels and washcloths. I bend to open the drawer where he said I might find a toothbrush, making me lean against the counter. When I do, paper crinkles.
Oh, right. The note.
I put toothpaste on my toothbrush and unfold the note with one hand. My brushing significantly slows as I take in the details.
Ari,
First things first: I’m sorry.
I should have apologized a thousand times by now, and I’m sorry that even this apology is late. I hate what I did to you, both when Kyle was there and when I did worse to you, every single fall.
You were more than my summer girl. You were the one who held my secrets, who knew the real me. My first crush, my first kiss, my first rush into what should have been love, but was definitely my closest friendship. But I didn’t treat you that way, and that was maybe my greatest mistake in life.
I wish I could take it back. I wish I would have been better to you.
I meant what I said to you the other night. I should have chosen you every time because you deserve to be chosen. I was the lucky one because you extended your heart to me. You are, and always have been, a beautiful, brilliant person.
I need to apologize for not being able to say this to your face when I’ve had so many chances in the last week. I hope I still get the chance to. It’s no excuse, but I think I hate what I did so much that I freeze. Some childish part of me wants to hide from or deny what I did, because maybe if we don’t talk about it, it’ll undo the damage.
But you don’t have the luxury of hiding from those memories, and I shouldn’t get to either. Back then, I told myself it wasn’t that bad. I didn’t get why you didn’t want to hang out with me anymore. I thought I’d see you the next day in the woods and everything would be like it always was.
I get it now. I’m so sorry.
Aria, you owe me nothing in response to this, and I’ll understand if you don’t want to acknowledge it. But I hope that maybe this can be the start of us building a stronger future together, and for me to give you a reason to trust me again.
Brodie
I’m numb as I rinse my toothbrush and set it neatly next to the sink. The paper shakes in my hands. This week has been full of so many emotions: the turmoil of returning home, working on something new with Richard, figuring out my complicated relationship with Granny, and whatever has been going on withthe author of this note. The note that he left on Richard’s porch, delivered sometime in the night before he dropped everything to go help Granny.
All I know as I wrap my fingers around the doorknob to leave the bathroom is that he’s still my Brodie.
FIFTEEN
BRODIE
