“By Finn and Brady?”
She nods. “All of it, but definitely by them.”
I wave my hand flippantly, but on the inside my body is anything but flippant. The possibility of seeing Finn and Brady has my stomach in knots. Feeling the need to defend the three us, I say, “We were teenagers. We took turns hurting each other.” It seems like so long ago, yet I can pluck up the memories as if they’re perpetually lying in wait for me to call on them.
“You still love them. You always have. And I’m sure they still love you.”
“Yes.” Our souls are connected, our hearts formed by the shared experience of growing up together.
“But—”
I shake my head and Laine falls silent. “I won’t go back there without them.” It’s the simple truth. Finn and Brady own every memory I have in Agua Mesa. The good, the bad, and the hideous. And going back now means I’ll need them more than ever.
Laine holds up her palms. “Fine,” she shakes her head resolutely. “I hope this ends well for you.”
The fear lying dormant in my belly begins to stir. I knew we’d reach this eventuality, and now it’s here.
I’ll go home to Agua Mesa. I’ll face whatever it is waiting for me there, including the love triangle we left behind. I can’t go home without them, even when I know it will force us all into a situation we’ve been running from for so long.
Will I finally choose between Brady and Finn?
2
Now
I’ve been staringat my phone for three minutes, the pretty green succulents staring back at me. If this was ahey how are you doingcall, I wouldn’t be nervous. But this is apoint of no returncall. I think my nerves are justified.
It’s been eight years since we’ve all been together. In the beginning, we didn’t aim to be apart for so long. It happened naturally, the way a river freezes over drop by drop. College was more demanding than we anticipated it would be, and with none of us going home to Agua Mesa, it was harder to plan a visit. Then Brady went to law school, Finn and I got jobs, and somehow days and months floated by until they became years.
Though we haven’t been together physically, we’ve kept in touch. We text, we call, we see each other’s social media posts.
Just thinking about talking to them brings a smile to my face. Finn’s voice is wry, like he’s always on the edge of laughing or flirting. It makes it seem like no matter what it is he’s talking about, it’s not that bad.
Not Brady. Brady’s voice is strong and commanding, but kind. If loyalty and conviction had a voice, it would be Brady’s.
I call him first, simply because his name comes first in my contacts.
“Lennon?” He sounds worried, which he should be. We haven’t talked on the phone in a while. If his name was the one flashing across my screen, I’d be beside myself.
“Brady, hi. How are you?”
“Worried about you.”
“Were you worried about me before I called?”
He chuckles. “Not really.”
“I’m fine,” I assure him.
“Are you sure about that? We haven’t talked in a long time…”
The reason why hangs in the air between us, somehow traveling across the miles between Dallas and Chicago.
I clear my throat. “Um, yeah. It has been a while. But I promise, I’m fine. I’m calling to tell you that my mom died yesterday and I’m going back to Agua Mesa.”
Brady blows out an audible breath, some of it sneaking into the phone and making awhooshingnoise.
“When are you leaving?” he asks, and I hear new background noise. Something slamming. Maybe a cabinet?
