“Your grief manifested itself in unexpected ways. I get that. Like I told you when we talked about it before I knew who you were, you took on a huge responsibility. That you would make mistakes was a given.”
“Yeah, but I want to be better going forward.”
“You’re already better just by virtue of opening up about what happened.”
“Thank you for saying that.”
We smile at each other and I’m reminded why we’re here, together.
Somehow, some way, we fit—and it feels like I can talk to her about almost anything.
What more could I ask for at this stage of a relationship?
Chapter
Sixteen
Jayne
An exchange of texts between Bodi and Rome confirms that Lourdes is indeed his ex-wife, and Bodi and I sit in the parking lot of the outdoor mall as the information comes to light.
“This is a twist I didn’t see coming,” Bodi admits, looking at me. “Rome says he can give you a lot of dirt about her but most of it would just be his word against hers, though he does have proof of some stuff, like the texts from when she was cheating on him.”
“She was cheating with my dad,” I murmur. “Because I seem to remember them having some lovey-dovey conversation at the dinner table about how the chemistry was there from the moment they met, even though they couldn’t be together right away. How their texts and phone conversations kept her going through the hardest, darkest time of her life. Or some bullshit like that.”
“Is this good or bad?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “It’s not like she cheated on my dad… that would be different.”
“Well, she certainly looked like she wanted to lick West from head to toe.”
“Gross.” I laugh.
“Come on, let’s go walk around and talk about something more pleasant.”
“Okay.” I get out of the SUV, and he takes my hand again as we head toward the outdoor mall area. It’s hot but the humidity is a bit lower today, so it’s a beautiful day to walk around. With a cute guy who’s been holding my hand nonstop since we left the farmer’s market.
There’s a stationery store that I love and when I mention going in, he doesn’t even hesitate. He follows behind me as I peruse the journals—my one weakness—and all the pretty planner supplies.
“My therapist suggested I start journaling,” Bodi muses, looking around. “I was going to get a basic notebook, the kind you use in school, but then I thought maybe digital would be better. That’s the one thing I haven’t been keeping up with for my therapy, the journaling.”
“I love to journal,” I admit. “And write letters. I usually don’t send them but I do write them.”
“Yeah? To whom?”
“For a long time, to my mom. After she died, I needed to stay connected. Eventually, I realized I needed to stop because it hurt more than it helped. Now I write them to the universe. Future me. Whatever.”
“I love that idea.”
“You don’t think it’s dorky?”
“Not at all.”
“I wrote you one,” I whisper, dropping my gaze.
“To Bodi or to Broderick?”
“To Bodi. That night. After we decided not to see each other again.”
