Gasps bounce through the car before Micah says, “Millie? Asking if someone wants to visualize?”
“Oh, hush it,” Millie scolds. “I’m willing to admit that it did something for me. It definitely alerted me to the fact that I had feelings for Finn and the girls.”
I drop my forehead to the leather steering wheel with a groan. Crossing my arms over my stomach, I mumble an unenthusiastic, “Okay. I’ll do it.”
Millie hisses a triumphantyes.
“First, imagine what happens if you keep driving home,” Emil prompts. “How will you feel in one week?”
I slowly pull in a breath and let it out through my nose, picturing TV static in my mind. And when it fades away, I see myself at home. Millie, Micah, and Emil line the couch next to me, looking between themselves sadly. The house is messier than normal. The Christmas tree is still in the corner, with only half of the ornaments it normally has since Millie took hers to her new house. I’m hugging my knees while we watchGilmore Girls, and I can see the heartbreak written all over me. It’s in the downward curl of my lips and in the pale tone of my skin.
But my eyes are the sharpest warning bell. They’re downcast, puffy, and dull. The eyes of someone who has been crying for days.
I know exactly howthatLena feels. Like she isn’t whole because she left a piece of herself in Juniper.
She served him her heart on a silver platter and didn’t realize he’d taken the whole thing. Didn’t realize how significant it had been at the time because everything about offering it to him had felt natural. It had felt like the exact right choice. Theonlyright choice.
It was eithergive her heart to Gavinornever give it to anyone.
“You okay?” Millie asks, worry lacing her tone.
“Yes. But I looked devastated. Broken. Like the world has moved on without me, but I’m still stuck there, waiting.”
Hums of acknowledgment flicker through the phone.
“Can we try the second option?” Micah asks. “Maybe you’ll like that one more.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I tell them.
“Lena.” Millie’s voice is firm. It’s the mom voice she’s been practicing, one I heard her perfect recently when Eloise tried to sneak up the stairs with an entire bag of chocolate chips under her shirt. The little chocolate gremlin froze mid step when she heard her name in Millie’s mom voice, just like this.
“Yes, Mom.” My own sass brings a grin to my face.
She scoffs. “I’m going to talk to you the way you would talk to me. Okay? Are you ready?”
“Fine,” I grumble, lifting my head from the steering wheel.
Millie clears her throat like she’s trying to get into character. “I think everyone on this call can agree that you are a badass.”
I huff a laugh. “You’re saying that to a woman who has been crying in her car for twenty minutes on Christmas night.”
“Badasses cry too. But you are also a badass who”—she pauses for dramatic effect, and it works, putting me on the edge of my seat with anticipation—“stands up for the people you care about. You fight for every single one of us to get the respect and the lives we deserve. You are the number one person we would want at our back for good times and bad times and in-between times.”
Millie sniffles before continuing. “I’m not always the best at standing up for myself. But you showed me how to do it, and now I’m going to return the favor. You need to fight foryourself, for the future you want. You have to take a break from protecting us and protectyou. Stand up foryou. We’re all behind you, cheering for you, but you have to decide which path you’re going to take.”
“You’re giving me too much credit. Myjobis to protect the people around me. It’s my main role in life. I don’t know how to do it for myself.” A bitter laugh tumbles from my chest. “And I’m just a stepping stone. I teach people what they can do better next time, but I’m not the kind of partner someone sticks around for.”
Emil dons his professor voice as he says, “Then they don’t matter. They’re not your people.”
Emotion strangles my throat as Micah adds with a sad lilt to his voice, “You taught us how to be brave, Lena, and now it’s your turn.”
“Don’t think about anyone but you,” Emil says. “What does Lena Camilla Santoswant? Not considering if other people need you or what makes sense to anyone else. What doesyoursoul want?”
My heart feels as fragile as rice paper, like the slightest brush could tear it open and spill everything.
“I didn’t know how much these feelings were going to hurt,” I admit, squeezing my eyes shut. “It was a dull heartache for the last ten years, like a constant sore muscle that never healed.” I press my palm over my heart and try to rub away the pain. “But driving away just now felt like it got ripped out.”
“And what do you think that means?” Millie whispers.
