"It wasn't easy to watchunfold, ya know.My best friend lovin' his best friend, having toput up with their super bond like a constant third wheel.Thenwatchin' him watch her with another guy, see her slowly withdrawfrom both of us.And how Cam suffered through it all—screwin'around twice as much and drinking twice that.I can't even imaginewhat it was like for him to find out what'd been happenin' to hisRory girl.It fuckin' killedme, and—shit…" He trails off, overwhelmed atsome memory.
I've heard Rory and Cam'ssuper best friendship described what feels like a hundred goddamnedtimes by now, and it never fails to make me insanely jealous andinsecure.But right now I pity him.I know how I felt when she'dtold me about the hellthat motherfuckingbastardput her through.I can't imaginehaving been right there, and then knowing I could have donesomething to stop it… that's a fucking lot to live with.
"Yeah," Iexhale.
Chip pulls off the exit tohead back to our hotel and doesn't say another word until we'restopped at a red light.He looks at me intently then.
"What's done is done,though," he says.
I blink at him.
"Things are different now.I didn't expect to find her like this.I mean, she's still dealin'with a lot, obviously."
Obviously.
"But she's happy.You makeher happy."
I stare at him, unable tofind words, not when his are so close to what I want tohear.
"You're supposed to betogether now.That much is clear," he says, then turns left as thelight changes again like he didn't just give me the validation I'dbeen pitifully desperate for.
He pulls into the circulardrive and hands the keys to his dirty pickup to the valet, and wewalk together to the elevator in silence.It stops on his floorfirst, and before I can think of the right thing to say, he murmurs"Don't fuck it up," and exits the car.
I repeat the same words tomyself.Don't fuck it up.
****
Theflight home is far better than mylast flight home from Miami.Instead of running my fingers over thenote that ripped my heart out, I run them over the exposed skin ofRory’s shoulder, which my arm is wrapped tightly around.I pretendto watch the movie on the screen in front of me while she readssome novel on her tablet, but mostly I just watch her.
She seems different.Unburdened.And it makes me feel the same.I watched her saygoodbye to Chip yesterday, watched her hug him and smile at him,and I couldn't have felt more proud.I know how she handled hispresence the last time she saw him and I wonder if she realizesjust how far she's come.My little badass.I also saw the hope inher eyes.This friendship means a lot to her, and so it means a lotto me.
I like knowing he'll be inNew York in a few short months.That she'll have another guy herelooking out for her.One who cares about her for the rightreasons.
Rory peeks over at me outof the corner of her eye, catching me staring at her, but I don'tbother looking away.She should just get used to it.
"Good movie?"sheteases.
"Best thing I've everseen," I tell her.
Rory's mom picks us upfrom the airport and asks us about our weekend.Rory's words arevague, but her blush isn't.I say nothing, just sit here and fightthe smirk trying to give away my thoughts.We spent most of theweekend in our suite making up for lost time.Though Rory did dragme down to the beach once or twice.That's the part she tells hermom about.
I'm dropped off at homewhere I catch up with my mom and Bits.They accompany me to theAthletics Awards Dinner the following night, where I'm presentedwith several awards, and where I have to give a speech about CoachTead and present him with a plaque.
I head straight to Rory'safterwards.We never even made plans; I just drove hereautomatically as if I couldn't stay away.
I end up sleeping over,though we're respectful enough not to have sex with her mother inthe next room, and though Rory insists there's no reason for me tosneak out before dawn, we do get up early to have breakfast—well,coffee—with her.Amy doesn't bat an eyelash.I guess there's nopoint in pretending.After all, she knows we just spent the weekendin Miami and she must know we're sleeping together.
The truth is I think sheknows I help Rory's nightmares.I'm pretty sure Rory toldher.
I love how excited Amygets when Rory asks her to take her shopping for a prom dress.Soexcited, in fact, that she doesn't even blink when we get to thepart about spending the weekend in the Hamptons with our friends.She does, however, give us a short, but sufficiently awkward speechabout safety and respect, and I find I can't quite meet her eyesagain for the remainder of the morning.But despite theawkwardness, I find the whole thing pretty heartening.
It's incredibly gratifyingto me.Humbling.The trust Rory's mother is placing in me,especially after everything she's been through.It means thefucking world to me.
The next few nights aremuch the same and by the time prom rolls around, Rory has gone morethan a week without a nightmare and she's looking rested andradiant.
The actual event isexactly as I predicted.Tedious and pretentious.But the sight ofher in her skin-tone colored dress, the way the color brings outher light Miami-tan—it does something to me.Her hair has beenpulled away from her face, but still spills over her shoulders andback in loose waves, and Carl has obviously done her makeup, thoughit's not as heavy as the last time she did it.She is a vision, andone that makes each of the seemingly thousand photos we pose for inthe eighty-five degree weather worth every second.
It's while we're standingaround taking these photos, just after Rory wipes the sheen ofsweat from my lip with a tissue, that I have the most trite thoughtI never imagined I would have.I stand there thinking that one daywe'll show these pictures to our grandchildren.And though thethought startles me, it doesn't scare me.On the contrary, I findthe idea rather thrilling.
