He drains the rest of his beer, then stares at the empty bottle for a long moment, his fingers tracing the label. “There’s nothing worse than being with someone when you know they don’t really want to be with you. I lived that life for three years, and it’s taken me sixteen more to realize it would’ve been kinder for her to let me go from the start. I’m not saying I regret it, and you’re the reason I don’t, but all these years and I still don’t know how to let go inside.” He forces his hands apart with obvious effort. “It’d be easier if I could hate her, I know that. But every time the fireflies are here, I remember the girl she was, and how, for a time, I got to call her mine.”
I haven’t forgotten the fireflies either, and while I don’t think I’ll ever stop being angry at her for leaving us, I don’t think I can blame him anymore for choosing not to hate her.
His voice drops lower now so that I have to strain to hear it when he continues. “You said you didn’t want to be capable ofhurting someone who loves you, but Wren, we all are. The difference is what you do after. If you want Eryn, then you do whatever it takes to win her back.” His head stays tipped forward, but his eyes lift and hold mine. “But if you don’t, then it’s far kinder to be honest with both of them sooner rather than later.”
I feel pinned by his stare, absolutely frozen in place.
“Do you love Eryn?”
I would have answered that question without hesitation a month ago. Now, I can’t find the words as I finally break free from his scrutiny.
“I’m not gonna say this right. I don’t know how, so I’m just gonna say it.” Dad takes a deep breath. “Accident or not, you are worthy, do you understand me? Don’t let your own hang-ups or the mistakes that your mother or I made make you think otherwise.” He hits his fingers against the table, drawing my gaze and making sure he has my full attention. “I’m not saying what you did was right. You know it wasn’t, and you have to do everything in your power to make it right with the people you hurt. But after that, Wren, you have to be able to forgive yourself. And then you have to think about what you really want, not just what you feel like you should want.”
Thirty-Two
Lili
“Another early morning?”
Thanks to the shower curtain, I only hear Mom when she walks into the bathroom all three of us have to share, which means that even getting up this early, I can’t cry in the shower in peace without someone coming in to brush their teeth.
“Yeah. I’ll be out in a second.” I step back under the spray and let the water rinse away the tears I’ve indulged for too long. Wren told me to my face that he can’t choose me. He and Eryn have too much history, too much invested in one another.
I let my face crumble one more time behind the safety of the shower curtain, before turning the knob to full cold, giving me the icy spray I need to pull myself together.
“Lili?” Mom asks when I stifle a yelp.
“I’m fine, the water just went cold.” I turn off the tap and reach my arm out to grab a towel before wrapping it around myself and opening the curtain. I step out of the tub and start to comb my hair in front of the sink.
“Oh, these wretched pipes. Graham’s bringing by some newfittings for me to try, but I’m worried we’ll still have to replace most of them.”
In our reflection in the mirror, I see that she doesn’t look nearly as put off by the idea as she should.
“Graham again.” I smile at her.
She pauses to fold and rehang her hand towel. “Yes, Graham again. And he’s invited us over for lunch after church on Sunday.”
My smile falters just the tiniest bit. “Okay. He does know we’re leaving, right?” But what I’m really asking is if she’s changed her mind about how soon.
She smiles wearily. “He knows. He’s offered to come by in a couple of weeks with his son and help us box everything up. Including your father’s desk, if you’d like to take it. I don’t think it’ll fit in your dorm, but I can keep track of it more easily off this island than on.”
I nod wordlessly. Then swallow and say, “So it’s two weeks then?”
She looks around the bathroom, thinking of the spaces beside and beneath this one before murmuring her assent. “The front porch just needs to be painted, and then the plumbing still needs attention, but otherwise there are only a handful of things left to button up. In fact, there are some rooms that are already ready for you to photograph for the rental listing.”
She stops when she sees my stricken expression, then runs a hand over my arm and pulls me into a hug. “The house will still be here after college, if this is where you really want to be.”
I’m holding my towel up, so I can’t hug her back, but I rest my head on her shoulder, and she doesn’t seem to mind whenmy wet hair instantly soaks through her sleep shirt. “I’m not ready yet.”
“You haven’t talked to Eryn, have you?”
I shake my head against her shoulder. One of many unfinished things spinning through my head.
“Have you tried?”
Another shake.
She lets me go and turns back to the sink, watching me through the mirror. “Sounds like something you need to do sooner rather than later.”
