“Lou is worried about you. Talia is worried about you. They both love you and have been here for you no matter what. You are not shutting them out. And I got Rebecca to come in and help me this afternoon. Youwilltake off that apron, wash the dough off your hands, and go to lunch with your friends.”
I gape at her, but she has her do-not-mess-with-me eyes on.
“Apparently, you’ve skipped right past sweet and supportive and gone straight to tough love,” I grumble as I make myself do as she basically commanded. My hands tremble as I try to untie my apron. It makes no sense for me to be nervous to go to lunch with my two best friends. Other than the fact that they will want to ask if I’m okay, and I’ll want to ask if Hunter has said anything, and I don’t know how I’ll eat with the constant anxiety still swirling my stomach into a vortex of acid.
“I will always be sweet and supportive when you need me to be—but I will also push you out of the nest when you need help remembering that you know how to fly.”
Our eyes meet across the kitchen. My lips twist to one side. “Okay,” I say quietly.
“Okay.” Her smile is gentle once more.
We sit in a corner booth at Panera, which I picked because it’s close and has soup, which I’m afraid might be all I can manage to force down. But I have to work to keep from remembering the Panera picnic Hunter took me on last week.
Talia and Lou have kept up the majority of the conversation to this point, talking about work and Austin’s Instagram post of his most recent one-night fling (I knew he wouldn’t think about me for long) and Lou’s next date with Chris.
Until Lou suddenly cries, “Oh crap!” startling me so badly I spill my spoonful of tomato basil soup. “You don’t want to hear about dates right now. I’m sorry. I’m sodumbsometimes.”
“It’s fine,” I say as I grab a napkin to wipe the soup off my fingers. “You can talk about Chris as much as you want. In fact, Iwantto hear about him. I’m glad that whole crazy night didn’t scare him off.”
“Are you sure?” Lou shoots Talia a worried glance, and I roll my eyes.
“Yes, I’m sure. I haven’t suddenly lost interest in your lives or something. I just don’t want to talk about mine.”
“That’s fair. But you probablywouldwant to know that Hunter finally asked about you this morning.” Talia elbows Lou, and Lou hisses, “What?” but I barely notice, because my heart has hurtled into my throat.
I practically choke trying to swallow my spoonful of soup. “He ... he did?”
After Lou shoots Talia a glare, she confirms, “Yeah, he did. He wanted to know if you were okay.”
I stare at her. “And? What did you tell him?”
“I told him of course you’re not okay! That it’s not your fault you got his sister’s heart and that he’s an idiot for reacting like this.”
I groan and drop my head into my hands.
“What? He asked how you were, and I washonest. Heisbeing an idiot.”
“Don’t you think you’d be a little upset if you found out that ... well, you know?” Talia says. “He’s going through a lot right now.”
“Whose side are you even on?” Lou demands.
I clutch the sides of my head, digging my fingers into my scalp.
“I’m not on anyone’sside. There shouldn’tbesides. They’re both good people who are hurting deeply. We can’t judge either of them for how they’re handling it.”
“I want to go home now.” I have a sudden headache pounding at my skull. I can’t force it away, no matter how hard I squeeze my head.
“Liv, are you okay? I’m sorry if I was wrong to say that to him. I’ll fix it, I promise.” Lou starts rubbing small circles on my upper back.
“It’s okay. You were trying to help. It’s fine. I ... I have a headache. I need to go lie down.” I don’t mention that I feel like I might hurl up the half a cup of soup I managed to eat, especially if I let myself picture the shock and pain that must have flashed across Hunter’s face when Lou said that to him this morning. It’s further proof that as much as it hurts to even consider, I need to end this—for good. So I no longer have any power to hurt him.
“I can run you home. It’s on my way back to work,” Talia offers.
We clean up our garbage, Lou gets a lid for me to take home the rest of my cup of soup, and we head out the door, into the blustery day. The unfulfilled threat of rain hovers; there is a heaviness to the air—a pregnant pause, the intake of breath before the exhale—that says the storm is coming any minute now.
“I really am sorry if I was out of line with Hunter.” Lou turns to me before we separate. “I guess I’m mad that this happened—that such a good thing got ruined. I haven’t seen him happy and teasing andhimselflike that since ... well, since before the accident. And I hate that it’s gone now—that therealHunter is gone again. And Ireallyhate that you got hurt too.” Lou grabs my free hand and squeezes it. “Can you forgive me?”
I pull her into a hug. “There’s nothing to forgive! You were defending me. I’m grateful to have such a fierce friend.”
