“Oh, boy,” she murmured, studying me like a bug under a cup. “You’re too far gone, I think.”
Ignoring this, I dove in. “He’s a clean freak. Dude would have a conniption if he walked through my apartment and saw the counter covered in used plastic forks and the colony of fruit flies in the bathroom. ‘Why are they in the bathroom?’ he’d ask. How am I supposed to answer that?”
Slowly, Arden covered her mouth with her hand. I plowed on.
“He doesn’t like junk food. How pretentious do you have to be to not eat a Twinkie I bought for you out of the goodness of my heart? I should hate him for that alone.”
“But you don’t,” Arden pointed out.
“Well, maybe he has a thing about sugar.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “Oh god.”
“?‘Maybe he has a thing about sugar,’?” Arden repeated grimly. “Violet. Sweetheart. Love of my life.”
“It’s so bad.” I looked at her, eyes swimming. “What do Ido?”
Her expression softened. “Vi,” she said. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do. It’s already done.”
“No, it’s not.” I waved a finger at the screen of my phone. “It’s not. Because we agreed it never happened. So it can’t be done becauselogic.”
The softness in her expression disappeared. I’d said too much.
“What?” Her lip twitched, seconds away from bared teeth, ready to go for the nearest throat.
“Hmm?”
“You agreed it never happened?”
“Who?”
“I told him.” Arden sucked in a sharp breath, face pinching with rage. “I told him if he returned you worse off inanyway—”
“I’m not! I’m fine! Because it never happened, so we’re good!”
She slumped against the couch. “I hate that I’m not there. Not because I want to hurt Dex. I do, obviously. But I want to be there for you. As in, in the same room.”
“I know,” I said quietly. “You’ve been in the same room as me all year and I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. But we can’t always be in the same room, you know? I can’t rely on you so much.”
For a split second, I thought she might take offense, as if I didn’t appreciate how heroic she’d been over the course of our friendship—this last year put her in the running for a Nobel Prize, as far as I was concerned. Accepting help is one thing, but being completely helpless is another. I was sick of being unable to function without my best friend.
I needed her. I always would.
“I know,” she said, swiping at her eyes. “God, you’re healing. I’m so proud of you.”
I huffed. “Healing. Right.”
“Your dad would be proud, too.”
My heart heaved, crashing clumsily into my rib cage. “I haven’t done anything,” I whispered. “Like, I know he’s proud of me regardless, but—”
“Vi.” She widened her eyes. “He always wanted you to do what you wanted to do and be what you wanted to be. And here you are, finally.”
“Finally?”
“This isn’t just for Phoebe. It’s for you. You’re coming back to life. You’re laughing. You’re exploring new cities. You’re falling in love. You’re stepping out of your comfort zone in every possible way,” she explained, and my vision blurred. “I thought you were crazy, going on this trip. But I’m watching you blossom, babe. And for the first time since we met, you know you deserve it.”
I didn’t think this could be considered blossoming, considering the amount of times I’d reached for the pack of TUMS in my luggage. Falling for Dex was the worst-case scenario, other than the true crime ending Arden originally imagined. But Ididfeel different. These last few days, all the miles between here and home, something inside me changed for the better. All I really knew was that it was easier to reach for the good memories of my dad, and each day seemed to awaken a happier version of Phoebe, and I’d found something with Dex I wanted to keep.
Maybe not a blossom, but at the very least, I wasn’t buried under six feet of soil anymore.
