She stares at me, saying nothing. Anxious thoughts race through my mind and veins. Then she starts laughing, a bubbly giggle she covers with a hand when it grows too loud. That’snotthe reaction I was expecting.
“You’re not mad?” I ask.
“Why would I be mad? That was so messy of you. Andexactlywhat I’d ask you to do if I knew you’d see him.”
“Really?”
“Do you know me? Yes.”
“I’m the reason he found out you were still here, though. Not your friends.” Why I keep trying to dig my grave, I don’t know.
“Babe, I wasn’t upset because he found out I was still here. I was upset he cheated on me then turned around to say he’d leave her the minute he found out I moved on. He’s trash.”
I breathe easier, the weight lifted from my chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. The day I found out, I came home and you were in pain. I didn’t want to add to that, and then it felt like it was too late to mention it without making it seem like I had been hiding it.”
“I understand. Don’t worry about it.”
Her acceptance comes so easily, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the circumstance or because her news is worse. “What did you need to tell me?”
Bri’s eyes drop from mine. It must be bad. “When I went to get your suitcases from Natalie, I told you she didn’t say anything important. But she did. She said a lot.”
“Like what?”
Her eyes look up as if recalling the exact words from deep in her memory. “She said she loved you, but she knew she’d never bein lovewith you. She said you give up your dreams for others because you don’t believe there’s another way you’d deserve to be loved.”
A message that would have eviscerated me had I heard it right after she left. She never loved me, and somehow she knew I didn’t love myself either? My giving up everything to follow her was the ultimate example of why she never saw a future with me.
“She told me to tell you when you were ready. The right time for me to tell you wasn’t the day after I met you, so I told her to write it in her own words. It’s in the ring box,” Bri says. “I figured if you were missing her or wondering if you made the right choice to leave, you’d look at the ring and find the note.”
“You spent all that time showing me how to care for myself so it would hurt less when I saw her note?”
“I guess so, yeah. You deserve real love. Reciprocated love. From everyone you choose to keep in your life.”
Bri, protecting me the way I tried to protect her, showing me Natalie’s words don’t have to be true, that I’m worth more. That’s more love than I’ve felt from someone in . . . ever. And now I have to leave her.
“I don’t know how I would have survived without you.”
“Me either. I’m going to miss you,” she says. My heart jumps against my ribs for more than one reason.
We probably won’t get to see each other often, but why is she saying that as if we’ll never see each other again?
“We should plan something,” I blurt.
“Plan what?”
“Like, plan to visit each other once a month. Take a vacation together over the holidays. Something.”
“I’d love to, but . . . I don’t have vacation money.”
“We can make it a weekend trip. Meet halfway in NorCal or Oregon.”
“Maybe.”
She is pulling away from me. Not her body. She lies steady in my arms, hands curled on my chest, looking into my eyes while speaking the opposite of what her body tells me. Maybe I’m seeing what I want to see. Maybe thisisgoodbye.
She leans in and presses her lips to mine. A soft, lasting kiss. Her lips stay on mine like she’s savoring the final taste of her favorite wine. For a second, I believe I won’t lose her after tonight.
Holding her face in my hand, I kiss her like I don’t want to let go—because I don’t. I’m afraid to take it further, but more afraid to leave and never see if what I feel for her is deeper than friendship. She matters to me in ways I can’t explain. Bri is part of me now. She is the missing piece of my soul, the home for the excess parts of me no one else wanted. If I lose her, I will break all over again.
