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“No, I should know.” Joey swallowed hard. “I did this to you. The least I can do is understand it.”
“It took me months to wrap my head around it all, and it was happening to me,” Dakota said. “I really don’t want to discuss the function of my internal organs at lunch, you know?”
“Right. Sorry.”
Neal returned with our drinks, setting down the cups without a word and slipping away. I took a sip of my water, eyeing Dakota’s MoonShake longingly. I’d already made enough bad decisions lately, though.
Dakota rummaged through the purse hanging from her chair. She pulled out a folded sheet of paper. “I’d like to talk about your letter.”
Joey fidgeted in his chair, peeking at me out of the corner of his eye. “I just wanted you to know how sorry I am. I didn’t mean to upset you. I hoped it might—” He stopped short.
“What, Joey?” Dakota asked.
He shook his head. “It’s stupid. I was stupid.”
“I didn’t bring you here to beat you up,” Dakota said. “I want to understand. Tell me why you wrote me the letter.”
“It wasn’t so you’d forgive me or anything like that,” he said quickly. “I don’t expect that. But I wanted you to know that I regret it every day, that I didn’t just ruin your life and go on my merry way. I’d switch places with you if I could, and I know that probably sounds light or flippant because I don’t know how much you’ve suffered, but I would. I’d take it all from you if I could. My biggest regret is that I walked away from that accident and you didn’t. I’m so fucking sorry. Fuck. I said fuck again.”
Dakota gave a watery laugh. Shit. She was blinking hard, barely holding it together. I reached over and took hold of her hand, and she squeezed tight.
“Oh, Joey. It means a lot to hear you say that, but I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. Not even my worst enemy, and I’m pretty sure that’s not you.”
He sniffed. “I should be, though, shouldn’t I? I did this.”
She shook her head. “I was really angry when I woke up in that hospital bed. I was in so much shock I could barely think, and when I could, all I could see was what I’d lost.” She dashed away a tear sneaking out of one eye. “I was furious that the other driver had walked away. I admit it. I was bitter.”
Joey closed his eyes and nodded. “It wasn’t fair.”
“No, it wasn’t,” she said with a breathy laugh. “It was unfair that I drove a stupid little car that didn’t protect me better. It was unfair that my airbags malfunctioned and that I was reaching over into the passenger seat to dig through my purse, putting me at an awkward angle when the crash happened. Life is fucking unfair, Joey.”
He bit his lip. “But it wasn’t just unfair that I hit you. I made choices that led me there.”
“Yeah, you did,” I said tightly.
Dakota was letting him off too easily. If it had just been an accident, sure, but the guy stole his parents’ car, went joyriding, and lost control. He was reckless, and it had nearly cost Dakota her life.
Dakota lay her hand on my arm and shook her head.
Neal returned with our food, stopping me from arguing. Probably a good thing. I’d promised to let Dakota run the show.
“Grilled chicken,” he said, setting the basket in front of Dakota with a quick, nervous glance. At least he was acknowledging her presence now. He set down Joey’s cowboy burger and rings, then my veggie burger with okra.
“Back to the letter,” Dakota said, smoothing it on the table beside her as Neal left to check on another table.
Joey picked up an onion ring and nibbled it. Did he always eat like a rabbit, or was he just nervous?
“Maybe we could eat first, Dakota?” I suggested.
She glanced at me. I nodded toward Joey.
“Yeah, let’s do that,” she agreed. “We could use a breather. I feel like I’m trapped in a gothic novel with all this angsting.”
Joey blinked. “Uh, okay.”
She picked up her sandwich. “Don’t expect me to swoon. I’m made of stronger stuff.”
“I have no doubt,” he said.
