Thoughts and reason are at war, each objection met with an assurance, and each guarantee met with a new resistance that rolls down my cheeks and makes my nose grow stuffy and my head throb.
I press the ‘call’ button on my steering wheel. “Call Poppy,” I say.
Her phone rings twice. “If you’re calling me to brag about delicious wedding cake and more delicious sex, I’m hanging up.”
My throat grows tight as I try to laugh, but it makes me cough, the sensation too familiar, reminding me even more of those days following the accident.
“Rae?” she says, her voice changing in an instant, concern and dread deepening her voice and canceling the cheer. “What’s wrong?”
“Do you mind if I stay with you?”
“What? Yes. I mean no. Come over, or I can meet you.”
I pull in a shaky breath, wiping my eyes because the rain has everything blurred without the addition of my tears. “I’m like fifteen minutes out.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I don’t know if I’m just sabotaging things or if I’m finally facing reality. Do you remember Nikki?”
“Yeah…”
“She was there tonight. Apparently, Lincoln’s dad and her dad are business partners, and they’ve known each other forever. Like taking baths and family vacations together, forever. And she cornered me in the bathroom. I know she was trying to get to me. She was trying to get into my head and make me doubt things because she likes him. Because as girls, we have a way of finding the greatest vulnerabilities and then picking at them like a loose thread, and she didn’t delay in ripping that thread. He gave her a necklace.”
“A necklace?”
“A pearl necklace.”
“She told you he did?”
I shake my head, though she can’t see me. “I know he bought it. I saw it in his truck weeks ago, and he admitted to it.”
“What?” She sounds as angry and confused as I do, and I can picture my best friend pushing both hands into her red hair like she does when she’s stunned. “Why? Why would he do that?”
“She said he gets her a piece of jewelry with a pearl every year for her birthday.”
Poppy releases a gentle growl. “Okay. It’s all right. He’s a guy. Guys are dense. To him, it probably means next to nothing. He probably doesn’t realize it even means anything to her.”
“It’s jewelry, and so, if that is the case, then the necklace he gave me means nothing.” My admission is quiet, a painful reality I’ve been trying to ignore since I recognized the offending piece of jewelry.
She sighs heavily. “I don’t know. I feel like after everything you guys have been through—after all, that he’s done to prove his feelings—this has to be a mistake. I think you’re right. I think she was trying to get under your skin, and she hit you right where you’re the weakest because you still refuse to believe you’re good enough for him, which you are. He chose you. He wants you, and she knows that, and she was bitter. Come over. We’ll order pizza and share a good cry, and then I’m going to make you write ‘I’m good enough’ twelve thousand times or until Lincoln comes over, whichever comes first. My money’s on Lincoln, though.”
“There are so many things against us.”
“I know. I get it. I understand how debilitating that fear is. How scary the idea of taking a bullet to the heart is, but you have to stop being your own worst enemy.”
My thoughts dash to another night, the first night Lincoln kissed me when he’d lit a cigarette and I’d told him he was creating an obstacle for himself, and he’d said it was because he was at least able to have a say in the matter.
If I want a say in the matter, why am I running when I should be fighting?
A fresh round of tears spring to my eyes as I think of his words while I packed to leave, him telling me he loved me, and how I didn’t reciprocate the words though I’ve felt them and thought them no less than a million times.
“You’re right,” I tell her.
“Which part? Because I’ve said a lot.”
I laugh, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. “All of it.”
“It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. Love has a way of making even simple things seem overwhelming if you try to dissect it, rather than just live in the moment—and then when you find that balance, everything feels easy.”
My thoughts flip to times we’ve been alone, to him meeting me after Maggie left, and the past week where each moment has felt easy and natural and too good. A lead weight presses against my stomach. “I think Pax figured it out. He was confronting Lincoln, and I left.” I groan. “I left him to face it alone.”
“It’s probably better that way, honestly. They need to have it out and clear the air.”
“Yeah, but I should be there.”
“Actually, you shouldn’t,” Poppy says. “They’ve been best friends for three years. You and Pax will need to have a conversation, sure, but so do they.”
I consider Poppy’s words, thinking about the bond she and I share—how when she started dating Mike, our solid relationship suddenly felt flimsy because, like our egos and our hopes, relationships can be severely damaged with our own negative thoughts.
“If Dylan doesn’t like my eyeliner, he’s in for a show when he sees my current look.”
Poppy chuckles. “Pizza? Chinese? Thai? What do you want?”
“I’m not hungry. I just need to sort out my feelings and try calling Lincoln so I can apologize. But, you’re right. They need their time, and I don’t want to interrupt.”
“My mom’s working late, so I’m getting pizza and Thai. Once you smell it, you’ll be hungry.”
The last thing on my mind is food as I glance at my dash to see if I’ve received any texts from Lincoln. There’s none.
Ahead is the exit for the Sound. It feels like a beckon—kismet of sorts, and I’m already pulling the wheel to take it.
“I’m going to stop at the marina. I just need to gather my thoughts for a few.”
“It’s raining.”
“I know.”
“It’s getting dark,” she says.
“I know. I just need to go there for a little while. The ocean and I, we’re still trying to make peace ourselves.”
“I know. I get it. Have you talked to your mom? She’s getting home tomorrow, right?”
I release a sigh. “Yeah. She called this morning. She asked if I wanted to move in with her or stay living with my dad.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I didn’t know what to say. I mean, I don’t know if she wants me to be with her and I can make it easier for her to go through this transition or if she asked out of obligation?”
“Your mom loves you. You know if she had her way, all three of you would be living with her still.”
I think of Mom’s reaction when Paxton had started talking about moving out, how she’d made all his favorite meals and bought a larger TV in the living room in hopes he’d change his mind. Even then, it didn’t feel like she was trying to bribe him—it still doesn’t. She was just trying to fight for him to stay longer without actually saying the words, knowing she’d put him in a tough place.