Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
And I’ve warred with myself a million times since Sunday on what to do about it.
Do I go to her and plead my case again?
Do I give her the space she needs and hope it doesn’t take years for her to realize I’m the one for her?
Do I try to be her friend like I was pre-date and see if I can win her trust like that?
I’ve always believed that the universe would put the woman for me in my path. Surely, if Gianna is truly the love of my life, the universe will put us back together.
I hope. God, I hope.
GIANNA
Clouds roll across the sky, covering the sun and cooling the air. The weather report said rain, but I didn’t have an umbrella at the office and didn’t want to run home to get one. If I were truly prepared, would I be me?
Besides, if it pours on me while I’m out here, at least my parents will recognize me and know that I haven’t changed.
The thought puts a sad smile on my face.
The cemetery lawn is soft, and I had to take my heels off so they wouldn’t tear up the ground. Also, so I didn’t break my neck.
Their headstone is in the back, a shiny black stone with their picture etched in the front. It was Lucia’s idea, and I went along with it. I think it gives her peace somehow to see them memorialized in granite as a happy couple for eternity.
Pretty red flowers fill the grave vases on either side of the stone. They look nice. Watching the plastic petals flutter in the wind causes my chest to tighten.
I squat in front of it and dust off the ledge. I don’t know why I’m here; I never come here. But today it just felt necessary.
The bridge of my nose burns as the wind picks up, and my bottom lip trembles. I haven’t cried over my parents since the day of their funeral. Why am I crying now?
“Hey,” I say. The word triggers a sob to escape my throat—one I didn’t realize was waiting in the wings. In an instant, tears fill my eyes, and I find myself unable to see anything around me.
“I don’t know what to say to you.” I feel much less silly than I expected. It’s like they’re here—like they can hear me. And that’s more comforting than I ever imagined it would be. “Dammit, why did you have to die?”
Tears stream down my cheeks, snot reaching my top lip. My chest shakes violently, and I chastise myself for not bringing a tissue. But I didn’t expect to cry.
I wait until the sobs turn to sniffles and my cheeks are hot to the touch. Then I try again.
“I met a guy,” I say, laughing through the tears. “He’s fantastic. I think even you two would have to approve.”
It’s satisfying to know they can’t argue with me about it, or point out a flaw, or tell me I’m wrong. That alone is worth the drive to the cemetery.
“His name is Drake, and he told me he loved me a few days ago,” I say. “And I freaked out. I blame it on you, just to be clear. I don’t really know if that’s fair. I wonder sometimes how distorted my memories of you guys might be. I lost you at nineteen—in the throes of teenage rebellion. Would we have managed to find common ground as adults? Would I have understood you better? Would you have understood me? Because I’m the same girl. I still love art, and chaos, and I have a filthy mouth that you certainly would disapprove of.”
I wipe my face with the bottom of my shirt. Mascara mars the pale purple fabric, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. Looks like I’m going home before going back to the office.
“So here’s the thing,” I say. “My freak-out was because of you. Let’s go with that. But if that’s the case, it’s because that’s all I know. I only know what you showed me growing up, and, let’s face it, that wasn’t someone telling me they love me for funsies on a Saturday night.”
I blow out a breath as the tears begin to slow.
“Audrey says I think of love as something to be earned and as a form of self-protection. It sounded a little whackadoodle at first, but when I thought about it, I realized she’s right. But as I lay in bed last night, missing Drake and wondering how I could un-fuck this situation, I started to wonder—why were you the way you were? Did you two have trauma as children? What caused you to be so cold? To care so much about what everyone thought? Why did you think it was okay to prioritize everything above Lucia and me?”