I swallow a lump of emotion that’s trying to choke me.
“I love you and I always will, but I’m going to live for me now. I hope I’ll make you proud.”
Standing, I wipe a stray tear, turn around, and I walk away from them.
I only live a few minutes from the cemetery and can cut through to my house, so the walk is quicker than the car. Even though it’s freezing, and my fingers are going numb, I needed the fresh air.
I can’t be sure what my future will look like, but saying goodbye to the past is a good place to start.
When I get home, I trudge upstairs. I change back into my pyjamas, and I curl up in bed and close my eyes.
Perhaps I should have stayed up and done something productive.
My body is tired. Nothing feels worthwhile.
I have a heart that’s taken too many hits recently, and I’ve no idea how to repair it. Not even time will stitch up the hole left by Spencer.
I’m about to drift off to sleep when I hear my front door open. I didn’t lock it, but our neighbourhood is quiet. I already know it will be Wren and Mila.
“Morning, Indie,” Wren says cheerfully.
I groan and turn to face her. They both smile as they sit down on my bed.
“What are you two doing?”
Mila smiles. “Duh. We’re visiting you.”
“We’re hoping you’ve reconsidered calling Spencer,” Wren says.
“Yeah, he got back from London this morning,” Mila adds.
He’s been doing interviews. I haven’t turned the TV on once in three days in case I accidentally saw him.
“You should have seen him on Entertainment News. He’s gorgeous, obviously, but he looked so sad.”
“Mila, stop.” Even thinking about him makes my heart constrict. I haven’t been able to say his name or look at his picture since he left my house.
“You need to talk to Spencer,” Wren tells me.
I wince at her use of his name again. She says it so easily, as if it doesn’t cut me every time I hear it.
I miss laying in his arms all night and waking up sweating because we couldn’t bear to be apart. I miss his smile, the mop of wavy hair on his head, and his gorgeous green eyes. I miss his smell. That scent of home I’m petrified I’ll never experience again.
“I don’t need to talk to him. We’re over.”
Mila throws her hands up. “Come on, Indie. He’s not going back to LA like you thought when you broke up with him. He’s not going anywhere.”
“He will,” I say. “He belongs in LA. He needs to get home and get back to work.”
“Not happening because he is home,” Wren says.
I roll over in bed and face the wall.
“Can you believe she thinks we’ll go if she ignores us?” Mila asks Wren.
I actually don’t believe Mila would leave.
“Crazy. We’re not going anywhere. Remember that time you two stayed at my house all day because I’d had my first fight with Brody after we got together. We’ll get lunch and dinner delivered.”
“Will you both leave?” I groan.
The mattress shifts as one of them gets up. “Okay, so we either all go out for food today, or Wren and I move in here until that happens.”
“Oh my God, Mila! Why aren’t you normal?” I snap, rolling back to face her.
She’s looking at me with her arms folded. “I’m blaming my weird uncle. Got his dodgy genes.”
Jesus.
I close my eyes and take a breath. “I don’t want to go out.”
She shrugs. “Fine. We’ll eat in.”
They really aren’t going to leave. I love these girls, but I can’t have them living with me right now. There is so much of the day that I want to spend alone.
My parents weren’t supposed to affect anyone else’s life. I can handle it just being me, but Spencer lost a movie because of this. That can’t happen again. I can’t risk him resenting me.
I’d rather love and miss him until the day I die.
“All right. I’ll have a shower, and we’ll go out. Is anyone outside?”
“Nope. The press have gone.”
I get off the bed and sigh. “I won’t be long.”
“We’ll wait downstairs for you,” Wren says, tugging Mila’s arm.
I take a slightly longer shower than usual, letting the hot water wash away the nerves. It’s not hugely successful. I wrap a towel around myself with my stomach coiling.
Even washing seems pointless. No one is going to get close enough to smell me.
The girls are waiting for me when I get downstairs. My hair is blow dried, and I applied a little make-up. At least I don’t look like I’m dying inside.
“You look so cute,” Mila says, eyeing my faded denim skirt and coral top. She’s wearing black jeans that look painted on, a white T-shirt with a yellow Nirvana logo splashed on the front, and a black jacket.
She’s effortlessly cool and always looks like she’s having the best time. Behind her warm amber eyes is a need for more.
“Thanks,” I reply, though I’m sure I still look sad. “Where are we eating?”
“Mexican? We’ll go to your favourite restaurant and wear sombreros,” Mila says. “And Wren will ask Brody to pick us up so we can all enjoy some frozen cocktails.”
I bite my lip and smile. It’s absurd to think that I really need a cocktail right now.
“Actually, that does sound good,” I admit.
“Yay!” Wren cheers, pulling her leather jacket on. “I’ll shoot Brody a text. We’ll come get you tomorrow to pick up your car from the restaurant, Mila.”
I follow the girls with a heavy but hopeful heart.
This was a good idea. I’m three mango daiquiris down at two in the afternoon and feeling a little better. There’s a lot to be said for the right company.
I’m stuffed after a massive chicken
