Page 30

Seventeen
Patrick
I shouldn’t have doneit. Insist that she stay here instead of with Tess. It would’ve been easier on us both if she did. All I know is when she said she was moving home, I felt like someone reached into my chest and popped my lungs like a pair of balloons. I couldn’t breathe. The thought of her leaving... I panicked. Said the only thing I could think of to buy myself another day with her.
I need more time.
Not to convince her to stay or to be with me. I know I can’t do that. I’m the reason she’s leaving. I know that... I just need to wake up one more morning, knowing she’s here. That she hasn’t left me yet. Not yet. That there’s still a chance, even if I’ve been too chicken shit to take it.
I spent the night steeped in booze. Thursday is Ladies’ Night at Gilroy’s—there is no shortage of single women and do a shot with me! is their battle cry. I lost count at eight.
I remember stumbling up the stairs around 3 AM. Standing in the kitchen, I toss back a fistful of Ibuprofen and a couple of bottles of water, staring at the crack of light leaking from beneath Cari’s door. She’s awake.
Don’t make this any weirder or harder than it already is.
Like that’s even possible.
She doesn’t want you.
I deserve to know why.
You promised, asshole.
Yeah, I promised.
“Fuck.” I mutter it, passing her room to pinball my way down the hall to my own. Kicking my door shut with a resounding clap, I lock it before face-planting in my bed.
Regardless of my late night, I keep to my schedule. I get up at 5 AM and go for a run, thanking god for what Uncle Paddy calls our Irish Constitution. When I come home, I shower. I dress for work. I eat a bowl of cereal while I wait for the coffee to finish brewing. Her door is still shut, and it takes everything I’ve got to leave it that way. I want to open it, just to make sure she’s still here. I want to, but I don’t because I promised I wouldn’t. I promised to leave her alone. To not make this any weirder or harder than it already is. She’s leaving, and I’m going to let her. Spying her car keys, tossed on the counter, next to the toaster, I palm them. Stuff them in my pocket.
I check my phone between bites, scrolling through texts. The first one is from Declan, reminding me that we’re meeting with the insurance adjuster on-site at 9 AM. The rest are from Sara.
Sara:Please let me explain.
Sara:I need to talk to you.
Sara:Please, Patrick. Just
answer your phone.
Sara:I’m sorry.
Nothing she didn’t say to me when I chased her out the door after the meeting with her father.
“Why?” I said. Even though I knew, I wanted to hear her say it. “What did Cari ever do to you?”
For a second, she looked like she was going to deny it. Act like she didn’t know what I was talking about. Then her face hardened. Her gaze shifted like she couldn’t look me in the eye. “You know what she did.”
“It’s not her fault I’m in love with her,” I told her. “That’s on me. You want to punish someone, it should’ve been me.”
She reaches for my arm. “I love you,” she says it like it should mean something. Like I should feel the same way.
“We were together for five weeks, Sara,” I say, pulling myself free. “I don’t think you love me, I just think no one has ever told you no before.”
“She’s not good enough for you.” She turns ugly. Desperate. “Did you see that video? She—”
“Yeah, I saw it.” I nod my head, rubbing my hand across my mouth because thinking about it makes me a little sick. “And on her worst day, Cari is still the best person I know. A thousand times better than you could even hope to be.”
“Patrick—” She reaches for me again, and I push her hand away.