Page 51 of Anything (Mayberry University #1)

CHAPTER FIFTY

Kit,

I’d appreciate the opportunity to apologize before my flight tonight.

—Levi

He wants to apologize. I crumple the note and then smooth it out on my knee. The clock says 5:30. He’s going to sit there all through dinner? Ayumi slinks back to the lounge.

This is my next step, huh? I don’t think I can talk to him again. What if I undo my progress?

Right. Trust you with it. Trust, trust, trust.

I splash my face at the sink, knot my hair, and shuffle to the lounge to ask the girls about dinner. They walk with me to Saga in solidarity, crushing me with squeezy hugs I desperately need.

I scarf down a bowl of cereal before assembling one of Levi’s Goliath sandwiches and wrapping it in a napkin. Maybe he already got fried chicken next door at the Hive, but I doubt it. Canola oil is not his jam.

Now to Common Grounds. Just because I’m emotionally handicapped doesn’t mean I should treat Levi badly. I can say goodbye like a big girl. It’s the least I can do for him. I try not to squish his dinner as my hands clench with nerves.

There he is. I roll to a stop in the doorway.

He’s at the same table of our first meetup, somber but not spiraling.

What happened with his dad? His Bible lies open, and he loops letters in his journal, careful not to knock his tea.

I stand motionless, like a loon, jumping to life and out of the way each time someone walks in.

It’s creepy to watch him like this, but I’m hooked on the expression on his face while he prays—focused and earnest and at peace.

My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.

Look at him. He gets it. He loves you. I wish things were different. I wish I could keep him.

But I trust you. I trust you to take good care of him.

I square my shoulders, tighten a lock around my heart, and force my legs to move. They slow-mo an exaggerated step out of the doorway and catch some weird looks from a group walking past me. Don’t mind me, just getting my lunges in. Just a few more steps.

“Hi.” I thrust my arm out with my protein-packed offering.

Ever the gentleman, he stands in greeting. He takes in the sandwich eagerly, but my face more so. “Thanks, Kit. I’ve—I’m really glad you came. Can I get you a mocha? Decaf?”

“No, thank you.” I sit, and he follows suit.

He gulps down the beastly sandwich in sixty seconds flat. My lips twitch. He really is hungry to forego his impeccable table manners. I’m relieved to have a last minute to stare at him uninterrupted. I won’t let myself do this after today.

He finishes swallowing sheepishly. “Excuse me for that. Samwise recommended two-a-days.”

I try not to picture him at the gym, all sweaty and strong, hair doing that thing, dragging around his favorite water bottle.

This is not helping. I shouldn’t have come.

Wait, no. I’m not calling the shots, right?

And this felt like the next step. But I want him to go first so I can escape after my part.

My head swims. Whatever that is. “How is—“ I shake the sentence away. I can’t really ask, can I? He said we’re finished. “Never mind.”

“Do you mind if we walk?” he asks.

I stand, careful to ooch out the dangerous metal chair.

He collects his things in the Jesus backpack before leading me out. “My father put out a press release about his experience with Capgras syndrome. It’s a delusion disorder.”

“A press release?” It just slid out, as if shock greased up my throat.

“It’s part of the PR firm’s elaborate plan. He is who we thought he was, but this is a turning point. On his terms, of course. His symptoms are well managed with consistent antipsychotics, so it was past time he let go.”

“So, the blackmailers …”

“Deflected for now, and the FBI’s problem.

You know, it was my mother who managed to convince him that we can’t live this way anymore.

This ordeal has been oddly healing for them.

” He meets my gaze and swallows thickly.

“But I’ll get to the point. I’m sorry for being harsh with you.

I shouldn’t have snapped like I did, even out of protectiveness.

I’m disappointed, to be frank, but Samwise made me see that I expected too much from your original reaction.

I should have given you time to process. ”

He wasn’t cagey. He told Austin the whole truth.

“Pushing you away was a serious error in judgement.” He glances at me sheepishly.

I hesitate. “You said protectiveness … of your privacy? You thought I was going to tell someone?”

“No, protective of my father. I really didn’t expect disgust from you. I love him, flawed as he is.”

“Disgust …? Not at all. I can’t believe you thought …” But of course he did. I rub my forehead. It’s time. I have to do it. But how?

Give me the courage .

“Are you open to continue discussing,” he asks formally, “or would you prefer to complete our conversation here?” Before I can reply, “I ask because I’d like to share another piece of information—unrelated to my family.

It isn’t fair for me to have kept it to myself when I insisted you share your own. ”

I bob my head.

“I was … serious with a girl in high school. It took me too long to realize that she was only with me for my family’s reputation, our opportunities.

I was raised to be on my guard for that kind of thing, but”—he shrugs a shoulder—“it felt real. That was almost three years ago. Maybe it seems small, but it’s … embarrassing to me. Mortifying.”

She was only with him for his family’s reputation?

I flash back to the first time I saw Levi.

He seemed so invulnerable, so strong. I remember assuming he was someone who would make a trophy out of a girl, never that someone had once made a trophy out of him.

I’ve been too caught up in my own story to see him clearly.

I know too well what it’s like to be used, tricked.

I send him a gentle glance. “So you swore off girls.” Shared secrets have always drawn us close, but that’s not what this is for.

I’m here to maintain the separation but more peacefully.

I was right to be afraid of losing my resolve.

I shove my hands into my pockets, pull them out, rub the back of my neck.

Help.

“Until you,” he says. “I never knew who I could trust, and dating leaves both people a mess.”

“No kidding.” I mean to lighten the mood, but the words fall heavy between us.

He opens Arma Chapel’s creaky door for me and flicks on a light.

It’s cold but peacefully empty inside. So much for a sanctuary.

My favorite building on campus might be ruined for me after today.

He positions two cushioned chairs to face each other behind the pews, angles his backpack against his chair, and motions for me to sit in the other.

“God used the thing with Genevieve. In the aftermath I started searching for something else. That’s when I found Jesus.

I moved here and eventually met you.” That light flickers in his eyes.

“It’s wicked frustrating that you won’t tell me what’s going on, especially after I’ve been so vulnerable with you, but I deeply regret that I ended things the way I did, and so suddenly.

I didn’t give you any time to rethink or explain.

I care about you too much to let you go over one mistake. Will you forgive me?”

The lock around my heart loosens another notch as he humbles himself to ask for forgiveness. Again. That’s a relationship green light if I’ve ever seen one. But it doesn’t matter. And this is only making moving on harder.

He squeezes his Tic Tac box, and a rush of affection crashes over me.

“I can’t believe that girl,” I blurt. It makes no sense.

How could someone not like Levi for everything he is?

I rub my eyes. Focus. “Yes, I forgive you. But as for your dad, it’s safe to say you have no idea what was going through my head on Thursday night.

But how could you?” Panic wells in my stomach. I can’t. I can’t do it.

For everything there is a season … a time to keep silence, and a time to speak.