Page 44 of Before We’re More Than Friends (When We Faced the Music #1)

Raina

M y short interaction with Dallas still weighed on my chest as I entered the shelter. If Mrs. Landers paired me with him today, I’d quit there on the spot. I wouldn’t do it.

I wouldn’t forgive him that easily.

Maybe one day. But not now.

Thankfully, Dallas and I weren’t paired together on the task list. I sighed in relief before getting cat food for my first task.

In the hallway, Leanne walked past me and turned around. “Oh, good afternoon, Raina.” She gave me her usual smile, but she looked different. Even through her glasses, I could see that her makeup looked sloppy like she’d applied it on in a hurry. “I missed you yesterday.”

“Good afternoon.” I smiled, though the last thing I wanted to do was talk to the mother of the boy who’d made me cry my eyes out all weekend.

“Want to come into my office when you’re done?” she asked.

I was about to say I was too busy, but the glint in her eyes was too hopeful to crush. “Sure. ”

“Great.” She smiled again before walking away.

After feeding the cats, I went into Leanne’s office, where she typed away at her computer.

“Hey,” she said with a grin, pushing what looked like a wad of tissues in the trash next to her.

“Hey.” I sat in the chair in front of her desk. “No animals right now?”

She shook her head. “Just been doing computer work for most of the day. The other vets are getting stuff done with the animals.”

“Cool.” I looked around the office, noticing some new pictures on the wall. Dallas’s dimpled smile and his dog greeted me, and my insides twisted. “How have you been?”

“Could be better. It’s been a bad few days, honestly.” She focused on the computer, typing faster than usual. “Family stuff.”

Guilt pinched at me, even though I hadn’t done anything wrong. “I’m sorry.” I scratched the back of my neck, heat flushing my face.

“Listen.” Her eyes, heavier than usual, finally met mine. “I don’t know the full story of what happened between you and Dallas, but I don’t want it to get in the way of anything. That’s for you and him to figure out.”

“Thanks.” I bit my lip. “I don’t know where we stand.”

“I know. But he still cares about you.” A smile spread across her face. “I remember when you first became pen pals, he spent hours in his room writing letters to you. He kept throwing them away until he got them right because he wanted them to be perfect for you.”

My heart, which had hardened the past two days, skipped a beat. Traitor. “He did?”

She nodded. “My husband complained that he was wasting paper and told him to be himself.” She sighed, staring at a picture of her and her family on a cruise. All four of them were smiling, the sea breeze blowing through their hair.

“That’s sweet of them,” I said, a knife twisting in my chest.

“It is.” Leanne sighed, taking off her glasses to rub her face.

“Sorry.” She put her glasses back on. “It’s just been .

. . hard. I know I’ve said this before, but I really feel like I made the wrong choice for my family.

My husband wanted me to wait to move until summer so Kami could finish her senior year, but I had to accept the job offer before December. ”

The ache in my chest expanded. “You didn’t make the wrong choice.”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head, looking at her computer again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you this. It isn’t professional.”

“No, it’s okay. You need someone to talk to.”

She sighed. “It’s been lonely. I truly love it here at the shelter, but then I come home to get dragged down.”

“You don’t deserve that,” I said, my heart clenching. This woman who worked hard every day was hurting more than anyone else could see.

“It’s . . .” Leanne shook her head again. “There’s nothing I can do to change it now. It just breaks my heart sometimes.”

I nodded. “Boys are complicated. That’s why my parents stopped after two girls.”

Her lips curved in a small smile. “I don’t know, girls can be a lot, too.”

“Can’t deny that.” I laughed.

“Anyways, I should let you get to your next task,” Leanne said, typing on her keyboard. “I’m sorry for being a bit emotional.”

“You’re like your son.” I got up from my chair. “You apologize too much.”

She gave me a sad smile. “He gets it from me.” She hung her ponytail over her shoulder. “I really hope you guys resolve things. You were so close.”

“We were . . .” The past tense made my heart ache. “. . . are close.” I still didn’t forgive him yet, but talking to his mom reminded me of how passionate he was. How kind his eyes were and how shy he acted around me because he secretly liked—no, loved —me.

Gosh, don’t think about that! Don’t think of him that way !

“Not until you’re ready, of course,” Leanne said.

“Thank you.” I waved goodbye to her before opening the door and walking out?—

My head slammed against someone’s chest, and I looked up before letting out a groan. “Seriously?”

“Sorry.” Dallas backed away from me as if I was about to hurt him again. “I-I was just going to check on my mom.”

“Well, congrats for being such a great son,” I grumbled before storming out of the way.

“Sorry!” he called out again, but I didn’t look back at him. He really did apologize too much. And yet it still didn’t fix anything.

The spot where he’d bumped into me throbbed, and I rubbed my temples. Gosh, how could his chest be that hard?

I hadn’t noticed it before.

No! I screamed at myself, fire burning in my cheeks. You can’t be thinking about his chest! You’re mad at him!

That had to be an intrusive thought. There couldn’t be another reason why that had popped into my mind.

You need to be careful next time , I told myself as I walked into the break room. Thankfully, no one was in here to see me flushed and angry like this. Again. Look where recklessness has gotten you .

You can’t afford to keep getting hurt.

After dinner and doing my homework, I frowned at the letter Dad had sent me. I still had no idea how to respond to it. If I wanted to answer it. He didn’t deserve an answer.

Unforgiveness didn’t give me the strength it had before, but I didn’t want to be weak for forgiving so easily.

Gosh .

I grabbed a purple pen out of my cup holder, but ten minutes later, I ended up with four crumpled pages. They were different variations of the same thing. I still don’t understand why you did this and why you can’t explain yourself .

How did you reply to someone who blew everything you knew into smoke for no reason?

Was everything he had still not enough?

Why don’t you love us enough? Arielle’s words echoed through my head. Mom loved us enough to start changing. Why hadn’t Dad loved us enough to follow the law?

Arielle called me for dinner, and I went downstairs to join her and Mom at the table.

After Mom said grace in Italian, Arielle asked, “How was the help group today?”

“It went well,” Mom said with a grin, genuine and bright. “I’ve met some new people. It’s interesting to hear about what others are going through.” She bit her lip, looking at the wedding ring on her finger. “Having an addiction can be lonely.”

I reached for her hand, and she squeezed mine. “I’m glad you’re getting help,” I said. “How long have you been sober?”

“The last time I drank was the twenty-first. So eight days. It’s the longest I’ve been sober since I’d started drinking again.”

“I’m proud of you,” Arielle said, her lips curving in a smile .

“Me too,” I said, smiling as well. The longest that Mom had been sober since she’d started drinking again was probably four days. This was twice that. It wasn’t much, but it was the progress we were looking for.

We were finally going to get our mom back.

“Have things gotten better for you, Raina?” Mom asked as she took a bite of her garlic bread. “I know this weekend was very difficult.”

“I survived.” I’d managed to avoid Dallas for the rest of the day, trying to consume myself in my tasks so I wouldn’t think about him. About how firm his chest was when I’d bumped into him and how it made my skin flush.

Stop it! It’s just a chest. Plenty of guys have chests like that. He probably just has a good workout routine.

I wonder how often he works out.

No, stop! Retreat!

“Are you still mad at me?” Arielle asked after she devoured her garlic bread, now picking at her pasta.

“A little bit,” I muttered as I ate.

She nudged my shoulder. “Only a little?”

I sighed. “Fine, I forgive you now. But next time something like this happens”—not that I anticipated having another lovesick pen pal move to my city, meet me in real life, and ghost me—“please tell me when you suspect that something isn’t right, okay?”

She nodded. “I will.”

“There you go,” Mom said, satisfaction in her voice. “That didn’t take too long to resolve.”

“That’s the only part of the situation that has been resolved,” I grumbled. “I’m still heartbroken and humiliated.”

“I understand.” Mom took a bite of her pasta. “It’ll take a while to adjust to things since you trusted him.”

Trusting people felt like trying to eat fresh pasta while it was too hot. It never cooled down, burning me over and over again.

“Yeah.” I swallowed. “So I was thinking about the letter Dad sent me. I don’t know what to say to him.” I looked at Arielle. “What about you?”

“I’m on the same boat.” She scratched the back of her neck. “I don’t want to ignore him, but it’s still too soon to let him in.”

“He wrote me a letter, too,” Mom said. “I responded to him, and I just got his response back today. We’re trying to schedule to meet each other on Sunday.” She gave a small smile, her cheeks flushing. “I’m excited to finally see him in person again.”

“Maybe I can come with you,” I blurted before thinking twice, admitting defeat.

Crap, I couldn’t forgive him like that! It hadn’t even been a month since the arrest.

He hadn’t even acted like he’d wanted to change.

Mom raised an eyebrow. “Really? You think you’re ready?”

“Maybe. I don’t want to write a letter to him.” But then I thought about how seeing him in person might be even worse. Seeing his face, with his piercing eyes and faint smile—would he even smile?—would make me fall apart. “I don’t know,” I said. “I’ll think about it.”

Mom nodded before her gaze went to Arielle. “What about you?”

“Hard pass,” Arielle said, her voice just as stiff as her body language. “I’m not seeing him for a long time.”

“I understand.” Mom chewed the inside of her cheek. “Let me know if you reconsider.”

Arielle slowed down her eating pace. “I won’t.”

We finished our dinner, and I went back into my room to put on my playlists while packaging some orders. Business was still running slow, but I needed to stay consistent. To remind myself that at least something was good about my life .

I looked through the information of the people who had requested orders, but there was one name that had caught me off guard.

Isabelle Wilcox. San Francisco, California. Two purple bracelets with pearls .

My heart skipped a beat. Was I reading the name wrong? Was this another Isabelle Wilcox?

I opened my Raining Gems Instagram account to see that Isabelle had started following me yesterday. What the heck was going on?

I clicked on her profile. She’d changed her picture to one of her smiling while on the rooftop of a building, her dark skin glowing in the city light.

Her hair was done in long, beautiful box braids with a light brown ombre.

She’d updated her bio and used my favorite Helen Keller quote.

Her feed still looked the same, though her story highlights were now purple instead of blue. Purple was my favorite color.

Yeah, like my old best friend would redecorate her account to make it cater to me.

She hadn’t even bothered to like a single post from my personal account in two and a half years.

She only still followed me on there because she followed over four thousand people.

It would’ve been a nightmare for her to do an unfollowing spree.

Raina

Hey, I saw you left an order for Raining Gems. I didn’t know you still kept up with my shop. I’ve missed you.

I quickly deleted the message and tried to come up with something else. After four failed message drafts, I closed the app. I didn’t have the brain capacity to think about this.