Page 81 of Free to Live

The picture is screaming at me wordlessly, asking me if after everything if the man in the image is enough.

For me.

“Oh, my God,” I breathe.

Quickly, I scroll back through the photos to get to the beginning. Damn, it’s like a reverse flip book where the character dances in the corner of the page. Only this is a reverse striptease or in my case a reverse open-heart surgery without any anesthetic.

When I reach the first shot Joe took, I zoom in as close as I can as on his face reflected in the mirror. There’s nothing hidden from me. He’s daring me to pretend I can’t see everything he’s feeling at that moment: anxious, afraid, terrified that he ruined our friendship, lust, and something else that has tears burning in the back of my eyes.

Lowering my camera onto the table, I put my head into my hands. Rubbing my head to ease the pain, I feel an ache in my chest. This wasn’t supposed to happen. We were just supposed to be friends.

How did we both wind up getting lost in each other?

Now, what am I supposed to? Even though he knows some of everything, he doesn’t know it all. After seeing the blooming love on his face for me—and God, I recognize it as often as I’ve taken photos of my in-laws staring at my siblings—how do I handle it when he turns away because of the rest of my past? Our past?

My chest heaves as I try to hold in the sobs desperate to break free. Blindly, I reach for my phone. Unlocking it with my thumb, I quickly pull up my Favorites.

One ring. Two.

Cassidy’s sweet voice answers. “Hols? What’s wrong?”

I get out a single word, “Amaryllis,” before the tears start to leak from my eyes. I don’t know that anyone in our family has ever said it—the one word to tell our family to stop whatever it is they’re doing and come to wherever we are. It means the person who says it is essentially dying—emotionally or physically—the way Amaryllis did out of love for Alteo each time she pierced her heart with the golden arrow to give him that which he most desired.

Right now, I’m saying it because I’m the one broken and bleeding. I hurt so badly because I can’t go any further with my life of lies on my conscience.

Not when I’m falling in love.

“Where are you?” she demands.

“The Coffee Shop,” I whisper.

“I’ll be right there,” she says, right before she disconnects.

A few minutes later, Cassidy strides past the waning crowd. Ava opens her mouth to greet her but changes her mind at the frightened look on Cassidy’s face. My knee is bouncing up and down under the table. I’m sick to my stomach.

Much like Joe did, Cassidy immediately reaches for my hand. “Who knows, Holly?”

My response comes out jumbled. “No one knows. It’s who I want—no, need—no, want… God, I can’t do this without him knowing everything.” Even as I find a spot of ketchup on the wall immensely intriguing, I feel my sister’s finger’s tightening.

“Joe.” It’s not a question. My head snaps around, and my lips part. Her lips soften into a smile. “I think the only two people who didn’t realize your relationship was becoming something more were the two of you.”

I let out a small moan. If I’m this transparent to my family, what must I have said or done in front of Joe…

“Absolutely nothing,” she tells me, mortifying me further when I realize I must have spoken out loud. “Holly, you—”

“Scoot over,” Ali interrupts us.

Cassidy scowls. “What are you doing here? I told you I had this handled.”

“And I told you there’s no way in hell you’ll be able to handle this on your own.”

Despite my own heartache, I can’t help the corners of my lips lifting. Automatically, I reach for my camera, but Ali presses my hand down gently.

“No, Hols. Not now.” I blink uncomprehendingly.

“You’re finally taking steps to stop hiding behind a past that held you back from living,” Cassidy whispers. “Tell him whatever you need to, baby.”

“But Phil, Em, Cori…” I rattle off my siblings’ names even as Ali begins to shake her head.