Page 137 of Meant to Be

I stop when I see Nick sitting on his front step, his head between his hands.

A mixture of guilt and sadness spreads through me. Just like Jess said, he didn’t deserve this.

“Nick,” I say. “Hey.”

He looks up, saying nothing.

“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper, my lower lip trembling. “I’m a fucking terrible person.”

He stares down at the ground before finally meeting my gaze.

“I know saying sorry doesn’t undo all of the things I’ve done, but I truly am.”

He nods. “I know.”

My limbs feel heavy as I release a breath, stepping back.

“I’m sorry, Nick. For everything.”

After our eyes linger on each other for a painful heartbeat too long, I turn and race to my car, trying to hold in all the emotions threatening to consume me. I’m not good at this. Confrontation. Apologies. I’d rather run away and leave it all behind. But that’s not me anymore. Josie Mayor owns her mistakes.

On the way home, I stop by Elise’s grave again. I sit in front of it, my fingers woven into the grass. I let myself feel everything. The pain, the hurt, and everything in between.

“I wish you were here,” I whisper. “You’d know what to do. What to say.”

When an elderly couple pulls up to the cemetery, I wipe my cheeks and return to my car. My heart stutters inside my chest, when I see Nick on my front porch.

I walk past him and unlock the door. I quickly unload the few things I bought before I head back to the door and lean on the frame.

“You coming in?”

Slowly, he stands, and brushes past me. He takes a seat on the lounge and I follow suit, tucking my legs underneath me. I don’t know if it’s because I’m nervous, or because the house has been locked up for the day, but it seems to double in temperature within minutes.

My fingers twist the bottom of my shirt. The tension between us makes it hard to breathe.

“It’s always been him, hasn’t it?” he asks.

I hang my head. “I’m so sorry, Nick.”

“Did you ever love me?”

I lean my head back onto the lounge. “You know I did.”

“But not as much as him.”

“It’s complicated.”

“It really wasn’t, but you made it complicated.” Nick blows out a heavy breath, rubbing across his jaw, staring across the small living room. I follow his gaze, seeing his eyes resting on my recent painting.

“How could you be with him again, after everything?”

“It wasn’t him.” I lean onto my arm and rub my eyes. “It’s a long story, but it was Brennon who posted the video. He got Harley wasted and convinced him that he did it. Harley always said he wouldn’t have ever done it, but couldn’t really remember. But Brennon admitted it to me that he was the one who posted it.”

Nick is silent. “And you believe that?”

I nod. “Yes.”

Nick shakes his head and stands. His eyes fill with unshed tears and my heart squeezes. I shove to my feet and place my hands on his shoulders.