“Everything alright?” Ben asks. “Toni?” He follows up when I don't immediately answer.
“Yeah.” I swallow hard. “It's...Just something I forgot about. No big deal. Thanks for sending it. I gotta go.” My words trip over themselves as I rush to hang up.
My name, in David's precise hand, is the only word on the front of the card sitting on top of the mystery package's wrapped contents.
I've never hated the look of my own name more.
A slight tremor moves through me as I open the card.
Stop being so dramatic,I chastise myself. It’s just a package. Not a threat. Not something to cause me to freak out.
Toni,
I was cleaning and found some little things that were yours or made me think of you and wanted you to have them.
I hope they remind you of all the good parts of us, all the parts I know I don't want to lose forever.
Love,
David
It may not be a cause to freak out, but anger seems reasonable. The fury doesn't have time to sink in before Lucy texts me, letting me know she’s here.
Fuck.I swallow hard, trying to force a deep breath and failing.
I had been looking forward to this girls’ night with Lucy all week—shopping, dinner, drinks, and a screening ofRomeo + Julietat the indie theatre. The absolute last person I was willing to let ruin this was David. And yet...my mouth goes dry.
After a few minutes without a response, Lucy calls me, pulling me from my frozen state.
If I don't answer, she's likely going to knock. If she knocks, she may ask to come inside. If sheasks to come in, I'd have to find a better reason to tell her no than my place being a disaster zone.
I wish the box had been anthrax.
“Hey.” I grimace at the way my voice cracks.
“Hey . . . You ok?”
I softly clear my throat. “Yeah. Dehydrated.” My light tone sounds like such bullshit. “I'll be right out.”
Tossing the box aside, I slip into my sneakers while trying to physically shake the tension out of my shoulders. The box could be future me's problem. Current me was going to have a fun night.
“What's weighing on you?”Lucy asks as she inspects a deck of tarot cards at the bookstore.
The question catches me off guard. “Nothing,” I answer reflexively. I thought I'd been putting on a pretty good front so far. Lucy side-eyes me so hard it's a wonder I don't fall over.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans against the wall. “Let's get this out of the way: My two best and oldest friends are reformed Catholic boys, and one had the audacity to become a Marine. I can clock emotional suppression at 100 paces.” She slides a pointed nail under the plastic covering the cards. “So either tell me or...”
With a Cheshire-like grin, she pulls the deck free, shuffling it with long, agile fingers. “The cards can tell me for you.”
I can't help but laugh. “Did you just commit to buying those purely for the bit?”
“Maybe.” She winks, continuing to shuffle. “Seriously. Something is up.”
I lean against the wall beside her and sigh as I slide to the floor. Lucy does the same, shoulder pressed against mine.
“My ex sent me a box of—I don't actually know whatany of it is. I opened it right before you got to my place, and I didn't look.”
“I take it you're not exactly on good terms with this ex?”
