I open my eyes. “This is useless. I can’t meditate with you here.”
He leans forward and rests his elbows on his legs. “Do you want to hear the good news now?”
“Shoot.”
“I’m not going to L.A. I’m staying here until everything is sorted out with Abby.”
Hearing him call her Abby, with such familiarity, is painful. I’m so jealous that he got to touch her.
“What about the album?”
“If they can’t wait then I’ll have to scrap it, for now.”
His eyes are locked on mine, gauging my reaction. A warm sensation spreads from my belly and outward into my chest as I finally realize he’s still in love with me. He’s not just doing this to be competitive or out of a sense of obligation.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything, but I’d love it if you could come over this weekend to talk to my mom.” I narrow my eyes at him and he chuckles. “What?”
“Why did you tell Jackie that we were engaged?”
His eyes widen for a moment then he tilts his head. “I never told you this, but after we started having sex she made me promise that I would ask you to marry me.”
“This is a joke, right?”
“No, I’m not joking. She didn’t want to tell you because she really thought I was going to ask you and she wanted it to be a surprise.”
I think back to the months after I turned eighteen, after Chris and I started having sex. Two months after my eighteenth birthday, he took me to Moore Park and gave me a promise ring, but he insisted it wasn’t an engagement ring. It was just a symbol of our promise to love each other for the rest of our lives, even if we broke up. I wish I could say that this was a stupid promise to make when we were so young, but somehow I’ve found it to be a very hard promise to break.
“Don’t let that scare you,” Chris says as if he can read my worried thoughts. “My mom will find out soon enough that you’ve moved on with someone else and she’ll just have to deal with it—like me.”
My fingers reach for the heart-shaped locket as I wonder how Adam would feel about me going to see Jackie. He broke up with me so I wouldn’t have to worry about what he would think. Still, I can’t help but feel like I need his blessing. But I need Jackie now just as much as I need Adam. I need to know that I haven’t broken her trust in me.
“Okay. I’ll go.”
He puts on his hat and sunglasses then grabs his crutches from where they’re leaning against the foot of the bed.
“Hey, you never told me why she thinks we were engaged.”
He stands up on his crutches and his expression is serious. “I’ll tell you some other time.”
We stare at each other for a moment before I decide to let it go. “Whatever.”
He sets off for the door and I scurry over to open it for him. He stands on the threshold for a moment, staring at the floor, before he turns to me.
“Remember when we went to Tristan’s sister’s birthday party two years ago?”
“Molly.”
“Yeah, Molly. When we were leaving, I had to go back inside to get your phone and Molly asked me if you could spend the night. I told her no because you were spending the night with me before you went away to college. She told me that I was lucky and Tristan nearly kicked me when I told her she had no idea just how lucky I was.” He pauses for a moment as his gaze wanders over my face. “You may not be mine anymore, but I’m still lucky to have you in my life.”
I didn’t think it was possible to feel guiltier about my decision to give up Abigail. But as I watch him shuffle away on his crutches, I realize that he is much stronger than I gave him credit for.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Adam
BY THE TIME I REACH the water, I can’t feel my hands. I’m not sure if I’m more stunned or angry. I trudge through the water, forcing myself not to look back in Lindsay’s direction, then I do the math in my head. Lindsay and I broke up in the end of March. It’s now the end of September. Six months. There’s no way she’s less than six months pregnant. Fuck! How long was she cheating on me?
I duck dive under a ten-footer then resurface next to Carlos Ferreira. I nod at him and keep paddling until I’m past the breaks. The sun warms my skin between each breeze and I breathe in the salty fragrance of the Pacific Ocean. As much as I love the Atlantic, the Pacific Ocean just seems to have an electric quality, a life that the Atlantic doesn’t have. If I could live on the Pacific I would. I’d pack up all my things, buy a boat, drop anchor, and never look back.