Unforgiven(60)

Reagan sets down a glass of tea in front of me, along with a plate of assorted cheeses, yogurt, fresh fruit, a granola bar, some wheat crackers, and some cut-up vegetables. My eyes must have widened in horror because she begins laughing.
“I don’t expect you to eat all of that.” She giggles. “But you have to eat something. I just didn’t know what you’d like, or what your stomach could handle, so just pick at what you want.” Landon laughs through his nose before sipping on his iced tea.
“So what are your plans?” he asks cautiously.
“I’m checking into rehab tomorrow,” I tell him as I tear the foil cover off the container of strawberry yogurt. Reagan sets a spoon down in front of me as she joins us back at the table. “And I’ll play it by ear from there, I guess.” I spoon a small bite of the cool yogurt into my mouth and let it settle on my tongue. It tastes good and feels refreshing as it slides down my throat. I notice my hand shaking as I set the spoon down to rest on the edge of the plate. “A lot of it will be dependent on how long my treatment is, I guess. A lot is up in the air.”
“I think that’s a great start, Linds,” Reagan says with a sincere smile. “And you are welcome to stay here as long as you want and or need to.”
“Well, considering your wedding is just around the corner, I plan to be gone by then. Just what you want to come home to after your honeymoon is Landon’s baby sister in your house.” I wink at her.
“Lindsay, we mean it. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need us. You’ll always be welcome here,” Landon says seriously. I feel my throat tightening, but I’m able to choke out another grateful “Thank you” without completely falling apart. I swallow another spoonful of yogurt and set down the spoon. “There is one thing. Can I borrow one of your cars tonight? There is something I have to do before I check in tomorrow.” Reagan looks cautiously at Landon before turning to me.
“Of course. You can take my car whenever you need it.”
“I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you both,” I say quietly.
“Get better, Linds. That’s how you can repay us. Just get better,” Landon says as he reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.




 
 
I set my large suitcase by the front door alongside the backpack. My keys, passport, and wallet all sit on the sofa table so that I don’t forget anything. I glance at the clock that hangs on the living room wall. It reads eight twenty-eight p.m. Melissa said she’d be here around eight thirty. I pull a beer from the refrigerator and twist off the top just as the doorbell rings.
“Doors open,” I holler from the kitchen. I hear the door squeak open. “In the kitchen,” I say, pressing the cool bottle to my lips. Her footsteps echo off the wood floor and suddenly stop before she gets to the kitchen. I step around the kitchen island and stop dead in my tracks when I see Lindsay standing in my living room. She has stopped in front of the empty shelf that used to hold all of our pictures. Two nights ago, in anger, I removed all of the pictures and the shelf sits with empty frames. I’ll always hold the memories in my heart, but I couldn’t stand the constant reminder of what used to be.
My heart races when I see her—a battle of emotions, anger, and relief. She stares at the empty shelf until I get her attention. “Lindsay?” She quickly wipes under her eyes and I see her chin trembling.
“Hi,” she is barely able to squeak out. “I’m sorry to come by unannounced, but I was afraid you wouldn’t see me,” she says, twisting her fingers around each other nervously. I don’t say anything, but stand and look at the stranger standing in front of me—skinny and lost.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “In North Carolina, I mean.”
“I flew back with Landon,” she says quietly. Her oversized purse hangs from her bony shoulder. “I’m going to check myself into a rehab program tomorrow.”
“Here in Wilmington?” I ask, setting the beer bottle on the kitchen island. She shakes her head.
“Outside of Raleigh,” she says quietly. “Did I catch you at a bad time? I see there is luggage by the front door.”
“Yes. I mean, no. I’m leaving for Europe tomorrow morning, early.” I don’t mean to sound vague, but I’m caught off guard that she’s actually standing in front of me. She nods quickly.
“I won’t take much of your time, but do you have a couple of minutes to talk? There’re a few things I need to tell you.” I watch the frail girl standing before me and sadness overcomes me for how sick she looks and how quickly we’ve become strangers.