Unforgiven(84)

“Lindsay Lou?” I whisper to myself, questioning the nickname. I pull my phone from my purse and shoot him a text message
“You’re insane.” My phone beeps almost immediately.
“I am, but I needed to see you smile before you left.”
“I’m smiling because you’re nuts.”
“I know. Take care of yourself.”
“You too, Jonah.”
And just like that, I can smile and remember Jonah as a happy memory of my time in Phoenix.
 

 
I board the plane in Phoenix and hardly have time to get settled before we start to descend into Orange County, California. It’s barely an hour-long flight and even though it’s warm in California, it’s considerably cooler than Phoenix. I know I’m miles from the ocean, but having grown up near the water, I can still smell it. It’s close enough. I spend the next hour getting my rental car and programming Jess and Gabe’s address into my navigation system. I merge into the insane California traffic and begin my journey to Santa Ruiz.
Two and half hours later, after I’ve white knuckled the bumper-to-bumper Southern California traffic and made one stop for the restrooms, I’m pulling into a quaint older neighborhood in Santa Ruiz. I park in front of the address that Gabe sent me and smile when I see the cute bungalow. It’s been completely remodeled and almost looks brand new. There is a gorgeous wraparound porch with a giant porch swing and I spot Jess immediately in the swing. She doesn’t notice I’ve pulled up because she’s lost in a book.
I kill the engine and step out of the car just in time to see Gabe come out the front door. He smiles at me and that’s when Jess looks up from her book. She stands up from the swing and sets her book down behind her. I walk up the driveway and Jess comes down the steps of the porch, meeting me on the sidewalk.
“Lindsay?” she says with a look of disbelief on her face. Her long, brown hair blows in the breeze and her fingers wrap themselves around the end of her long-sleeved t-shirt.
“Hi, Jess.” I smile at her.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was hoping to talk to you if that would be okay?” My heart hammers in my chest as I look at my best friend, the one I hurt so badly with my words. She’s wearing her poker face, and I can’t tell if she’s happy or upset to see me.
“Yes, of course. Do you want to come inside? I have water or lemonade…”
“Lemonade would be great.” I follow her up the steps of her front porch and onto the wooden patio. Gabe smiles at me as he leans against a large, wooden pillar.
“Nice to see you again, Linds,” he says warmly. I reach out and give him a hug.
“Thank you,” I whisper in his ear. He nods and gives me a quick hug back before I release him and follow Jess into the house. Stepping inside, I catch my breath at how beautiful their house is. Real wood floors and gorgeous custom windows all trimmed in custom wood trim and molding. The finishes are all modern and trendy, but the furnishings make the house warm, comfortable, and inviting. I follow Jess into the kitchen, where she’s filling two glasses with lemonade.
“Let’s go sit out back.” She gestures to the back patio. There is a set of French doors off the kitchen that lead us out to a huge wood deck in the backyard. There is built-in seating around the edge of the deck, but a huge patio table sits in the center of the deck and we take a seat at the table. I sink into the oversized plush chairs and enjoy the cool breeze on my face.
“I guess you’d like me to explain what I’m doing here, huh?” I smile at Jess. She nods as she takes a sip of lemonade and swallows. “I came here to apologize, Jess. I am so sorry for how I treated you in Phoenix. I’d love to blame it on the pills, the wine; anything other than me—but I can’t. I was a horrible friend and placed blame on you when it should have been on me.”
I watch her large, green eyes look me over. She’s skeptical, and I don’t blame her. “I accept your apology,” she says quietly. She relaxes a bit and sits back into her chair. Her face is calm, forgiving.
“That’s it? You forgive me just like that?”
She lets out a long sigh before she smiles genuinely at me. “If there was anything your brother taught me while I was in North Carolina, it’s that you have to forgive to move forward. We’d all be stuck in a vicious cycle of anger, hate, and resentment if we didn’t learn how to forgive others—but most importantly, ourselves.”
“He taught you that? Landon? Our Landon?”
She chuckles. “Well, your Landon, not my Landon. But yes, he did.” I see her fingers go to her wrist, where she unknowingly rubs her white script tattoo.