Текст книги "Desperate Chances "

Автор книги: A. Meredith Walters

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

I slammed my palm against the steering wheel as hard as I could.

Fucking moron!

What in the hell had I been thinking?

Gracie was right, I was a mess! I was saying one thing and doing another! It was like I had multiple personalities.

My phone buzzed with an incoming text. I glanced at where it lay in the center console and thought about running far, far away.

Are you coming over? You were supposed to be here thirty minutes ago.

Sophie.

Shit.

Fuck.

God damn it!

I had kissed Gracie.

Jesus, had I kissed her.

And it had been the most incredible, mind-melting kiss.

Not only that but we had spent time together and it was fun. It was just like how we used to be. Without the watching her get drunk and go home with other guys part.

The Gracie she had been lately was the Gracie I had fallen in love with. Sarcastic. Funny. Easy to be around. I remembered how I had dismissed her in the beginning as a flaky college girl only to find out later that she was so much more.

She was smart. She didn’t advertise the fact that she had almost perfect GPA the entire time she was in school. She wrote amazing stories that she sometimes would let me read. But she was guarded about them, almost as though she were afraid for people to see that side of her.

But she let me see it.

Just me.

I loved seeing her in her element today. Interviewing Mrs. Wagner and later taking pictures of the garden. She enjoyed her job. She felt like she was doing something worthwhile. She was happy.

And again, she shared that with me.

So I had let my guard down. The guard that I had only erected after she had pushed me away. One that was meant to keep her out.

And I touched her. I held her hand. I told her I fucking missed her.

And then to complicate an already overly complicated situation, I kissed her. And she had kissed me back.

I could still feel the imprint of her fingers on my back.

Then she had gotten pissed. She had accused me of being wishy-washy. And she had gotten out of my car and walked away.

Again.

But this time, I really freaking deserved it.

Because I was a royal dickweed.

I turned down a tree-lined road and stopped in front of a small cape cod house with a white picket fence. When I parked I quickly typed out a response to Sophie and hit send and then got out of the car.

“Hey, man,” a voice called out. I found Jordan on the porch, scraping off paint from around the windows on the door. His T-shirt was splattered with paint and a bucket and brush sat at his feet.

“Look at you getting all domestic,” I joked, kicking the empty bucket with my boot.

“Who woulda thunk it, right?” Jordan shrugged, dropped the scrapper into the bucket and picking it up.

“So Maysie finally got her picket fence, huh?” I asked with a smile, following him into the house.

“As you know, what Maysie wants, Maysie gets,” Jordan replied, closing the door behind me and turning on the foyer light.

“This is a great place,” I said, looking around.

“Thanks. I know it’s not some mansion in Beverly Hills with a pool or anything, but we love it. It’s got a big yard, plenty of room and Maysie has her whirlpool bathtub. We’re happy.” He flipped on the kitchen light and opened the refrigerator and offered me a beer.

I took it and popped the cap, tossing it into the red and white checked trashcan that Maysie obviously picked out. “So what brings you to our neck of the woods? Didn’t I just see your sorry ass this morning?” he asked, tipping back his beer and drinking most of it in one gulp.

He was right. I had just seen him this morning when he came by with more donuts from Maysie. We had tried to jam a bit but with the looming weight of our impending call with Pirate, neither of us was in much of a mood to play.

“Just doing some thinking. Thought I’d come by and check out the new digs,” I remarked offhandedly, sitting down on one of the stools at the island.

“You’ve got that line between your eyebrows. You must be thinking pretty hard then,” Jordan observed with amusement.

“Wrinkles are a dead giveaway, huh?”

“Yep. ’Fraid so. They give you a way every time. Your brow gets all furrowed and you look like your channeling your inner Luke Perry. It’s very angsty,” Jordan stated blandly and I tossed his beer cap at his face. It bounced off his cheek and rolled onto the floor, where he promptly picked it up and threw it away.

“Maysie would have ripped you a new one if she had found it, huh?” I deduced and Jordan made a cutting motion across his throat with his finger.

“I would have been a dead man.”

“Oh how times have changed, Piper,” I chuckled, purposefully using his old nickname. A nickname that didn’t carry any weight anymore. He wasn’t the Pied Piper of Pussy anymore. He was a one pussy dude.

Jordan cupped the back of his neck and looked around the brightly decorated kitchen, a look of disbelief on his face. “If you had told me four years ago that I’d be living in a Cape Cod with a white fence out front about to become a dad, I would have laughed in your face.”

I sputtered and almost choked on my mouthful of beer. I quickly swallowed and wiped my lips with the back of my hand. “Hold up right there! What did you just say?”

Jordan grabbed another couple of beers from the refrigerator and laid them on the counter. “Maysie’s pregnant.”

My eyes almost bugged out of my head. “Fucking hell! Are you serious? How long have you known?”

This changed absolutely everything. And from the look on Jordan’s face he knew that too.

“Two weeks. Maysie took a test right after she got back from the concert in Norfolk.” Jordan took a sip of his beer. “That’s why we wanted to move in here. We needed the room. We wanted a place to raise a family. We wanted a home.”

I slowly peeled the paper off my bottle. “So what does that mean for the Rejects then?”

I knew the answer. He didn’t have to tell me. I saw it written all over his face. Jordan Levitt may look like a tatted up badass but when it came to Maysie, he was nothing but heart. He loved that woman. And now he was going to be a dad. That turned his world—and by association ours—on its head.

“Maysie’s been awesome about the band. She’s been completely supportive—” Jordan began.

“She’s been great. We couldn’t have done it without her. Especially in the beginning.” And it was true. She had been integral in marketing the Rejects and getting our names out there. Before we had a manager she set up interviews, worked with my cousin Josh to get gigs. She was our one-woman publicity powerhouse.

And after we had started to get big, she stayed on the tour, providing all of us the moral support we needed to keep going. She wasn’t just Jordan’s girlfriend, then fiancé. She was our friend.

Jordan put down the beer bottle and crossed his arms over his chest, looking almost defensive. Like he knew what he was going to say wouldn’t go over well and he was preparing himself for my reaction.

“We’re having a baby, man. I can’t go on the road and leave Maysie here to deal with all that on her own. You know she has a shit relationship with her parents and I can’t expect Gracie and Vivian to fill in while I’m out there trying to be a rock star,” he said almost angrily. “And I won’t be the kind of dad that misses out on first steps and night feedings to chase a buck.”

He sighed and looked at me, his face set, his decision made. “Before I met Maysie, my dream was making music. When I met you and the other guys, we all wanted the same thing. To make a living doing what we loved. We were all on the same page. But now…”

“Now you have a new dream,” I filled in for him.

Jordan nodded.

“Maysie is my dream. The family we’re making together, that’s what I want from my life. I can’t stand the thought of leaving her here and going on the road. I won’t do it.” He took a deep breath and delivered the final blow. “So, no matter what is said during that phone call with Pirate, this is it for me. I’m sorry, man.”

I didn’t say anything for a long time. I really didn’t know what to say. I had suspected Jordan was looking for an out for a while. If I was truthful, we all were. Generation Rejects had been created by four kids. Now we were men who had seen both the good and ugly side of the music business. We had experienced the highs and the lows. And while the ride had been great, Garrett had been right when he had said maybe it was time for us to grow up.

It felt like the ending of a chapter. And I couldn’t decide if I was relieved or fucking depressed.

“Have you told Cole and Garrett?” I asked him.

“Garrett knows about Maysie because Riley knows. We haven’t talked about the other stuff but I have a feeling he’s expects it. As for Cole—”

“He’s too busy with his head up Viv’s—”

“Yeah. Exactly. But I think he’ll understand. He and Vivian are looking to settle down. I think he’s going to pop the question,” Jordan said and I almost choked again.

“Cole’s going to propose to Vivian? Where the fuck have I been during these conversations?” I asked in disbelief.

Jordan laughed. “He hasn’t come out and said he’s going to, but he was asking me all sorts of questions about how I asked Maysie to marry me. Then he asked if I thought it would be fucked up if a guy asked a chick when he was going down on her.”

“Was he serious? Jesus,” I muttered.

“His reasoning was that it was when a woman was most agreeable,” Jordan shrugged. “So I think he’ll be okay with my decision.” He looked at me hard. “So that just leaves you really. Are you pissed at me?”

I balled up the paper from my beer bottle and rolled it across the counter, making sure to put it in the trash can so Jordan didn’t get bitched out.

“I’ll be honest, the thought of not being in the band anymore freaks me out. It’s all I’ve known for almost ten years, man,” I explained.

“I get that, Mitch, I really do. But maybe that’s more of a reason to go out there and do something else,” Jordan suggested.

“You, Garrett, and hell even Cole, have their lives sort of planned out. You’re going to be a dad. Garrett’s got Riley and their future together. Cole and Vivian are, surprisingly enough, a sure thing. Then there’s me. I just feel like I’m going to be left dangling in the wind, you know?”

Jordan dropped the empty beer bottles into the trash. “What about Sophie? I thought you guys were solid,” he said.

I snorted. “We’re anything but solid.”

Jordan raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess, this has to do with Gracie.”

“Why would you think that?” I muttered.

“Because you’re Mitch. And she’s Gracie. And the two of you will never be able to leave each other alone,” Jordan stated as though it made perfect sense.

“She told me she didn’t want me over a year ago,” I protested.

“It was over a year ago. A lot can change in three hundred and sixty five days, dude.” Jordan looked at me like I was the world’s biggest idiot. And maybe I was.

“I’m with Sophie,” I argued weakly. That particular excuse didn’t seem like much of an excuse anymore.

“And she’s not who you want to be with,” Jordan added.

I rubbed my temples, trying to lessen the throbbing in my head. “And she’s not who I want to be with,” I agreed.

“Well, it sounds like you have a plan,” Jordan said with a grin.

“A plan? It sounds like a fucking mess to me,” I grunted.

Jordan clasped my shoulder. “Well I guess you’d better get out the mop then.”

“Y ou. God help me, I just want you.”

I rolled over in bed, keeping my eyes resolutely closed, hugging my pillow tightly to my chest, replaying the scene with Mitch over and over in my head.

The look on his face.

The taste of his mouth.

His heart in his eyes.

“You. God help me, I just want you.”

He made me feel things. Dangerous things.

Perfect, out of control things.

I should have told him how I felt. That was the moment to lay it all out on the table.

But there was Sophie…

He had chosen to be with someone else.

After you told him there would never be a chance between you.

A chance.

Chances.

That’s all we were.

Possibilities and almosts.

It was frustrating and heartbreaking. I felt as though I were losing him all over again. Because after that amazing kiss he had driven away.

“I’m sorry.”

We were always apologizing to one another. We were always making mistakes. I was tired of regrets. They were exhausting. They didn’t change anything that had happened.

But I couldn’t help it.

Because I regretted so damn much.

“Gracie, are you up?” Vivian knocked on my bedroom door and before waiting for an answer, she poked her head in. She frowned when she saw me still in bed. “What’s up with you? Don’t you have a meeting at ten? It takes you at least an hour to properly shave and moisturize!”

I snorted. Vivian knew my grooming routine better than I did.

I finally opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. “Yeah, I’m up,” I sighed.

“I won’t be home until late tonight. Cole and I are heading over to the apartment to start moving things in. You’re welcome to come over if you want. We’ll probably order some pizza and stuff.”

I swung my legs out of the bed and grabbed my robe, putting it on. I picked up my phone and checked my messages.

Nothing.

Don’t be disappointed. What did you think would happen? He’d go to his girlfriend and break up with her for you? Just because you shared a stupid kiss?

I put the phone back on the table and pulled clothes out of my closet.

“That’s okay. I’m supposed to have dinner with my parents after work,” I told her. Ugh. Dinner with my parents. I wasn’t in the mood for their lectures and criticisms but there were certain things I needed to set straight with them. I couldn’t go through life not addressing things because they were difficult or uncomfortable.

And I couldn’t spend my life checking my phone waiting for him to call.

Take life by the balls, Gracie Cook!

“Well, you could come by after that. I’m sure by that point you could use some carbs and decent conversation,” Vivian laughed as I passed her on my way to the bathroom.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” I said.

Vivian bit down on her bottom lip, her eyes concerned. “Mays and Jordan said they’d come by and Garrett gets back into town today.” She hesitated before adding, “I don’t think Mitch will be there, if that’s the problem. Cole said he had stuff to do today. So if you’re worrying about a run in—”

“That’s not an issue, Viv. Not anymore.” I drew myself upright, holding my robe closed with one hand and gripping my clothes in the other.

“Okay. Well good. Just please think about coming by. I’d like to show you the place. I need to know you’re okay with all this. I don’t want you to feel as though I’m leaving you high and dry,” Vivian said.

I squeezed Vivian’s arm as I stepped into the bathroom. “You’re moving in with your boyfriend. That’s how things are supposed to go, Viv. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be fine. I promise.” Vivian didn’t look convinced. “Okay, I’ll come by after I leave my parents. I can’t wait to see it.”

Vivian relaxed. “Great! Thank you, G!” She gave me a hug and I dropped my clothes on the floor in her exuberance. We both laughed.

“Okay, now let me get ready. I’ve got places to go and people to see,” I teased, closing the door in her face.

“Well hurry up. I need to do my hair and the light in my room is horrible!” Vivian called out.

After I was finished getting dressed, I checked my phone again.

Still nothing.

My thumb hovered over the keys and I was tempted to send him a text. But what would I say?

Did you dump your girlfriend yet?

Or how about what the hell is your problem? How could you kiss me and drive off like that? What’s wrong with you?

I could always settle on a string of expletives to get my point across.

I sighed. This was ridiculous. I couldn’t leave things like this.

I couldn’t live life in the backseat.

I grabbed my purse. “Vivian, I’m heading out. I’ll see you later tonight,” I yelled.

“Where are you going? You haven’t even had your coffee yet! That’s suicidal!” Vivian said, poking her head out from her room.

I pulled on my coat and wrapped a scarf around my neck. “I—uh—I’ve got something to do this morning. I’ll tell you later.”

Vivian gave me a knowing look. “Okay then, well, tell me later.”

Then I realized I was without wheels. That put a significant cramp in my Go-Gracie-you-can-do-it mood.

“Can I borrow your car? Just until I can pick mine up later this afternoon?” I asked her.

Vivian nodded. “Cole can give me a lift to work, not a problem. We can meet up after you leave work to get your car.” She tossed me her keys and I gave her a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Viv, you’re the best.”

I left quickly, before I could talk myself out of the craziness I had planned.

I drove the entire way to Garrett’s house with knots in my stomach.

What was I doing?

Why was I driving out there first thing in the morning?

I pulled my car up beside Garrett’s van and got out. I didn’t see Mitch’s car.

Shit. He wasn’t home.

I stood there, feeling like a fool for a long time.

What would I have even said if he had been there?

“Hey you. What are you doing here at nine in the morning?”

I glanced up to the porch to see Garrett in a tattered pair of jeans and a T-Shirt, a duffel bag at his feet.

“Uh, well, I’m not really sure,” I told him honestly.

Garrett unlocked the front door and pushed it open. “Well, I just got here. I just got off a two-hour flight and I hate the airport. I need to de-funk, stat. Why don’t you come in and I’ll make some coffee. You’ve got that I-haven’t-mainlined-caffeine look on your face.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, okay. Sounds good.”

Garrett dropped his bag just inside the door turned up the thermostat. “Fuck me, it’s freezing in here. Mitch has a serious aversion to turning the heat up.”

We walked into the kitchen and Garrett went straight to the coffee maker and dumped the remains of an earlier pot into the sink. It looked like Mitch had been home this morning.

But where had he gone so early?

“Milk and sugar right?” Garrett asked and I nodded, sitting down at the table.

“How’s Riley?” I asked after he handed me a mug of steaming coffee. Garrett sat down across from me, stretching out his legs.

“She’s great. She was called into to cover a story at four this morning. Some fire over at the government offices. So I just got up and headed to the airport. I waited around for a few hours before my flight. She’ll be down this weekend for the show.” Garrett smiled at the mention of his girlfriend.

“So you won’t have to wait too long to see her again,” I said, drinking my coffee. Garrett could make one hell of a cup of java, that’s for sure.

“It gets harder and harder to leave her,” he said softly. He looked up at me, his blue eyes tired but happy. “I’m moving up there. To Boston,” he announced and I blinked in shock.

“To Boston. You’re moving to Boston,” I repeated, not sure that I heard him correctly.

Garrett downed the rest of his coffee and nodded. “Yeah. I can’t be away from her anymore. I just can’t do it. And neither can she. She’s got a good gig with the paper. I would never ask her to move back here. There’s nothing for her in Bakersville as far as her career goes.”

“But the band—” I started to say.

“I don’t think that’s in the equation anymore,” he said, sounding a mixture of sad and relieved.

“What are you talking about?” I asked aghast. No Generation Rejects? I couldn’t imagine them not playing together. “I know you guys are worried about the label dropping you, but Mitch’s cousin was getting you guys some gigs right? You don’t need a label to still play music,” I argued.

Garrett got up and refilled his mug. “You know, the band has been the biggest part of my life for so damn long. After my parents died, it’s what kept me from losing my fucking mind. Mitch, Cole, and Jordan are more than my friends, they’re my brothers. We’ve traveled down this road together and it’s been amazing. It really has. But things change. Life heads off into another direction and you have to go with it. Generation Rejects will always be a part of my life. But Riley Walker is my life, G. I want to build my life with her. I want to put down roots with her.”

He stopped for a minute and then he smiled and it made my breath catch in my throat. At one time I had thought myself in love with Garrett. It was easy to see why when he looked like that. When he was talking about the woman he adored above everything else.

“I don’t want to spend all my time on the road, thinking about her. I want to wake up in the morning beside her and I want to go to bed at night holding her. That’s all I want. I’m a simple guy like that. Everything else will fall into place.” He sat back down again and I didn’t quite know what to say.

“What will the guys think?” I had to ask.

“They’ve got their own stuff going on. Jordan’s going to be a dad—”

“You know!” I gasped and Garrett chuckled.

“Riley told me.”

“You’re right, he won’t want to leave Maysie and the baby now. I guess it’s the end of an era.” I said.

Garrett tapped his fingers on the table in a slow, steady rhythm. Much like his personality. Slow and steady. Unhurried. “It’s time though. Don’t you think we’re all ready for a change?”

I thought about that and yeah, we all were ready. More than ready.

“What are you going to do with the house when you move to Boston?” I asked.

Garrett looked around the tiny, yet homey kitchen. A hundred memories had been made in this room. Thousands for him. It would be strange for this house to stand without him living in it.

“I’ll keep it of course. This was my parents’ house. I would never sell it. I guess I’ll see if Mitch wants to keep living here. If not, then maybe I’ll rent it out. I’ve got some time before I have to worry about all that.”

I felt a momentary panic. “Why wouldn’t Mitch want to live here? Is he planning to move as well?” My voice sounded a little shrill in my ears.

Garrett raised an eyebrow and regarded me levelly. “He hasn’t said, but we’re all in a state of flux right now. So we’ll see where his path takes him.” He got up and carried his coffee cup to the sink and rinsed it out. “So you want to tell my why you’re really here? I know it’s not to shoot the shit.”

“Maybe I just wanted a visit,” I replied obstinately.

“It’s okay to admit, you know,” Garrett said, turning back around and leaning against the counter, folding his arms across his lean chest.

“What’s okay?” I asked. I was being purposefully obtuse. He knew. I knew it.

“That you came over here to see Mitchie boy.”

My cheeks flushed and I had to look away from my friend. “I wasn’t really—” I prepared to lie but Garrett interrupted me before I could finish.

“Yes you are. I saw that wild look on your face when you got here. Something happened while I was in Boston.” I couldn’t deny it.

Garrett frowned, looking thoughtful. “I had hoped that you guys would work everything out. I think the two of you are making a mistake by being so pigheaded.” He ran his hand over his mouth and chuckled. “Though I know how hard it is to get someone to see what’s right in front of them. Particularly when they’re stubborn as hell.”

“I don’t think I’m being stubborn. But our lives are in different places. He’s with someone else. I realized things too late. We missed our chance. I thought we could be friends.” I sighed. It was a sad, mournful sound. “But I don’t think that’s really possible. Because with Mitch and me, there’s always something…”

“More?” Garrett filled in.

I nodded. “Yeah. Something more. I hurt him badly, Garrett. I’m sure you know what happened.”

“Mitch told me some of it. I also know he made a knee jerk reaction when he got with Sophie. He shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t right to her. To him. Or to you. A rebound is the worst thing you can do when your heart is hurting.”

“But he seems happy.” As I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. Mitch didn’t seem happy. He seemed…resigned. And that was not the same thing.

“We both know that’s bullshit.” Garrett picked up his bag. “I’ve got to go put this stuff away. You can hang out or whatever but I don’t know when Mitch will be back.”

“Okay,” I said quietly, standing up.

Garrett paused before exiting the kitchen. He turned back to me. “Don’t give up on what you guys have. Because it’s something special, G, and you both deserve that. Don’t lie to yourself by saying he’s better off without you. Because that, my friend, is a load a crap and we both know it.” With a wave, he headed up stairs and I was left alone.

I pulled out my phone and looked at the time. I needed to get to work.

I grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled a quick note on it. It was time to go old school to make my point.

I took the stairs two at a time and stopped just outside of Mitch’s bedroom door. I hesitated before opening it. It felt strange to go inside when he wasn’t there. Like I was violating his privacy.

I gripped the note in my hand and walked in anyway.

Screw privacy. There were important things at stake.

Like getting us back to where we needed to be.

The smell of him hit me as soon as I walked inside. It brought with it a thousand memories. A thousand happy days and never ending smiles. It also brought with it a lot of heartache.

The place was a mess. The bed was unmade and there were clothes on the floor. Mitch Abrams was an unabashed slob.

I snorted at the sight of his overflowing hamper and three days worth of dishes piled up on the desk in the corner. His room, like his vehicle, could be labeled a toxic dump.

Though it hadn’t bothered me too much when I used to come over. I was able to overlook his grimy tendencies so easily. That should have been an obvious sign of my feelings for him. Nothing says I love you like not bitching about dirt and clutter.

I went to leave the note on the dresser when something caught my eye.

In the middle of discarded Twizzler wrappers and piles of change was a collection of hair ties. Blue, red, pink, purple. They were twisted into a knot and placed on top of a small wooden box.

Small hair ties. Stretched out hair ties. All mine. Some of them I had left by accident. Others I had purposefully kept in his room so that I had one should I need it.

And they were still there. A year since the last time I had entered his room.

I picked up the bundle of hair ties, gripping them in my hand. I rested my hand on the lid of the box debating whether to open it.

Don’t, Gracie. You’ve already rudely entered his room without being invited, don’t make it worse.

They say curiosity killed the cat. My curiosity almost broke my heart.

I opened the box with shaking hands and reached inside. My fingers closed around a stack of photographs, which I promptly lifted out.

I shouldn’t be looking at these. I need to put them back, leave the note, and get the hell out of his room. It wasn’t right to snoop around like this.

Whatever. Of course I was going to look. Who wouldn’t?

So I started going through them. One at a time.

I didn’t realize that I was crying until tears fell on the glossy prints.

They were photographs of me. Each and every one of them.

Some were of Mitch and me together. Others were of me with our friends. Some, I was by myself. They were candid and honest. They captured a Gracie that was natural and uninhibited. I hadn’t even known I was being photographed.

Some people would have been weirded out by that. I wasn’t. Not at all. These pictures revealed a woman I had almost forgotten about.

A woman that was happy.

Wiping away tears, I started to put them back when something caught my eye. It was a picture towards the back that I had almost overlooked. The longer I stared at it, the harder my tears fell.

In the photo, Mitch and I were standing by a raging bonfire behind Garrett’s house. I didn’t know who had taken it, but whoever it was had captured something honest. Something completely real.

Mitch had his arm slung around my shoulders. I was looking up at him, my eyes intense and hungry. We were both smiling. Only inches apart. Mitch’s hand was frozen just as he was about to touch my face.

It was a beautiful picture. The fire and the smoke created an artistic haze over our figures.

But that wasn’t what left me reeling.

It was the look on our faces.

We looked in love.

No one could see it and think anything else.

I flipped it over and saw a date in Mitch’s chicken scratch handwriting.

July 4th, 2013.

2013.

The photograph was from two years ago.

Two years.

Even then my heart had known that I loved him. My brain may have been in denial, but I knew.

I clutched the photograph to my chest and felt almost sick about all the lost time. The missed chances.

I had been such a fool.

Carefully I put the pictures back, closed the lid, and replaced the hair ties. My hair ties. The ones Mitch kept.

With trembling fingers I left the note for him propped against the box and wiped the lingering tears from my face.

It was time to leave.

I shut the door on our memories, hoping that we weren’t too late to make new ones.