Page 110 of Under the Weatherman
“Have you tried forgiveness?”
Chelsea’s laugh sounded so bitter. “My parents have never expressed remorse.”
“I wasn’t talking about them. It’s time you stopped beating yourself up. You’re worthy of love, too.”
I slipped out onto the porch and quietly pulled the door closed, Elizabeth’s last words hitting me like a derecho, just blowing straight through all my core beliefs and making me realize all this time, I’d been looking for apologies from others, but I’d never asked if I deserved forgiveness myself. I could never believe I was worthy of Elizabeth or anyone, so I kept looking for proof her interest in me had all been a lie. Because who could love me?
I walked toward Elizabeth’s house, thinking she’d come back home eventually, but when I dropped onto her porch to wait, my phone lit up.
Kyan started speaking as soon as I connected. “Hey, you’ll never guess who’s here.”
I took a shot anyway. “Aidan?”
“Nope.” He chuckled, and I could hear murmuring sounds and other noises in the background. “She walked right into the bar, and I thought she looked familiar.”
“Who? And why are you at work?”
“This stupid restaurant prides itself on being the only place open on Thanksgiving. We get all the lonely hearts with nobody to love.” A beat. “No, I wasn’t talking about you,” he said, a little muffled.
“I’m hanging up, Kyan.” I hated games like this. “Just tell me.”
“Spoil sport.”
“Kyan.”
“Okay! Lizzy Grant stopped in for a drink.”
“Lizzy’s there?”
“Yup. I told her you’d been trying to reach her, and she said, ‘Yeah, what’s up with that?’ so I kind of filled her in.”
I groaned. “Well, that’s great. Tell her I said hi.”
“No, but that’s why I’m calling. You can come say hello yourself. She’s got about an hour before her family starts to notice she’s missing, but she’d like to see you. Can you swing by?”
I stared at my shoes. About a month ago, I would have loved an opportunity to talk to her, but after seeing Vicky, then losing my shit, then watching Chelsea burn down everything Bas had tried to build with her, I was so emotionally raw, I didn’t think it would be a great idea.
But then Kyan said, “She wants to apologize.”
I sat up straight. “What do you mean?”
“I dunno. You’ll have to come find out for yourself.”
Shit. “Okay. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
I typed out a quick text to Elizabeth to let her know I was going downtown and started the trek back toward where this had all started.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Elizabeth
“There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”
Hamlet
I stood on the porch, hugging my arms around my chest, trying to pull myself together before walking back home. I’d given Chelsea orders to call her therapist because the one thing I’d learned over the years was that I couldn’t be a one-man rescue operation for her. She needed professional help, real advice. I loved her, and she knew I’d come rushing back if she needed me, but we’d just end up drunk and crying all night if I stayed.
I hated what her parents had done to her. I wanted to beg her to cut them both out completely. She’d long ago drop-kicked her dad, but now she was coming to terms with her selfish mom, and it was breaking her heart.
