Page 47 of This Time Around

“Tomorrow? Are you crazy? That’s an entire day away.”

Luke and I got everything packed up pretty quickly and when we got home, he told me to head over to April’s and he’d unpack his car and put everything away.

That was about an hour ago. I stopped at the coffee shop around the corner from April’s getting a peace offering and have now been standing at her door for about 15 minutes, trying to build up the courage to knock.

Taking one last soothing breath, I lift my hand and knock it softly on the door.

A few seconds later, the door opens and April is standing on the other side, staring at me without a word.

“I brought coffee,” I offer, holding up her cup. The smell of cinnamon rolls fills the doorway. April runs her own bakery a few blocks from here, but it’s closed on Sunday mornings. She rarely bakes at home, but I can tell by the look on her face these are rage baking cinnamon rolls right now. Baking calms her down.

Fuck.

She still doesn’t respond. She just moves to the side and gestures for me to come inside.

“April, I-” She puts her hand up.

“I need food and coffee before I can have this conversation,” she states. Taking two cinnamon rolls off the tray and handing one to me. “You smell like a brewery. How much did you drink?”

“A lot,” I respond, taking a bite.

She says nothing in return, and neither do I. We just sit here in silence until our cinnamon rolls are gone and we have both drank the coffee filling our cups.

When I build up the courage, I start. “April, I reread my text this morning. I’m sorry. I know what I said came out wrong.”

“Yeah. It did.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I was drunk and upset. Yesterday, I was at Lily’s and I left before you saw me. Last night, I got drunk and unloaded on Luke about seeing you. It made me nervous to see you, so I just left. I thought you’d be mad I was getting something, knowing it was for Luke-” She cuts me off for the second time.

“This,” she slaps her hand on the counter. “This is the problem, B. This is exactly what I was worried about. You are not in a place to be the woman he needs you to be. He is coming off of a divorce and needs stability-”

Now I cut her off. “This is the second fucking time you have said that to me. What the fuck do you mean by that?”

“If you would let me finish, I would tell you.” She takes a breath. “He needs someone who is emotionally in a good place, who is void of drama and confusion. You need that too, but neither one of you is there. If you were, you would have never dodged me. You would have come up to me like an adult and said hi to your best friend. Regardless of what you thought I’d think. You’d prove to me you were in a loving, comfortable relationship.”

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“That, B, does make me uncomfortable. You’re so unsure of your relationship you can’t face me head on. When you saw me in public, you avoided me. You hide your relationship from me when we are together, even though I know it’s happening. You never talk to me about it. The day we set up the bar, you acted like you didn’t even know him. You refuse to let me see you two together, so I can see how happy you are, and how real it is. You shield me, so what I’ve been afraid of is already happening. I’ve lost you. I’m not your best friend. You treat me as if I’m just Luke’s sister.” She takes a long breath and I don’t know what to say to fill the uncomfortable void between us.

She takes a few sips of her coffee and continues to avoid making eye contact with me. “You are both still figuring things out and I worry at the first sign of tension in your relationship you won’t make it, and I will lose you. He’s my brother, B. I have to pick him.”

“So you’re already counting your losses before we’ve even really started?” I ask with hurt and insecurity lacing my words, a feeling I am becoming all too familiar with and I hate it. “You think I’m not enough for him? We’re just doomed from the start?”

“That is not what I said,” she responds quickly.

“No, but it’s what you meant.” I stand and grab my things and walk out the door. She is right, and leaving is easier than facing the truth. She doesn’t follow me, she doesn’t even try to stop me.

And I don’t blame her.

Luke

Igot all the food and camping stuff unpacked and put away. I decided Blake could probably use a relaxing day when she gets back, so I ordered pizza and rented a movie. She texted me about 20 minutes ago saying she was on her way home. Just as I reach for my phone to see the time, she opens the front door. Tears are streaming down her face in a silent cry, her eyes red and swollen. Small red splotches cover her face and neck, and she looks painstakingly defeated.

Fucking hell.

“Baby, what happened?” I ask, walking over to her and wrapping her in a hug.

“She said I treat her like your sister instead of my best friend, and she has already lost me.” Her words break into a soft sob. “And she’s right, I do. I don’t think she believes we will make it, or that I’m worthy of your love.”