Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
CHAPTER 28
* * *
CARLY
I ALWAYS CARRIED the last note Josh left me. From time to time, I’d reach into my purse and look at it again.
A Thank You from The Trappist Monks of St. Francis:
Thank you for the best three months of my life.
P.S. I’ll probably regret not giving in one last time for as long as I live.
Josh had stuck that piece of paper in my bag sometime before we’d left Woodsboro a month ago. But I hadn’t found it until I’d gotten back to California and unpacked my bags.
I’d just finished my last makeup client of the day and was about to head home when I grabbed my phone, scrolled down to his name, and typed: I miss you.
But instead of sending, I immediately erased it. I’d typed those three words too many times to count recently. And not once had I had the courage to send the message to him. Because what was the point of saying it? It wouldn’t change anything.
Four weeks had passed since I’d returned to California. Getting back into the groove hadn’t been easy. My apartment felt cold and sterile. Even though I was lucky enough to have had a few makeup jobs lined up when I returned, I wished work was more of a distraction. There was simply way too much time to think while applying foundation and lining eyes because I knew how to apply makeup in my sleep. My thoughts constantly drifted to Josh—wondering what he was doing, whether he’d gone on any dates yet. I’d daydream about the house in Woodsboro, imagining sitting by the pellet stove next to Josh and Scottie, just hanging out. And I’d especially get lost replaying our sexual encounters.
I didn’t know what was worse, the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about Josh, or the fact that it used to be Brad my mind would wander to. My obsession with Josh had taken some of the attention away from the sadness of losing Brad. Not sure if that was a blessing or a sin.
Once I arrived home from work, I was preparing to make myself some dinner when a text came in.
Josh: Is it even possible to see one of these ever again and not think of your lemon pits?
It was followed by a photo of him at the supermarket in Chicago, holding up a lemon. Just the sight of his big hand holding the lemon gave me shivers. I stared at his calloused thumb. My body missed him in the worst way. I missed him in the worst way. What were we now? Friends?
Another message came through.
Josh: Okay, maybe I think of you even when I’m not staring at lemons. I hope you’re having a good day. xo
Once again, I typed out: I miss you. Then I erased it, instead typing out a less-emotional response.
Carly: I am. Long day at work but happy it’s over.
I wanted to tell him so much more—that the feelings of loneliness and depression had come back in full force when I returned to California. That the last time I was happy, I was with him.
Josh: I’m sorry you had a long day.
About an hour later, a delivery man knocked on my apartment door. I knew I hadn’t ordered anything, but he insisted it was the right address. When I opened the bag, there was a carton of pistachio ice cream inside. There was no note, but it wasn’t necessary.
***
The following day, the bright California sun streamed through my apartment window. The small palm tree outside blew gently in the breeze.
“Oh my heart. That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” Christina sighed.
I’d just finished telling her how Josh had purchased the Longos’ home. She and I hadn’t had a chance to catch up since I’d returned to L.A. because she’d been visiting her grandmother in Portugal. But she’d finally stopped by my apartment for tea today to catch up.
“How is Scottie adjusting to his new place?”
“Lorraine says he seems okay when she’s popped in there to drop off his food. I need to visit him eventually. I promised I would. I don’t even care whether he understood me. I just need to see him again for myself, to know he’s doing okay. So I’m thinking maybe next Christmas.”
“You need to see Scottie…not Josh?” She looked at me skeptically.
I stared down into my teacup. “I want to see him again, too. I just have a hard time picturing what that would be like in a year’s time.”
She crossed her legs as she made herself comfortable on my couch. “You think it will be awkward—like, if one of you has moved on?”
“Right. Like, I wouldn’t want to stay at the house with him if he were with someone.”
She chuckled. “I could see how that might suck.”
“That would probably be what I deserve, though.”