Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“When is the wedding?”
“Tomorrow. About twenty minutes from here.”
“Wow.” She shook her head and chuckled. “I give you credit for showing up.”
“I have to. For him. I promised to always be there for him.” I lifted my hands. “And so, here I am.”
“Please tell me you have a killer dress.”
I managed to laugh. “Oh, you know it.”
“What are you hoping for next…after this weekend?”
I blew out a breath. “I’m hoping I can finally move on, that tomorrow will wake me up to the fact that Archie and I are over. I almost need to see this wedding happen to believe it.”
Veronique sighed. “I hope you don’t mind me saying… This is like a real-life soap opera.”
I chuckled. “Well, glad I could take your mind off things for a bit.”
“You did. I can’t thank you enough for sharing your story with me.” She leaned in. “Listen, I’m feeling a bit tired, so I’m going to head up to my room. But if you have any time before you go back to New York, I’d love to have breakfast or something before you leave. I’ll be here until Monday. I don’t think I can go home without hearing about this wedding.”
The idea of getting to see her again made me happy. “We can absolutely do brunch on Sunday morning. That would be amazing. I feel like meeting you tonight was a gift, Veronique. Telling the story really helped clear my mind.”
“The pleasure was all mine.” She patted my arm. “Take care of your heart tomorrow.”
• • •
Shortly after Veronique went to her room, I headed back to mine to have a pity party for one. Aside from that lovely stranger in the bar, there was no one else I’d felt comfortable sharing these feelings with. I wished I could talk to Archie tonight. But since that wouldn’t be appropriate, I pulled up some of our old emails. I’d favorited certain ones over the years so I could find them easily.
Noelle,
This is a bad dream I can’t wake up from. It’s been three weeks, but it feels like three years. My mother’s mental state is not good. There’s so much paperwork and shit we have to figure out. My dad didn’t have as much money saved as we thought. Anyway, I don’t want to burden you with all that shit.
I want you to know how much it meant to me that you came out to California and missed the start of school to be here. I hope you have a kickass year—don’t let the nightmarish way this summer ended put a damper on that. I also hope you don’t mind if I write to you from time to time. I feel like you’re the only one who understands what I’ve been through. It’s just too much to open up to anyone else right now and have to rehash it. I hope I’m not depressing you. Because that would suck.
Enough about me. What’s going on with you? Tell me all about BU.
xo
Archie
I scrolled down to my reply.
Archie,
Please don’t ever feel like you have to hold back with me. I can’t be there for you in person, so it makes me really glad to know you feel like you can count on me for venting.
It all seems surreal to me, too. I have to be honest, I’ve had a tough time focusing since school started. I’ve been thinking about you a lot, thinking back to the good parts of the summer. My heart is still on Whaite’s Island. Actually, that’s a lie. My heart is with you. I’m sure things will get easier once some time passes.
BU is okay so far. There’s not really much of a campus. It’s basically like living in the city. So not a lot different than home. But I don’t mind that. I’m a city girl at heart.
Write back soon, Archie. Anytime you need me. Day or night. Okay?
xo
Noelle
The next email I’d saved was from about a year after his dad died.
Hi Noelle,
I wanted to let you know that I’m not going back to Ford to finish my last year. I’m transferring to a state school closer to home in Irvine, and I’ll be starting in the spring. I’ll be commuting. It’s for the best. I can’t leave Mom. Her memory is getting worse by the day. She needs me here, even if she’d be the last to say so. It is what it is. I know I’d regret it forever if I left her.
I’ve started seeing a therapist. It’s been a long time coming. Ironically, I could’ve never done it when my dad was alive because if he’d found out, he would’ve accused me of being weak. Oh the irony… Now I have to see a shrink because of him. Not just because of his death, but because of the fucked-up feelings of relief and freedom I sometimes feel now. I loved him, but it wasn’t simple. I don’t think I could ever admit this to anyone but you. I know you understand what I mean and won’t judge me.