years, I want him to take it back. I want to go back to yesterday, when it was easier. When he could bring Elijah over without all the awkwardness that will be between us from now on.
I feel like he said all that hoping it would solve something, but for me, it only created an even larger wedge. And I don’t know that it’ll ever get better.
We were teenagers. We weren’t in love. What we experienced was attraction, and attraction is confusing, but it’s also not worth uprooting Clara’s life over.
I glance up when I see headlights turning in my direction.
Clara.
She parks the car, and when she gets out, she doesn’t immediately say anything to me. I’m not even sure she notices me until she pivots at the sidewalk and comes to sit next to me on the grass. She pulls her knees up to her chin and hugs them as she stares out into the dark street. “I’m worried about you, Mom.”
“Why?”
“It’s late. And you’re sitting alone in the dark in the front yard. Crying.”
I reach a hand up to my cheek and wipe away tears I hadn’t even acknowledged yet. I blow out a breath and look at her. “I’m sorry about today. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Clara just nods. I’m not sure if she’s accepting my apology or agreeing that I shouldn’t have said what I said.
“Were you with Miller tonight?”
“Yes.”
I sigh. At least she was honest with me.
“He’s not a bad person, Mom. I promise. If you’d just get to know him.”
She’s defending him, but I get it. When you’re sixteen, you ignore all the warning signs. I blow out a breath. “Just be careful, Clara. I don’t want you making the same mistake I did.”
Clara stands up and wipes the back of her jeans. “I’m not you, Mom. Miller isn’t Dad. And I really wish you’d stop referring to me as a mistake.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
I have no idea if she heard that, because she’s already walking into the house. She slams the door behind her.
I’m too exhausted to run after her. I lower my back to the grass and stare up at the stars. What little I can see of them, anyway.
I wonder if Chris and Jenny are up there somewhere. I wonder if they can see me down here. I wonder if they feel bad for what they turned my life into.
“You suck,” I whisper to Chris. “I hope you can see us right now, because you’ve ruined a lot of lives, you fucking prick.”
I hear footsteps in the grass and sit straight up, startled. I clasp my hand around my throat and release a breath at the sight of Mrs. Nettle standing a few feet away.
“I thought you were dead,” she says. “But then I heard you call the Lord a prick.” She turns around to head back toward her house. When she reaches her front door, she waves her cane toward me. “That’s blasphemy, you know! You should probably start going to church!”
Once she’s inside her house, I can’t help but laugh. She really hates me.
I push off the grass and go inside. When I get to my bedroom, I look at the letters and cards spread out over my bed. My hands shake as I count them. There are nine total letters and three cards.
I want to know what they say, but I don’t. I’m confident they’ll only upset me more, and I’ve had enough for one day.
I stick them in the bottom of my dresser and decide to save them for a better day.
If that ever comes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CLARA
It was a long weekend. Lexie and Miller both worked late shifts. Other than sitting with Miller during his break Saturday night and spending two hours on the phone with him last night, I haven’t seen him. I haven’t seen much of my mother either. After Friday night’s weirdness, she spent all day Saturday on the computer applying for jobs. I spent most of Sunday in my room catching up on homework.
I’m later than usual when I get to Jonah’s class. I’m the last one to arrive before the bell rings, so I’m surprised when Jonah approaches my desk and kneels in front of it. He usually doesn’t pay me individual attention in front of other students.
“How’s your mother?”
I shrug. “Good, I guess. Why?”
“She didn’t return my texts this weekend. I just wanted to make sure she was okay.”
I lean forward, not wanting anyone else to hear what I’m