I had loved that one too. But that was the soundtrack that had been playing in my car the night that Serena died. I hadn’t played it or listened to it since.
I’d never told Sean that.
It was amazing how things that you loved could become things that you hated.
♪♫♪
Sean was off the pain meds. I patted myself on the back for that one. I had been vigilant and made quite a nuisance of myself, but it had been worth it. Sean had even let me get rid of the extra pills.
It had been a full month since the accident. Two weeks with his hand immobilized, and then he’d started physical therapy a week after that. He hadn’t taken many pain killers after the first week, but once he started the therapy, his doctor told him to take some so that he’d be willing to really move it.
So I held my breath, hoping his body wouldn’t latch on to it.
Giovanni, the physical therapist, would come to the house each day while I was at work, so I was able to skip any drama that resulted from the “torture” (Sean’s word, not mine). A week into therapy, he was pill-free and tolerated Giovanni without complaint.
And finally, I could breathe again. With the pills out of the house, I was no longer in a constant state of DEFCON 1 status. Or was it DEFCON 5? Whichever one was the worst, that’s where I’d been the past month.
Once I felt the immediate threat had passed, I pulled away, disconnecting almost completely from Sean. I had to. As soon as I knew that he was off the meds and back to some sort of work schedule, I was gone. There were things I had to do, a life to be lived, and most of it did not involve Sean.
I went out with Tara and Felicity, celebrating the fact that my “dad” had recovered and no longer needed my help. I was such a liar. But they hugged me and took me out to dinner.
“This band is awesome!” I exclaimed as we sat out on the patio of a downtown restaurant.
Tara looked at me like I was a little crazy. “You usually have better taste in music than that.”
“Yeah,” Felicity agreed. “Are you feeling okay? You’re not usually this complimentary.”
“Are you saying I’m a music snob?”
“No,” she laughed. “You’re just not this enthusiastic most of the time.”
I shrugged. “I guess I’m feeling extra good tonight.” I got to my feet, pulling them both up and forcing them to dance with me even though no one else was.
I let myself sink fully into the joy of normalcy, allowing the weight that had been strangling me for the past several weeks to slip from my shoulders.
♪♫♪
Two days later, I sat with my phone in my hands, nervously drumming my thumbs against the blank screen. I wanted to text Jonas, but I knew that a simple Hey, how ya doin’? wasn’t going to cut it. Plus, he might not want to hear from me.
Me: I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately.
Jonas: Wow. I didn’t expect to hear from you.
Me: I know it’s been a long time.
Jonas: You blew me off. A month ago.
So, no instant forgiveness this time. That was okay. I deserved that. And he deserved to know how sorry I was.
Me: You’re right. I did. It was really rude and I’m sorry. I understand if you don’t want to get together again. No matter what was happening in my life, you didn’t deserve that. So I just wanted to apologize.
I wanted to do more than apologize, but that was the most important thing, so I left it at that.
Jonas: What do you want from me, Libby?
Me: You were a really good friend to me when I needed it. You were a gentleman and I’m sad that my life got in the way of us getting to know each other better. I take responsibility for that. So, I guess I just want you to know that, and to know that if you’re willing to give me a second chance, I’d take it in a heartbeat. But I completely understand if you can’t.
My hands shook when I pressed send on that text.
Jonas: I kissed you. And then you had an emergency. And then you wouldn’t answer my calls.
Me: I know. I’m sorry.
Jonas: That doesn’t make it better.
Me: I know. That’s why I’ve been having such a hard time working