Keeping Secrets in Seattle - By Brooke Moss Page 0,90

excitement in my voice.

I practically heard Nora grin. “I think he’d really like that. He’s been missing you this week, you know.”

“I know.” My voice shook as I stood and headed straight for the café door. “I needed to work through some things.”

“So did he, dear.”

“Thanks for everything,” I said, walking as fast as I could down the crowded sidewalk. “And Nora?”

“Yes?”

I bit my lip. “I love you.”

She sighed happily. “I love you, too, Violet.”

As soon as I hung up, my phone vibrated, notifying me of an incoming e-mail. I gasped when I saw that it was from Gabe, and a woman passing me with her groceries turned and stared.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, my pace slowing considerably as I opened the e-mail.

Vi,

I know that you don’t want to hear from me, and that you’ve decided that you’re better off without me. And I promise to respect that. But since you won’t let me have my say, I decided to get everything off my chest now. So that you can know what’s in my heart, and what I’ve been trying to tell you all week, before you move to Portland.

I remember the first time I ever saw you. It was during recess in kindergarten, and a kid knocked you down in the playground. When he ran past you a few minutes later, you clotheslined him right there on the blacktop. I knew then that I would love you for the rest of my life. You’re strong. So strong. And it wasn’t until recently that I realized just how incredible you really are.

I’ll never be able to take back the fact that you were hurt by Cameron while I played Mr. Popularity. And I’ll never be able to take back the fact that I didn’t fight for you during those weeks after it happened. But I can fight for you from now on. Because you’re the only woman who has ever really, truly mattered. Even if you never want to see me again, I’ll never give up. I’m so sorry I shut you out. You were right. We should have become closer through this instead of pushing each other away.

Violet Anne Murphy, I love you with everything I am, and everything I will be. You have all of my love, and you will for the rest of my life. You’re worth fighting for, Vi. You always have been.

With all of me,

G.

My eyes were blurry with tears as I scrambled to find my BlackBerry and dial Gabe’s number again. I couldn’t stand it. I needed to see him…I needed to hold him, and to tell him that I would never give up on him again.

“Hi, this is Gabe Parker. Not around right now. You know what to do.”

I hung up and jogged the rest of the way home. As I bound up the stairs and fumbled with the lock, I could smell homemade spaghetti sauce cooking, and heard Kim and Betsy belting out Queen inside. When it finally flew open, it smacked the wall; I practically fell into the apartment.

“Whoa,” Kim said, looking up from the giant pot of sauce she was stirring. “Where’s the fire?”

“We cooked spaghetti for your birthday dinner.” Betsy held up a DVD. “And we rented a movie. No sulking alone for you tonight.”

Kim laughed. “That’s right. We’re sulking with you.”

I dropped my purse on the floor, crossed through the living room into the kitchen, and pulled both of them into a tight hug.

“I…ugh…” Kim grunted as I smashed her face into my shoulder.

“Wow. Okay.” Betsy patted my back. “I’ll rent movies more often.”

When I leaned back, I beamed at them both. “You guys are seriously the most amazing friends I could have ever asked for.”

Kim narrowed her eyes. “Are you drunk?”

Shaking my head, I threw my head back and laughed.

“She’s hammered. She went out drinking alone.” Betsy tsked at me. “That’s the first sign of a problem, Violet.”

Kim frowned. “The problem is that she didn’t call and invite us to join her.”

“I haven’t been drinking.” I released them and started rubbing my palms together. “I’m just thinking clearly for the first time in weeks.”

“What gives?” Kim asked.

“I need to go somewhere tonight,” I announced. “And I need help from both of you to pull it off.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Once Kim and Betsy were given their tasks, they put their game faces on and spent the next two hours curling, coiffing, and plucking me to sheer perfection.

Betsy loaned me a gown from a secondhand couture boutique in Ballard that fit my curves