Page 21 of You Met Me There

My eyes prick with unshed tears, and my cheeks heat from the alcohol. Of course I still love him—more than anything in the world. Being away from him is like the ocean no longer feeling the pull of the moon. I am the shape of myself left empty and dry—no longer whole.

Me: I do. As much as I did when I first said those two words at the altar. But I’m broken, Luke, and I don’t know how to see past the cracks I’ve made in myself.

The three little dots appear and disappear, a sign that he’s probably not sure how to respond. I shouldn’t have sent that text. I shouldn’t have said so much and given him any amount of hope when I don’t even know what I want.

I don’t have a grain of hope to give.

His text appears and I wipe at my damp eyes, my heart racing as I read his reply.

Luke: You’re not broken. And what we have isn’t either. I love you, Natalie Brielle Hamilton, and I’m not giving up on us. You’re passionate, extraordinary, gorgeous. You’re all I want. All I’ve ever wanted. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you. I’m going to remind you of what we used to be.

I can’t help it; I smile through my blurry vision. I smile and sob and eventually fall asleep staring at Luke’s contact photo lit up on my screen after sending one last text.

Me: I never forgot. But I just don’t know what else to do.

My sandals scrape against the walking path, much like they did yesterday, feeling heavier than any thin plastic sandal has any right to feel. The day is hot, the sun much warmer in the clear blue sky than yesterday. My hands drip with condensation that gathers around the two iced coffees in my hands.

I parked at Le Fou this morning, sat in my car for thirty minutes building my mental walls and an imaginary emotional care package for when this goes terribly wrong, then bought two coffees before my walk over here.

Thankfully, Ali wasn’t at work, so I didn’t have to endure the questioning stares she gave me yesterday. But now I’m sweating over the little things, like if Jules will love or hate the latte I got her. I know it’s a minor detail compared to seeing her again, but at least it’s keeping my mind mildly distracted as I walk from the café to her house.

Now that I know which one it is, I take in the details with more intention. There’s a stone chimney running up one side of the blue house, meeting a dark slated roof. The large white deck reaches out into the yard, and I imagine it’s the perfect amount of space for Jules’s family to barbecue while gathering together on warm summer evenings. The yard is large, with no fence, and there’s a tire swing hanging from the outstretched branch of a maple tree. Children’s toys lie in the grass. Off to the side of the house is a pile of cut logs, most likely for their indoor fireplace or maybe even a campfire.

As my steps take me from the path to the yard, I take a deep breath in, count to five, and release it through my mouth, letting the habit and the motions calm my nerves. Standing here with the lake behind me, I face the back of the house and wonder if I should walk around to the front door.

It would be weird for someone to come knocking on the back door, right? Probably.

I step around the house through the neatly cut grass and find a manicured garden lining a front walkway. Two stone steps lead to the front door, and without giving myself even so little as a millisecond to back down, I march up the steps and extend a dripping cup of iced coffee, pressing the back of my finger against the doorbell. The tone of the bell chimes through the door, and I back away from the steps when I hear footsteps approaching.

The door opens slowly, and then she’s there: my sister, brown eyes wide, mouth drifting open. My pulse thrums in my ears, but I fight the urge to move. My brain simultaneously tells me to both give her a hug and run away. My body is a statue. A blonde statue with a bob, who wears diamond earrings and carries a cross-body Gucci bag.

Jules pulls the door wider, stepping out into the sunshine, and her deep brown eyes take me in, roaming over my face like she’s deciding if I’m real or a mirage. A trick of the eye, like a ghost come to haunt her.

“Natalie?” she breathes, each syllable hesitant like she’s forgotten how my name should sound on her tongue. The fact that I haven’t heard her voice say my name in nine years sends a pang of sadness through me.

“Hi, Jules. I brought you coffee.”

Chapter 12

Natalie

Igive her a nervous smile, but my lips pull up weakly on only one side. Her eyes dip to the cups in my hands.

“I, uh … I didn’t know what flavor you liked.” I feign confidence. “Or if you drink it hot or iced, but I—oof.” Juliet barrels into me, making the ice in the cups rattle.

Her arms reach around my shoulders, and she pulls me into a hug. I’m shocked. My eyes, wide with surprise, brim with tears that pool on my lashes. The condensation from the cups continues to drip from my hands, but I bring my arms around my older sister, holding the cold liquid away from her body as best I can while soaking in her warmth.

Jules is the same size as I remember her, but between my arms she doesn’t feel the same as she once did. She’s broader in the shoulders, her hips a little wider. Her hair smells like vanilla, and the light jeans and white V-neck T-shirt she’s wearing accentuate her curves. Her body doesn’t feel like the sister I hugged years ago, but the warmth from her embrace sends me back to those tender sisterly moments we once shared.

“Are you really here?” she murmurs against my hair.

I nod, pressing my lips together. “It’s me. I’m here.” The words hardly make it out before Jules steps back, holding me in place to look at me.

Her long wavy brown hair is held back from the sides of her face by a large clip. I silently let her scan my face, my hair, my body, like she’s looking for signs of harm.

“I’m okay,” I say after a few seconds, “if that’s what you’re wondering.” I chuckle nervously.

Her brows pull together and she chews on her bottom lip, indicating that she’s struggling to process the current situation. She always did that as a kid, biting her lip when she was worried or simply immersed in her thoughts.