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Piper blows out a breath and stands, stretching her arms out in front of her. “I think I’ve had enough for one day.”
Finley nods. “We made good progress. I’ll text Archer to come up and help with hauling some of this stuff out. Taylor, will you run to the office and grab my iPad? I need to take some photos and make a list of the donations for the accountant. It’s in the drawer in my desk.”
“Sure.” Taylor stalks out of the room, probably grateful to get away from me after being in such a confined space for so long and not literally exploding.
Finley winks at me, and after a few seconds I follow Taylor.
Downstairs, I take a deep breath before stepping into the office.
Taylor is standing at the desk off to the right, digging through the drawers.
I clear my throat. “Can we talk for a minute?”
She freezes, her movements coming to a screeching halt, gaze flicking up to me. Then she stands up straight, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes frosty. “About what?”
I move closer, holding on to the back of one of the cushioned guest chairs facing the desk. “I want to apologize.”
She stares at me and then bursts out laughing. “Is this a joke? This is a joke, right, some kind of weird thing where you act like you’re sorry for treating me like garbage for eight years and then take it all back to make me feel even crappier?”
I wince. “No, I’m being serious. I’ve had some realizations recently, and I know I have issues I need to work through regarding Aria’s death. I have my own guilt, you see, and I’ve been projecting that anger onto you when really, I’ve been angry at myself, but I couldn’t . . . I just didn’t see it. Until now.”
Man, that was lame.
Her lips thin, her head shaking back and forth slowly. “No. No, you don’t get to do this.”
I blink rapidly. “Do what?”
She raises her hands. “Act like you’re the good guy here.”
“I know I’m not. That’s what I’m trying to say. I’m the bad guy. It was easier to blame you than it was to accept my own culpability. I know that now, and I want to make it right.”
“What the—?” She cuts off, shutting her eyes for a second and taking a deep breath before opening them again. “You’re trying to tell me that you put me through hell for years and it wasn’t even about me?”
“It wasn’t. And I wasn’t fair to you, and I am truly sorry. I’m going to be better, I promise. I won’t make snide comments anymore about . . . anything.”
She presses her lips together. “Well, that’s great for you, but I don’t forgive you.”
I swallow. I knew it would go this way, but even anticipating her reaction doesn’t stop the throb of hurt and dismay. “I understand.”
I’m not going to give up. I can’t control Taylor’s lingering feelings of resentment and anger, but I can work on myself and be better.
I leave the office, knowing I’ve done all I could for now and hoping that maybe someday, maybe even someday soon, Taylor will find it in her heart to forgive me and things will get better between us.
Even though nothing has been resolved, it’s still like a heavy weight that’s been pressing on my chest is suddenly thrust away, like my animosity toward Taylor was a boulder tethered to my body.
It’s not perfect, but at least it’s progress.
ChapterTwenty-Eight
Luke
I’m sitting on the couch with my notebook, playing with lyrics for a new song that started poking at me this morning, when the front door opens and slams shut.
“Luke?”
As if it’s controlled by a motor directly attached to her voice, my heart thumps harder.
“In here.”
