“Aw, but he doesn’t sound like a perv.” She grins at me. “There’s no harm in sending an email to thank him.”
“Are you seriously trying to set me up with some random guy?”
“Why not? It might be fun. It’ll take your mind off of things, at least.”
By “things,” of course, she means Calder. But I’m not ready to be thinking about other guys.
There’s been no word from him. I know I have no right to expect any contact, not after how things ended. We broke up, after all, and everyone knows that the best way to handle a split is with a clean break—no calls, no emails, no check-ins of any kind. It’s the right thing for both of us, if we’re each going to move on. Besides, he’s probably extremely busy getting settled in his new apartment and new position.
Morgan seems to read my mind.
“I don’t care how things ended between you two,” she says matter-of-factly. “He should have sent something. It’s his fault you ended up like this in the first place.”
“He didn’t push me down the stairs.”
“He might as well have. He’s the reason all those reporters have been hounding you. And don’t defend him! You’ll feel a lot better if you bash him a little.”
I give a small smile at Morgan’s logic, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.
“There’s nothing to bash,” I tell her, readjusting my sling. “I’d rather m">’m saved from hav“Not allowed. And if you refuse to do it, then I will. He should never have left you. He should be here, fighting off all those reporters who’ve been harassing you. At the very least, he should have sent some acknowledgment of what happened. Geez, Lily, you were in the hospital!”
“Look, I understand what you’re doing, but can we talk about something else? How are your classes going?”
Morgan raises her eyebrow. “All right, I get it. This doesn’t mean he’s off the hook, though.”
She’s right, of course, but I can’t bring myself to blame him for anything. I’m doing my best to forget Calder, but that’s difficult when I’m stuck at home all day with nothing to do.
A week passes, and my dad still won’t let me go back to work. I try hijacking the laptop he keeps at home, but he refuses to give me his password. One day I actually drive over to the Center, but Dad marches me right back out. After that my keys mysteriously disappear. I can’t decide whether Dad or Morgan took them, but neither will even fess up, let alone return them to me. I try to read the books Morgan brings me, but my mind keeps wandering. Instead, I start taking long walks around my Dad’s neighborhood. I need to keep myself busy or I’ll go completely crazy. Sometimes the exercise seems to clear my head. Other times I find my thoughts drifting back to Calder, and it takes all of my strength to keep from pulling my cell phone out of my pocket and calling him. I refuse to be one of those girls. I end up deleting his number from my phone so I’m not even tempted.
By the second week, most of the reporters have backed off. Partially, I’m sure, because of the charges we’re bringing against the man who pushed me, but mostly because my role in this entire situation is old news by now. That’s how these things work: you just have to ride out the storm and trust that some newer, shinier scandal will rear its ugly head eventually. Calder’s in another state, our relationship is over, and no one’s found any proof that there was anything shady about our brief affair. The gossip sites and magazines have moved on.
The Center still has money coming in, but the flow has slowed down. And I still receive the occasional gift. On this particular day, Morgan brings me a bouquet of gorgeous milk-white calla lilies.
My breath catches in my throat. They remind me of the flowers Calder got me on my first date. I quickly look down at the bag of chips in my hand so that Morgan doesn’t notice my emotional reaction to a bunch of stupid flowers.
“Perv or not?” Morgan asks as she sets the vase on the counter. to let me goit10
I shove a handful of chips into my mouth, buying myself a little time.
Pull yourself together. It’s just some flowers.
I force myself to take another look at the bouquet.
“I’m thinking they’re a sympathy gift,” Morgan chirps. “They’re too elegant for a perv.”
“No,” I say softly. “I think they’re something more.”
“You think Sam from Barberville has decided to bump things up a notch?” she teases.
“I hope not. The last thing I need right now is some sort of stalker.”
Morgan laughs as she grabs the card. Her eyes skim over the message.
“Well?” I prompt. “What does it say?”
She clears her throat and reads. “Some lilies for the lovely Lily. I am very sorry to hear of your misfortune. I know you can have little love for me right now, but I hope that in the future we might be friends. Best wishes, Asher.”
I stare at the flowers. Seriously? SERIOUSLY? If anyone is at fault for this mess, it’s Asher Julian. I can’t believe he had the nerve to send these. I still can’t believe I was stupid enough to trust him, even a little bit.
“What an ass,” Morgan says, tossing the card in the trash.
I grab the flowers and toss them in, too. My eyes have started to burn, but I’m too pissed to cry.
I should just channel all of my anger toward Asher Julian, but the truth is that I’m angry with myself. Angry for letting myself hope, even for a moment, that Calder had sent these flowers. Angry at myself for clinging to the idea of a relationship that’s over.
Angry at myself for shifting the blame to Asher. He might be dishonest and underhanded, but his article didn’t cause me and Calder to break up. It only brought out the fears and uncertainties that already existed between us. We never learned to trust all the details.” somethingpa each other.
“Are you okay?” I hear Morgan ask.
I nod. “I have a bit of a headache, that’s all. I think I’m going to call it an early night.”
But in spite of my intentions, I lie awake for a long time after I’ve gone to bed.
* * *
I finally convince my dad to let me go back to work later that week. It helps, being busy again. It keeps me feeling productive, not pathetic—a bit like my normal self once more.
I’m relieved to see that the Center hasn’t exploded in my absence, and that in fact, this class cycle is off to a wonderful start with a record number of students. Even Gina Billings, the woman who was determined to ruin us in the eyes of our donors, seems to have given up her crusade.