Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 87856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I run my hand through my hair so I don't grab my phone. I want to read her entry. I want to understand everything I can. "I guess so."
"I'll tell Ollie I'll meet him at his place," she says.
"Doesn't he live with his dad and sister?"
"Not anymore." She grabs her phone and taps a text. "But I appreciate you looking out for my ability to get laid."
"You have sex here?" I ask.
"Oh? You never had sex in your parents' place?"
In high school, sure. Now? No. "Not when they're home."
"Mom is working late," she says.
"So you're alone a lot?"
"Yeah," she says. "Now that Divya isn't here. She was always my primary caretaker. But I'm going to meet her in London in August and we're going to tour Europe together."
"You want to travel with your mom?"
"Of course," Luna says. "But I hate traveling with Allison, so I get the hesitation."
"Why is it different with Divya?"
"Both my moms say I'm more like the other. I guess I'm like them in different ways," she says. "Divya and I are more in sync with rest and relaxation. She's better at it than me, actually. She loves the world, the beauty and wonder and thrill of it. You know?"
"Yeah."
"So." She smiles as her cell pings with a reply. Blushes as she reads. "Let's talk Patrick business." She sets her cell face down on the table next to mine. They're the same model. Imogen has the same model too.
It's a popular one. I usually don't notice.
But right now?
There's so much temptation and information on my phone. The thought of her grabbing mine, reading every entry of Hearts and Thorns?
I hate it.
Luna focuses her attention on me. "What happened?"
"You're going to think I'm an asshole."
"Probably." She opens her coffee. "But I'll refrain from commentary."
"I really like her," I say. "I don't want to fuck this up."
She softens. "I won't judge. I promise."
I raise a brow.
"Really. We all do fucked-up shit. I've seen you with her. I can tell you care about her."
"I do."
"That's what matters."
"Other things matter," I say.
"Yeah. But that matters a lot." She motions go on.
I start at the beginning. Finding Imogen's online diary, falling for that version of her, meeting her at the shop, accepting her invitation.
Realizing the women who thrilled my body and my mind were, in fact, the same woman.
I don't share the details—the sexual ones, or the ugly ones. I don't tell her what Imogen did, exactly what drove me to look for meaning after Deidre died, but she guesses anyway.
"It wasn't an accident, was it?" Luna asks.
"Depends how you define accident," I say.
"And you went looking to understand why someone would do that."
It's not a question, but I nod anyway. I cover for Imogen without thinking. "She writes about her struggle with depression, but it's never depressing. It's heavy sometimes, but it's funny too. She's got a wicked sense of humor."
"Like Ollie."
He did make a lot of dark jokes, back in the day. "He's still funny?"
"Sober? Yeah. Way more funny if you ask me. But you didn't. So, don't try to distract me by talking about my boyfriend."
"I want to do the right thing."
She leans back on the couch. "And that is?"
"I thought you could help me figure it out."
"Really, Tricky? She has a tattoo that says 'truth is my light' in Latin."
"She didn't tell me."
"So?"
She's right. I should tell her. That's what she would want. But I can't. "She'll run away."
"Maybe. But that's her choice, isn't it?"
"Easy to say."
"Yes. It's always easy to make the right choice for someone else. There's nothing at stake. But that doesn't change things."
"What would you do?"
"Honestly?"
"Yeah." I take another sip. Fail to find understanding in my coffee drink.
"If I stumbled on Oliver's online journal?"
"Yeah."
"Before we were really together or now?"
"Now."
"I'd read it, see what he says about me, if he's hiding anything, if he's drinking in secret."
"That was fast."
"I don't lie to myself," she says.
"Do you think most people would do the same?"
"I think we're curious and we're used to the idea of anything online being fair game."
"You're people smart for a nerd."
"I'm not a nerd," she says. "But thanks."
"Would it be wrong if you read Ollie's online journal?"
"Yeah."
"But you'd do it anyway?"
"I love him," she says. "But there's so much in that love. In that trust even. The desire for honesty and the nagging at the back of my head—what if he's not being honest? What if he's hiding something? Maybe I don't read him as well as I think I do. Maybe it's different for other people. Maybe I'm weak or maybe it's his alcoholism. He didn't share it with me for a while. And that was his right, but it still…"
"Made you wonder?"
"Everyone has something."
"And you had Daisy too," I say.
"It's not the same as your sister. I'd never say it is." She opens her bar of chocolate and offers me a piece.