Desperate Chances
Page 68

“I’ll keep it of course. This was my parents’ house. I would never sell it. I guess I’ll see if Mitch wants to keep living here. If not, then maybe I’ll rent it out. I’ve got some time before I have to worry about all that.”
I felt a momentary panic. “Why wouldn’t Mitch want to live here? Is he planning to move as well?” My voice sounded a little shrill in my ears.
Garrett raised an eyebrow and regarded me levelly. “He hasn’t said, but we’re all in a state of flux right now. So we’ll see where his path takes him.” He got up and carried his coffee cup to the sink and rinsed it out. “So you want to tell my why you’re really here? I know it’s not to shoot the shit.”
“Maybe I just wanted a visit,” I replied obstinately.
“It’s okay to admit, you know,” Garrett said, turning back around and leaning against the counter, folding his arms across his lean chest.
“What’s okay?” I asked. I was being purposefully obtuse. He knew. I knew it.
“That you came over here to see Mitchie boy.”
My cheeks flushed and I had to look away from my friend. “I wasn’t really—” I prepared to lie but Garrett interrupted me before I could finish.
“Yes you are. I saw that wild look on your face when you got here. Something happened while I was in Boston.” I couldn’t deny it.
Garrett frowned, looking thoughtful. “I had hoped that you guys would work everything out. I think the two of you are making a mistake by being so pigheaded.” He ran his hand over his mouth and chuckled. “Though I know how hard it is to get someone to see what’s right in front of them. Particularly when they’re stubborn as hell.”
“I don’t think I’m being stubborn. But our lives are in different places. He’s with someone else. I realized things too late. We missed our chance. I thought we could be friends.” I sighed. It was a sad, mournful sound. “But I don’t think that’s really possible. Because with Mitch and me, there’s always something…”
“More?” Garrett filled in.
I nodded. “Yeah. Something more. I hurt him badly, Garrett. I’m sure you know what happened.”
“Mitch told me some of it. I also know he made a knee jerk reaction when he got with Sophie. He shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t right to her. To him. Or to you. A rebound is the worst thing you can do when your heart is hurting.”
“But he seems happy.” As I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. Mitch didn’t seem happy. He seemed… resigned. And that was not the same thing.
“We both know that’s bullshit.” Garrett picked up his bag. “I’ve got to go put this stuff away. You can hang out or whatever but I don’t know when Mitch will be back.”
“Okay,” I said quietly, standing up.
Garrett paused before exiting the kitchen. He turned back to me. “Don’t give up on what you guys have. Because it’s something special, G, and you both deserve that. Don’t lie to yourself by saying he’s better off without you. Because that, my friend, is a load a crap and we both know it.” With a wave, he headed up stairs and I was left alone.
I pulled out my phone and looked at the time. I needed to get to work.
I grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled a quick note on it. It was time to go old school to make my point.
I took the stairs two at a time and stopped just outside of Mitch’s bedroom door. I hesitated before opening it. It felt strange to go inside when he wasn’t there. Like I was violating his privacy.
I gripped the note in my hand and walked in anyway.
Screw privacy. There were important things at stake.
Like getting us back to where we needed to be.
The smell of him hit me as soon as I walked inside. It brought with it a thousand memories. A thousand happy days and never ending smiles. It also brought with it a lot of heartache.
The place was a mess. The bed was unmade and there were clothes on the floor. Mitch Abrams was an unabashed slob.
I snorted at the sight of his overflowing hamper and three days worth of dishes piled up on the desk in the corner. His room, like his vehicle, could be labeled a toxic dump.
Though it hadn’t bothered me too much when I used to come over. I was able to overlook his grimy tendencies so easily. That should have been an obvious sign of my feelings for him. Nothing says I love you like not bitching about dirt and clutter.
I went to leave the note on the dresser when something caught my eye.
In the middle of discarded Twizzler wrappers and piles of change was a collection of hair ties. Blue, red, pink, purple. They were twisted into a knot and placed on top of a small wooden box.
Small hair ties. Stretched out hair ties. All mine. Some of them I had left by accident. Others I had purposefully kept in his room so that I had one should I need it.
And they were still there. A year since the last time I had entered his room.
I picked up the bundle of hair ties, gripping them in my hand. I rested my hand on the lid of the box debating whether to open it.
Don’t, Gracie. You’ve already rudely entered his room without being invited, don’t make it worse.
They say curiosity killed the cat. My curiosity almost broke my heart.
I opened the box with shaking hands and reached inside. My fingers closed around a stack of photographs, which I promptly lifted out.
I shouldn’t be looking at these. I need to put them back, leave the note, and get the hell out of his room. It wasn’t right to snoop around like this.