Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

MELANIE

“ H urry up!” my mother urges, standing in my doorway. “I’m hungry and I need to get ready for work in an hour.”

Giving up on putting things away, I sigh. “Okay. I’ll change and meet you in the living room.”

I’ve been organizing my room since we came inside. I haven’t gotten very far, but I’ll finish the rest when I come back from the party. Even though I’m not in the mood to celebrate anything, I’d feel bad making my mom go alone.

Not showing up would also be rude to Kent, Oliver, and Simon. We had a good relationship once; I’d hate to ruin the chance to rebuild it after being apart so long.

I change into jeans, boots, and a cute oversized knit sweater. Running a brush through my hair, I decide to leave it down, but spend a little time on my makeup. If I’m going out, I want to look nice. I haven’t seen these people in years, and there’s no way I’m not presenting the best me.

When I’m ready, we head over to Kent’s. There are a few cars already parked outside.

Who all did they invite?

Heart pounding, I feel sweat beads on my forehead despite the cold. I don’t mind seeing Kent, Simon, and Oliver, but I’m worried about others. People can be judgmental, and I’m not looking forward to conversing about why I came home suddenly after twenty years away.

My mom knocks on the front door. A few moments later, Oliver opens it. He smiles, showing off the wrinkles around his mouth from aging. He looks even more distinguished and handsome than he did growing up.

“Hey!” He gives us each a hug. “I’m glad you made it. Kent said you were back. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” My cheeks flush at his compliment. I haven’t gotten one of those in a long time. “You look good too.”

“I try.” He dusts off his button-up shirt, making me laugh. “Come on in. Kent and Simon are in the kitchen.”

“Simon in a kitchen?” I place a hand over my chest as we enter. “I guess twenty years is enough time to learn how to cook.”

“Oh God, no. If he even looks at the stove, the house will be on fire. He’s getting wasted.”

“Ah. Nothing’s changed, then.”

Laughing, Oliver wraps an arm around my shoulders. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.”

It’s as if no time has passed. We’ve fallen back into our banter like we’ve been best friends the entire time, not separated and lost contact since our senior year in college. Looking up into his smiling brown eyes, I’m transported back to when my life wasn’t so complicated.

I haven’t been home long, but I already feel more comfortable than I have in years.

“Well, I miss food,” my mom speaks up.

I roll my eyes as we laugh at her teasing. Walking through the living room, people Mom and I are acquainted with say hello. We reply in kind, but don’t stop for an in-depth chat. I’ll save those for after I’ve had a drink to ease my nerves.

“Hey!” Simon and Kent call out as we enter the kitchen.

“I’m glad you came.” Kent pushes the food on the island counter forward. “Get some food, since I know that’s the only reason you came.” He winks at my mom.

I chuckle at their playfulness. Must be nice to be that carefree. I’m a bit jealous they can be that way; with all my trauma, it’s hard for me to open myself up to that without being afraid of disappointment.

She chuckles. “Sorry. If I didn’t have to work, I’d stay longer.”

“Oh, shit. I didn’t know that. Here. I’ll pack your stuff. You can come visit another day.” Kent assures her.

“Give her cake.” Simon tells Kent, patting my mom on the shoulder as he passes by her. “Melanie and I don’t care if it’s missing a piece.”

Furrowing my eyebrows, I ask, “What does that have to do with me?”

“Because you came home too.” Simon scoffs and pulls me into his side. “Kent carved your name into the icing.”

His embrace is much tighter than the one Oliver gave me. Once upon a time, it wouldn’t have made me uncomfortable, but with how much time has passed, it feels strange to be so intimate with him. It’s a reminder that things are not what they used to be, despite what I felt earlier.

Barely touching his back, I give him an awkward half-hug. “That’s sweet, but you didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” Kent says. “If I had known sooner, I’d have told the baker to put it in before I picked it up.”

I cringe from the guilt I feel having them be so considerate of me while I was hesitant to come. “Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I was returning, but to be fair, I only knew about Oliver being in town.”

“We’re just glad you’re home.” Oliver pats my back.

I fight to keep from shrinking away. I forgot how touchy-feely these three were. It’s going to take a bit to get used to this again.

“Want a drink? We have stuff to make a screwdriver,” Oliver offers.

Oh, thank God.

“Yes,” I breathe.

Alcohol is definitely what I need to help me loosen up. While I’ve swapped over to drinking wine in recent years rather than strong drinks, I’d agree to anything as long as it has alcohol in it.

Oliver walks over to the fridge and pulls out the orange juice.

“Let’s eat.” Simon guides me toward the bar. “I’m starving, and if I don’t get some food in me, I’m going to be drunk far too early.”

I breathe out a sigh of relief as he releases me. We make our plates, and instead of going to the living room where everyone else is, we sit at the kitchen table. Oliver and Kent join us after my mother grabs her food and says goodbye.

I feel bad they’re ignoring their other guests, but it doesn’t seem to faze anyone except me. People come in to collect their food before moseying back to the other room.

“So, how long you staying?” Simon asks with a flirtatious gleam in his green eyes.

I shrug, uncertainty clouding my enthusiasm. “For the unforeseeable future. I have no plans to leave again.”

“Didn’t work out?” Oliver frowns.

I shake my head. It’s no secret I was married and living in the city. Being neighbors, our parents often shared news with each other about our excursions. They weren’t as close as we were. A quick, “ Hello, how are you and your kids?” was the gist of their relationship.

Simon squeezes my hand atop the table. “He wasn’t good enough for our girl anyway.”

I laugh. “You never met him.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Kent runs a hand through his tousled sandy-blond hair to get it out of his face and gives me a gentle smile. “No one is good enough for you.”

Oliver and Simon nod in agreement. My chest fills with warmth. I’m a volleyball of emotions today; seeing the guys again contributes to it greatly, but as I drink more liquid courage, it helps me push aside the shame and worry that keeps disrupting my peace.

How have I survived without these three in my corner for so long?

Oliver, Kent, and Simon have always supported me in anything I wanted to do, even if they didn’t like it. My ex wasn’t like that. He argued until he got his way like a spoiled brat.

My earlier concerns about their opinion of me and the life I chose to live seem stupid now. For the first time in a long time, I have a sense of belonging. This is where I’m supposed to be. Back in my hometown with my three best friends.

Tears burn my eyes. “Thanks, guys.” I blink them back, not wanting to be a downer. “What have you three been up to? My mom didn’t tell me much.”

“I was married for about two years,” Oliver says. “As much as we tried to make it work, it was clear pretty early on it wasn’t going to. Honestly, I shouldn’t have gotten married to begin with. I moved back here shortly after the divorce. A year after that, my parents passed.”

“I’m sorry you went through so much. I wanted to come home for the funeral, but I was dealing with some things by then and couldn’t.” I frown.

He waves me off. “It’s fine. Thank you for the flowers, though. Your mom said you helped pay for them.”

I nod, but it doesn’t seem like enough. I should have been a better friend. Instead, I was so consumed with my own problems, it was easier to just stay with my ex-husband than argue over why I was leaving.

“I haven’t been a very good friend. I should have tried harder to keep in touch. It’s obvious you all did.”

Kent shrugs. “We messaged each other every few months, but it wasn’t consistent or anything. It was a quick ‘how are you,’ and that was it.”

“Still…” I mumble.

“Hey,” Simon squeezes my hand. I was so comfortable, I didn’t realize he was still holding it until now. “We understand why you didn’t keep in contact. We don’t blame you for it. You were trying to make a life for yourself and your husband. Don’t apologize for that.”

My tears fight to come back. I suck in a deep breath to calm myself. “A lot of good that did, but thank you.”

“Our lives haven’t been all that fulfilling either,” Simon admits. “I came back because I felt lost too. I’m tired of spending all my time bouncing around from place to place with no real connections to anyone or anything.”

“Same,” Kent says. “I mean, I had a place, but I hated my job and all I did was work and go to bars on the weekend. It gets old. When my parents told me their plan to sell the house and store, I decided I’d rather be here than in California.”

“We need heavier drinks to ignore our problems,” Oliver mutters.

I nod as our laughter echoes around us. Simon grabs a bottle of tequila off the bar and four shot glasses before returning to the table. He pours us each a drink.

Lifting his glass, he says, “To getting fucked up and pretending we’re not old enough to feel it in the morning.”

Kent, Oliver, and I grab our shots and clink them together. I’ve missed this. There was once a connection between us that I’d never been able to find with anyone else. I’ve had many friendships through the years—some lasting longer than others—but they never felt as strong as what I had with them.

Being able to experience that again now is a blessing. And I’m thankful for it.