I looked at her in disbelief. “Everything you said I did yesterday. An explanation. The chance to say goodbye. An apology for breaking my promise to stay out of trouble.”
“I did say all that yesterday, didn’t I?” Her posture deflated a little, then perked up again. “But you know what, I’ve had a chance to think a little more since then. And I understand better why you did what you did. You thought you were doing me a favor by setting me free.”
I nodded. “But I never forgot you.”
She blushed and dropped her eyes to her lap. “I never forgot you, either. In fact, I had this”—she squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head—“oh my God, this is really embarrassing, but I had this pillowcase made with your face on it.”
My jaw dropped as I turned to face her. “What?”
The pink in her cheeks deepened to scarlet. “After you left, I had a pillowcase made with your face on it because I missed you so much. I used to hide it from my mother by keeping it under my mattress, but every night I would take it out and put it on my pillow. I did my own laundry by then, so she never saw it.” She giggled, cringing a little. “My sisters found out, and they tease me about it to this day.”
“Do you still have it?”
“No. Eventually, I was too angry to even sleep with your face. And I knew I had to get over you, so I threw it out before I went to New York.”
“You threw out my face?” I pretended to be horrified.
“Well, I’m sorry!” She threw both hands in the air, then leaned forward placing them on my thighs. “I had no idea you were going to come back into my life. I would have saved it if I had known.”
“Then I win.” I signaled the bartender and pulled out my wallet.
Maren sat up straight again. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I kept your face all this time.” I opened my wallet, took out the sketch of her profile, and unfolded it. “See?”
She stared at the picture as if transfixed. Her mouth fell open. Slowly, she reached for it, taking it in both her hands. The bartender came over, told us our drinks were on the house courtesy of the owner, and I thanked him, pulling some cash from my wallet to leave as a tip. When I looked at Maren again, she hadn’t moved. Tears dripped from her lashes.
“Hey,” I said, rubbing her back. “That wasn’t supposed to make you sad. It was supposed to prove that I’m a better person than you are.”
She laughed, but the tears continued to fall. “I’m sorry, it’s just … You’ve really carried this in your wallet all these years?”
“Yeah. I drew it the night before I found out I had to leave.”
“I remember that night. You picked me up from ballet, and I was mad at you for getting in trouble again.”
I nodded. “We sat in my car in your driveway and I remember looking at you and thinking how badly I wanted to draw you.”
“So when did you do it?”
“When I got home. I was going to give it to you, but the next morning my parents told me they were shipping me out, and I forgot about the picture with all the chaos.” I paused. “And by chaos, I mean frantic sexual acts in the church parking lot.”
She sniffed, her lips tipping up. “Yeah, that night was intense. I remember thinking later how it made sense, since you knew you were going. And whenever I started to feel bad about myself and doubt that you’d ever loved me, I would remember that night and tell myself you wouldn’t have seemed so tortured if you hadn’t really cared.”
I stared at her. “You thought maybe I didn’t love you?”
Her shoulders rose, and she looked up at me with a helpless expression. “What was I supposed to think? You told me you loved me, but then you were gone without a word. I figured I hadn’t meant that much to you.”
For a second, I was dumbfounded. Then angry with myself. Then determined to make her understand what she meant to me, if it was the last thing I did.
I grabbed her arm and yanked her off the stool. “Come with me.”
“Dallas, what the hell?” She stumbled along behind me, still holding on to the drawing, her feet scrambling to keep up with my long strides. I led her around the back of the brick building, toward where we’d parked, but was too impatient to wait until we reached the car. As soon as we were alone, I swung her around and took her face in my hands. Her skin was luminous in the dark.
“Listen to me,” I said. “Not a day has gone by that I didn’t think of you and regret what I’d done. Not one fucking day.”