Wasted Time (The Steel City #1)

54. Penny

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

penny

I’m halfway through my workday a few days later when there’s a knock on the door. I pause, taking out my headphones, wondering if I’m going crazy or if someone actually is knocking on my door at one in the afternoon.

A few seconds pass of me staring out into the hall when three solid bangs pound on the door again. Slipping out of my room and to the door, I can make out the shape of a small person through the frosted glass.

Call it twin tuition, but I know who it is.

I skip down the stairs and open the door. Avery is standing there in her black puffer coat, her bright red beanie on her head. She’s holding two, white cups of coffee, one that is immediately ripped out of her hands by yours truly.

“Why aren’t you at work?” I ask suspiciously.

She rolls her eyes. “Hello to you, too. You’re welcome for the coffee.”

“Thank you for the coffee,” I say, stepping out of the way to let her inside. “Why aren’t you at work?”

She sighs as I shut the door behind her, shooting me a glare over her shoulder while she kicks off her boots. “If you must know, it’s a P.A. Day, mom .”

“Well, contrary to your schedule, I’m working,” I remind her, but she’s already trudging up the stairs to the main level.

“Oh, spare me. You probably finished all your work by noon. You forget that I lived with you for months. You know, before you betrayed me and moved out.”

I follow her up the stairs, sipping my latte. This coffee is enough for me to forgive her barging into the house with this attitude.

“Oh, spare me,” I mock her as we enter the kitchen. She pulls off her jacket and hangs it on the back of a chair. “You’re getting laid more often now that I’m out of your hair. Don’t pretend you aren’t.”

She smirks at me over the rim of her cup, shrugging her shoulders. Yeah, that’s what I thought. They have been able to enjoy being engaged now that I’m out of the house.

She tears off her beanie and sets it on the table.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask her as she sits at the table and crosses her legs. Her dark eyes flash up at me, mocking innocence. “You could have texted me and told me you’re coming by. You have my number, if you didn’t realize.”

“Oh, shut up,” she says, rolling her eyes. She gestures to the seat across from her. “Sit down. We need to talk.”

I stare at her.

Huh? About what? We talk every day, without fail. We talk about our mornings and our bowel movements. We are literally never not talking. We schedule Facetime coffee breaks every day of the week while we’re working.

This is an ambush.

I slowly reach for the back of the chair and pull it toward me, lowering myself onto it. “Is this about Wy?”

My heart sinks at the thought. He seems okay. If there’s something I need to know, something bad, I don’t know if I’ll survive it this time.

Avery waves her hand frantically. “Oh god, no. I’m sorry. No, Wyatt seems to be doing well, doesn’t he?”

My heart rights itself. I wonder when that instant panic will stop every time his name comes up unexpectedly. I still get shaky when my phone rings and I’m not waiting for a call.

“Yeah, he does.”

Avery smiles sympathetically, leaning back in her chair. I think Wyatt’s name packs a punch for most of us nowadays.

“This is about you , Pen. Not anyone else.”

I blink. “Me?”

I don’t like where this is going. I have a feeling that I know exactly where it’s heading and it’s the last thing I want to discuss. How many times do I have to say it for everyone to understand that?

Please, let me move on.

“I’m coming from a good place here. A place that wants to see you happy. Don’t rip my head off and don’t ice me out,” she prefaces, holding her hand up.

“Spit it out then,” I grumble.

“What are you doing?” she asks, eyes burning into my face. “Why are you sitting here, wallowing in self-pity, when you know what you need to do. You know what you want to do.”

I am not wallowing in self-pity. I’m trying to work. I’m trying to be a shoulder for Wyatt. I’m trying to heal .

I meet her eyes with a cold edged glare. It’s a warning. Don’t push me. Everyone else has been pushing me. She’s the only one who has left me more or less alone. I need it to stay like that. I need a safe space.

“Don’t give me that look,” she says.

“Enlighten me, Ave,” I glower, dropping my cup to the table. “What do I need to do to satisfy what you want for me? ”

“Don’t start,” she warns, her eyes hardening. “This isn’t about what I want. You sat on that step with me in shambles and you told me that you’re in love with him.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to chase him,” I say calmly. “It’s done. It’s what’s best for the both of us, and I think we have both accepted that. I think it’s what’s best for all of us.”

“Well, that’s a crock of shit.” She barks out a laugh, shaking her head.

My brow furrows.

She rolls her eyes at the look of confusion on my face.

“You fell in love and you’re depriving yourself of somebody who will be good for you. Sometimes in life, you have to take risks. This is a risk that you have to take. Is there a chance it might not end well? Yes, of course there is. But is there a chance that you might find the love of your life and finally feel that love that you deserve to feel? That chance is greater. That love is worth the risk.”

I swallow, my eyes averting to my cup. “You don’t get it.”

“Then explain it to me,” she pleads gently. “Because all I see is my best friend, my favourite person on this planet, suffering when she doesn’t have to be. Then I see Declan, who talks to Seth every day, doing everything he can not to think about you.”

My eyes dart back up to her. “What?”

“Whatever was said, neither of you meant it,” she says, those brown eyes softening. “He’s keeping himself so busy that he doesn’t have time to think about you. When Seth asks how he is, he skirts around the question. Seth can’t bring up your name without Declan finding a reason to end the call. He misses you.”

Or he just really wants to put this to bed that badly.

My heart clenches. “It’s not that simple.”

“Isn’t it?” she asks softly. “You care about each other. You made mistakes. You fought. So what? That happens. It only has to stay this way if you want it to.”

“I can’t,” I say so quietly that I barely hear my own voice.

It takes two. It takes an apology and forgiveness. I’m only sure about my own feelings and what I want. I can’t be positive that Declan will accept it. What if he chooses not to forgive me? Can I handle that?

“You can,” she tells me. She leans forward, sliding her cup out of the way to take my hand. Three squeezes, as usual. “But it has to be you. I love you, babe, but you have done the most damage here. You have to be the one to apologize, to try and mend this.”

I know. I can’t find the courage to do that. I can’t handle the thought of him turning me away. What if apologizing changes nothing? The thought makes me want to die. My pride is wounded, and my heart is fragile, and I have made so many mistakes in the last little while that I am ashamed of who I have become.

I can’t blame Gavin for this anymore. This is all me.

We finalized everything right after Wyatt was released. He sent me a bouquet of flowers when he heard. We’re officially done. It’s officially over, and I’m free.

“He told me he never wants to hear from me again,” I admit, meeting her eyes as my own burn.

Her face flashes with surprise, but then her brow furrows and she grips my hand tighter. I stare at her ‘333’ tattoo that matches mine on the inside of her elbow.

“Yeah, and then Wyatt almost died, Penny. That changed everything. I don’t think Declan will hold any grudges longer than he has to. You have to lick your wounds and do the same.”

I stare at her, stunned. “Avery.”

“I’m not apologizing. I saw the way you looked at each other when we sat around Wyatt’s hospital bed. You were always within arm’s reach of each other, even if you weren’t touching.”

I don’t remember that, but I was so wrapped up in Wyatt that I barely focused on anything else apart from staring at him and holding him and convincing myself that him being alive was real.

“Don’t forget, P, but forgive ,” she says softly. “You love him. Why are you willing to risk letting that go?”

I shut my eyes. “Because I don’t want to risk getting hurt again. I can’t handle somebody else walking away. I just can’t . I’d rather be alone than have to heal over and over again. It sucks , and it hurts, and I’m weak , Ave.”

Her thumb brushes against my hand. It’s such a soothing gesture that I find the courage to look at her. We’ve both got tears in our eyes now.

“But you’re hurting yourself now, anyway.” She smiles sadly. “You don’t have to admit it to me, but I see it. You’re already hurt. At least this way you’re hurting for something , not for nothing. And never call yourself weak again. You’re the furthest thing from it.”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” I ask, my voice breaking. My fears flood to the surface. “How am I supposed to come back from that? What if it’s all been too much? What if I’m too much?”

“Don’t talk about my best friend like that,” she warns, slapping my hand. “If anyone blames you for how you acted when you were in pain, they better be perfect. Declan’s not perfect. He knows you, and I think anyone who does knows that you’re worth the damn world.”

“And if he tells me to fuck off?”

“He won’t.”

“You don’t know that. ”

“I do. Seth told me all about breaking the pregame ritual for you. That’s practically a marriage proposal.”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Things have changed since then.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asks, dark brows shooting upward. “Then why does he still look at you the same way he did when we were twenty-one?”

“Before or after we screamed at each other in a hospital waiting room?” I remind her, shooting her a look.

“It’s called tension, baby. That means you guys have a lot of unresolved, heightened emotions that need to be let loose in some way.”

“Or it means that we couldn’t even pretend to be getting along in the worst moment of our lives.”

Avery considers this for a moment. She taps her fingers against her coffee cup and then leans forward, her stare piercing.

“Fine, you want a real answer? After you screamed at each other in the hospital waiting room, right about the moment you were having a full-blown meltdown and he managed to calm you down when nobody else in the room stood a chance of bringing you back to earth. He anchored you while you were busy anchoring the rest of us. He’s the only person in that room that you would have let do that for you.”

My heart burns a bit at that.

“He looks at you like you are the only person in the world. He’s looked at you that way since the very first time you yelled at him when we were in college.”

I stare at her, a tear finally falling.

“I couldn’t have even anchored you in that moment.”

Fuck. My heart jolts to life.

“So.” She smiles smugly, seeing the defeat as it washes over me. She smacks the table. “Let’s plan this grand apology, shall we?”