“Because I know you, Morgan. You’re dwelling on how you didn’t get back home in time. The guilt is so obvious on your face, and it keeps you from moving forward.”

“How would you know any of this, Jen? You haven’t been in my life. You don’t know anything about my life now.” I can’t stop the defensive tone in my voice, but I hate being told how I’m supposed to be feeling with all of this.

“I know, but I’m right. You know I’m right.”

I shake my head, not wanting to give her the satisfaction that she is right.

“You can’t move on when you never confront your feelings. You bury them, and I know that’s what you’ve been doing since he passed away.”

“Yeah, well…who else should I blame?”

“Blame whoever you want…but don’t push it away as if it didn’t happen.” She sighs, choking back her own tears. “Your mom told me you don’t paint anymore.”

I shake my head and choke in a laugh. “Of course she did. That’s what I get for telling my mom.”

“That’s a shame. You’re really talented.”

“I haven’t exactly been inspired.”

She stands up and pushes her chair back in, wrapping her jacket around her arm. “Well, find what does inspire you and hang on to it. But don’t let the guilt keep you from living your own life. Not just for you, but for that precious little girl, too. She needs you more than anything.”

I watch as she walks away without a glance back. As much as the anger builds up inside me at what she did, I know her words are true.

I have been beating myself up and probably always will if I don’t let the feelings surface and learn to deal with them properly.

Being with Aspen, I thought I was. I really thought I could get passed it or at least learn to move forward. I thought we could fight our battles together and come out stronger, but now I feel so lost without her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

ASPEN

I can’t remember the last time I’ve really slept. My sleeping pills make me tired enough to get a few solid hours in, but I still wake up numb.

It feels like months, but it’s only been a couple weeks. If I’m not at work or school, I’m in bed not sleeping. I listen to Christina Perri and The Band Perry on repeat until I cry myself to sleep, which actually only ends up being a couple hours at a time until a memory of him—us—wake me up.

He doesn’t look at me during class. I can’t blame him, but it’s killing me. I can’t even blame him for being upset about that, but he hardly even fought for me. The moment I told him the truth about the Ariel Rose Collection, he just let me go. He walked out, ripping my heart in two on the way.

I’ve been trying to distract myself as best as I can with working a couple extra shifts at the gallery and chatting with Ellie—anything to avoid the urge to look at Morgan.

The semester ends in about a month, and then I won’t have to see his tense, expressionless face twice a week anymore. I can see he’s putting on a front, smiling and cracking jokes with the other students—except me, of course.

Ellie notices a change in my behavior and pushes me for answers. I play it off as having a stressful couple of weeks. With finals approaching, I’ve been staying up late studying and coming to school overtired. It’s not farfetched considering my zombie-like look, so she buys it.

I should’ve known I couldn’t avoid them for long. After last weekend’s wine fest, I’ve avoided hanging out with them so I could wallow alone.

“What are you doing here?” I ask casually, not trying to sound rude, but today’s a day I’d rather just suffer alone in silence.

Kendall and Zoe stand at my door with their arms firmly crossed and a sly smile on their faces. “You’re not spending your birthday alone in pink kitten pajamas and fuzzy socks.”

I look down and scowl. “What’s wrong with fuzzy socks?”

Kendall snorts and Zoe pushes her way inside. “We come bearing gifts, birthday girl. Come on.”

I groan, shutting the door behind them as they both walk in and aim right for the couch. “These gifts better get me drunk.”

“Would we get you anything else?”

We settle in with our glasses of wine, and I lay against the arm of the couch before Kendall eyes me up and down.

“So you look like death.”

“Thanks.” I deadpan.

“I take it you didn’t karate chop Ms. Bitch’s face off?” Zoe asks with a brow arched, sitting on the other end of the couch.

“Nope.”

“I bet the three of us could take her,” Aspen offers, getting a small smile out of me.

“It’s not that,” I assure them, even though it’s part of it. “Just not a fan of celebrating my birthday.” It’s the truth, but after six birthdays, I’ve gotten really good at staying numb to it.

“All right, up. We’re going out to do something fun for your birthday. You need a distraction.” Kendall stands up.

“I have a distraction. Her name is Chardonnay.” I hold up my almost empty wine glass and grin.

“You can’t just drink yourself to death.” Zoe grabs my hand and pulls me up. “You drink while doing something fun. That way it looks recreational.” She winks, and I resist the urge to laugh.

I don’t have the energy to argue, so I do as they say.

An hour later, I’m showered, dressed, and looking semi-decent. Kendall insists on driving, so I can’t escape early. Not that I’d even try at this point. Anything is probably better than wallowing in my apartment alone.

“Where are we going?” I ask from the backseat.

Yeah, she wouldn’t even let me sit in the front.

“You’ll see. Be there soon,” she calls from the driver’s seat.

“Don’t you think turning on the childproof locks is a bit extreme?” I pout. She meets my eyes in the rearview mirror, and I can tell she’s scowling at me. “Fine,” I mutter.

We pull up to a small Ma and Pop shop with large white windows and a chandelier in the foyer. Above the door reads, The Art Shoppe. 

“What are we doing here?”

“Come and see,” Zoe says, opening the door and getting out.

Kendall opens the door for me with a wide smirk.

“Come on,” I groan. “Why are we here?”

“It’s called a Sip ’n Paint and, Aspen Danielle Evans, you are going to enjoy it. Do you hear me?” she says in a motherly tone.

I try to hold in my laughter. “Fine.” I say and follow her in. “As long as I can Sip A lot ’n Paint.”

She snorts and leads us through the entrance.

By the end of our Sip ’n Paint party, I feel much better—probably because I’ve managed to have six glasses of wine—but nevertheless, it ended up being more fun than sitting in my apartment alone. Kendall only drank half a glass since she was driving, so I took the liberty of drinking hers for her.

That’s what friends are for.

Once I’m home and the alcohol burns off, I’m alone again—alone in my apartment reminiscing about everything I’ve managed to lose in my life. I try to remember that I only have one year left of college before I move on to graduate school. I could go anywhere. Move. Travel. But even with all my options and potential experience, I’d choose to be here with Morgan. I’d leave it all behind if it meant we could be together.

Ms. Jones has been so wrapped up in the gallery, she hasn’t noticed anything at all. Or at least, she’s pretending not to. During my weekend shift, I overhear her phone conversation.

“Oh my God!” Her high-pitched tone grabs my attention. “Is she all right? Are they doing an X-ray?” She’s silent a moment. “Well, you let me know when you find anything out. Tell her Aunt Melly loves her, okay? If you need anything, call me. I’ll leave here right away.” Her voice is serious, and I can’t help eavesdropping to hear the whole story. “Are you sure? I can come to the hospital if you need me to.” My breathing quickens as I think about who she’s talking about… “Okay, call me later, dear. Bye bye.”