Page 29 of You Met Me There

“You got it,” she replies. “I could use a glass as well.” As she pulls the bottle from the fridge and fills two long-stemmed glasses, she points to the gift bags still dangling from my fingers. “What’re those?”

“Oh.” I chuckle, placing them on the end of the counter. “They’re just little gifts I picked up for your boys. I didn’t have much going on today, and shopping helps calm my anxiety.”

My hand flies up to cover my lips, and I cut my eyes to Juliet. I didn’t mean to simply tell her about my anxiety. I never tell anyone about that.

But she doesn’t seem to notice as she hands my drink to me. At least, she doesn’t look surprised by it, anyway. She just nods her head and sips from her glass. I do the same, taking a long pull and gulping it down.

“Are you nervous?” she asks me then. I meet her brown eyes. “To see Mom and Dad?”

My eyes fall to the tiled floor, and I nod. “Yes. I’m afraid they’ll hate me. Like I thought you would.”

When I look up again, Juliet has her hip against the sink. “I don’t hate you.” Her voice is warm—not cold like I’d gotten hints of yesterday. “I’m just processing a lot. All the years without you, how you left, the shock of you being here again. I’ve created a whole life since you left, and I’m also worried that you don’t know me anymore.”

“Yeah,” I murmur. “That all makes sense. I guess I don’t know much about you … But I want to. And you’ve been so welcoming—I don’t deserve that.”

She shrugs. “I haven’t been that welcoming. I only gave you Moscato and called Mom and Dad for you.”

We stand there looking at each other for a few seconds, and then the doorbell rings. My parents burst through the door, not waiting for someone to answer. And why would they? They’re Juliet’s parents, and the grandparents of her kids. They belong here. Unlike me.

Mom’s voice calls out, “Natalie?”

I push off from the counter, and Mom rounds the corner, swooping into the kitchen, her arms outstretched. I’m only able to take one step toward her before her tan arms wrap around my shoulders and the scent of her rosy perfume surrounds me. In a blink, I’m a child again.

And that’s when the dam breaks.

I start to cry, and Mom rubs my back, her hand soft and warm and reassuring like I always remembered it to be. Dad steps up behind her, tears welling in his brown eyes behind his glasses, and he joins in the hug, embracing us both in his strong, steady arms.

“Shhh, shhh,” Mom soothes. “It’s okay. You’re here. I just can’t believe it.” Her voice is shaky with tears too.

I hadn’t thought about exactly what it would feel like for my parents to have lost a daughter. But their reaction tells me it was worse than I had imagined. They keep repeating to each other “she’s here” and “it’s a miracle,” as if I had died and come back to life. And maybe that’s exactly what it felt like for them.

I cry harder.

When I can finally take a breath, Mom and Dad both step back to look at me and wipe their eyes. Mom reaches out to touch the ends of my hair. I let out a sniffling chuckle. I must look like a totally different person to them now.

“We’ve missed you so much,” says Dad. He looks proud to see me, but I know there are layers of hurt beneath the wrinkles on his face. He’s aged in the years I’ve been gone, and I hate myself more for missing precious time with them.

My lip quivers. “I missed you too. I’m … I’m so sorry, Daddy.” Tears roll down my face again, hot and thick. They drip down my jaw and under my chin, and I wipe at them before they can go any farther.

Mom steps aside to let Dad pull me into a gentle embrace. He’s a head taller than me, and his stubbly gray beard pokes into the top of my skull, but I don’t pull away. I missed these hugs.

“We forgive you, my girl. Of course we do.” His voice is raspier than it once was, not as strong. And it shakes now with emotion.

I want to ask them how. How can they forgive me after everything I did? After everything I put them through? They mourned me, and they’re simply letting me off the hook like a high schooler who broke curfew.

But I won’t ask them any of it—not right now. I don’t want to ruin the moment or the dinner we’re about to sit down to.

“Thanks, Dad,” I whisper into his shoulder. “I missed you so much.” My full meaning can’t fit into so few words. I’ll forever miss the time I lost with them.

Mom rubs my back again and leans in, resting her forehead against mine while Dad holds me.

It’s definitely not what I thought our reunion would look like, but I certainly wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

When I look up, Juliet has tears glistening down her red cheeks.

Chapter 17

Natalie