Page 58 of This for That (The Edge of Retaliation 1)
She stares at both of us again, and then nods, letting us into her apartment. It’s modern and clean, very tidy. Sophie always was really tidy.
“This is a great place,” I tell her, looking around. “Have you been here long?”
“I rented this place a year ago. I like it.”
She turns and faces us, and I get right to it, because I don’t want to waste her time. I’m sure I’ve done enough damage in Sophie’s world without adding to it now.
“Listen, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for what happened that night all those years ago. I know you went through a really hard time after it, and I’m truly sorry for that. I never meant to hurt anyone; I never meant to hurt you. I owe it to you to tell you this, even though it makes little to no difference now.”
Sophie exhales, and then says, “I’m not angry at you, Callie. It wasn’t your fault what happened that night. We were all messing around, and we shouldn’t have been. You didn’t mean what happened, I know that, but yes, I was traumatized. It took me years to get in a car again, but I don’t blame you, nor do I have any ill feelings towards you. I do, however, appreciate your apology.”
Oh. Thank God. My heart feels just a touch lighter at her words. “That means a lot to me—it really does.”
Jo smiles, looking relieved for me.
“I’m glad you’re out, and living your life again. You didn’t deserve to go away for as long as you did,” Sophie says.
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“Did you guys want a drink?” she asks. “We can catch up? It has been a long time. You two haven’t changed a bit.”
And just like that, I’ve gotten one bit of forgiveness out of the way. I don’t think Sophie will ever truly understand just how much that means to me. I’m so grateful to her for opening her heart and giving me that.
“That sounds incredible,” Jo says, and we sit down at her table while she prepares some coffee.
“What have you been up to, Jo?” Sophie asks from the kitchen. “Last time I heard, you were still with Patrick?”
“Yes, we’re still together, though right now, I’m living with Callie until she gets back on her feet.”
Also, her husband is a dick and she can’t get away from him. I don’t say that of course.
“Are you working, Callie?” Sophie asks, bringing the coffee to the table and placing it down along with some sugar and creamer.
“I am, actually. A friend of mine has a sister that runs a little café. She was happy to take me on.”
“That’s awesome.” Sophie smiles. “I’m happy for you. It must have been hard, coming out after so long.”
I nod. “It was, but Jo has been amazing, and I settled into life a lot easier than I thought I would.”
“What about you?” Jo asks her. “Your job looks pretty high-end?”
Sophie nods. “It is. I am studying to become a lawyer, so I’m doing a lot of work at the firm to get experience. It’s awesome. I really enjoy it.”
“That’s amazing,” I tell her, so damned glad to hear she has gone the right way and what happened hasn’t completely destroyed her life.
“Do you know much about where Jessika is these days?” Jo asks the question I had been avoiding since we got here.
Sophie nods, but her face drops a little. “She’s back in town, but . . . she went down a pretty bad road after the accident. She just fell into this depression. Last time I heard, she was in rehab for drug use.”
Oh.
God.
My heart aches at the thought. It’s funny how that works. The smallest movement can create a ripple effect that goes soul-crushingly deep.
“I’d like to speak to her still, even if it means absolutely nothing and she hates me. I owe her at least that.”
Sophie nods. “You’re doing a really kind thing. I can give you the rehab she was at; as I said, I don’t know if she’s there anymore. I visited her a few months ago when I heard she was back in town. She was in a bad way. I didn’t go again, which is sad, because once, she was my best friend.”
“You two fell apart fully after the accident?” I ask.
“Yeah, mostly. We spoke for a few years. I tried to help her through her depression, but she just wouldn’t pick up. She thought losing her leg meant her whole world was forever ruined, and she sunk. Eventually, she moved away with her family, and moved back only recently. We used to text occasionally, and I have her on Facebook, but other than that, no, we don’t really talk.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I tell her.
I mean it. I am sorry.
