Out of the Shallows (Into the Deep #2)(49)
Author: Samantha Young

Perhaps if I’d confided in Jake sooner, I would’ve ended up on Andie’s doorstep months ago. Or perhaps I needed the time and distance from all the players in my story to find my way back to them. I guess I’d never know. And I knew I’d never know if Andie and I could find our way back if I didn’t knock on her door.

Claudia and Beck had been really understanding. Beck was coping with his own issues and I didn’t want to take anything away from that. The road trip was about him and I needed to let the three of them go so they could help him work that out. I was going to call my parents and ask them to book me a flight to Chicago from San Francisco, but Claudia insisted on using her parents’ credit card. I tried to say no. Our road trip had been funded by that credit card and I didn’t want to take advantage. Claudia said it was the only thing her parents were good for, so in the end, that—and my desire to hold onto my courage while I still had it—was the reason I accepted her help.

I got a taxi to the airport, leaving the three of them at the beach.

I couldn’t bear to say to goodbye to Jake in the airport… I didn’t know when or if I’d ever say hello to him again. We shared a look before I got in the taxi, his so hopeful and mine filled with regret. I’d treated him terribly these last few months and yet it hadn’t stopped him from trying to save me.

Suddenly my sister’s door flew open and there she was.

Beautiful and fresh-faced, Andie was standing upright and she looked healthy. Her expression, however, was blank. “Were you planning on knocking or are you holding out for a career as a porch ornament?”

Feeling breathless, I whispered, “Funny.”

Andie stood back from the doorway and made a gesture for me to come inside. “You’re only seven months late.”

I flinched but somehow managed to meet her eyes as I stepped inside her home for the first time since her accident. She shut the door and I waited for her to make the next move. The fact that I felt like a complete stranger in her house made me even more nauseated than before. Panic held me to the spot.

Andie eyed me for a second. Whatever she saw made the flatness in her eyes disappear. Concern shone through. “Don’t look at me like that,” she said. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out.

After a moment of intense scrutiny, Andie nodded. “I know. Come on.” She walked through her spacious entry hall and into the living room. “Rick’s at work.”

“Probably a good thing,” I muttered.

“Why’s that?” She flopped down into the armchair and I realized my parents’ reports on her recovery were true, and I’d missed all her hard work.

I shrugged as I lowered myself onto her couch. “I’m guessing he’s not too happy with me right now.”

Instead of yay or naying my suspicions, Andie just stared at me.

Forcing the nausea aside and trying to find the me who wouldn’t be intimidated, I kept my gaze steady on hers. “How have you been? How has the recovery been?”

“My recovery has been fine. I missed my own graduation and I was worried for a while that the job I had waiting for me was in jeopardy, but it all worked out.” She shrugged, barely giving me any emotion.

I narrowed my eyes. “Are you just telling me what you’ve been telling everyone else?”

“Well, what do you want to hear, Charley?” She narrowed her eyes right back at me. “That waking up from a fourteen-day coma was petrifying? That I had nightmares for months? That my fiancé worries every time I step outside the door? That I’ve developed a fear of yellow cabs? That I had to be emotionally and mentally evaluated and cleared before they’d let me start work? That all of this pales in comparison to the fact that nine months ago, my little sister stopped talking to me and I feel like I’ve been missing an arm ever since?”

I held her stare and let her anger and hurt flood into me like a tsunami. She deserved the chance to let me have it and I believed I deserved to take it.

“So are you going to say anything ever again?” Andie asked patiently. She glanced at the clock on the mantel above her fireplace. “It’s been ten minutes.”

I eased back against her sofa. “I’m trying to put the right words together to apologize but I can’t. There are no right words. I’m sorry we argued. I’m sorry I chose Jake over you. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you for weeks. And I am beyond sorry that I couldn’t get unstuck from the quagmire I’ve found myself in since Jake… and everything… I’m sorry I didn’t get unstuck and brave and face you. I’m sorry I didn’t help you get through this.”

Andie placed coffee on the table in front of me before sitting back down on the armchair, her own mug clasped in her hands. She curled her feet underneath her and took a sip.

I waited for her to say something.

I’d been waiting for twenty minutes.

“Are you going to say anything now?”

She cocked her head to the side to study me. “What would you like me to say?”

“I don’t know. Anything.”

“You’re lying.”

I almost rolled my eyes. She was using her therapist voice. I refrained and nodded. “Okay, I admit it. I want you to forgive me.”

Time seemed to move slowly as I waited for Andie’s reply. She made me wait while she sipped her coffee until there was nothing left to sip. I waited while she leaned forward to place her empty mug on the table before slowly sitting back.

“Does this lengthy silence mean it’s irreparable?”

Andie’s expression turned curious at the question. “What’s irreparable?”

“The damage I’ve done to this family.”

She was silent so long, I feared we were about to sit through another twenty minutes of torturous quiet, but then her expression turned pained. “I knew it. I hoped I was wrong, but I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“That the reason it’s taken you this long to turn up on my doorstep is because you’ve taken on the blame for this whole thing.”

Shocked, I said, “Don’t you blame me for this whole thing?”

Instead of answering my question, Andie leaned forward. “Is it true you took the LSATs? That you’re going to law school?”

I wasn’t there to discuss my future career. I was there to mend our relationship. “Andie—”