Persist and resist the temptation to ask you, if one thing had been different
Simone is sitting on my silk bed sheets, with our family dog in her arms. It’s like how it used to be.
Her face is focused on Duke, our little german shepard. “Snow.” She looks up at me and sighs, “Yeah?” “Why are you here?”
She looks away from me, and at my vintage wallpaper, “I’m...I’m sorry f-for what happened at the library-“ “No Snow, I should apologize to you. I was an ass.”
“No,” she frowns, “Let me say sorry for this and everything else. I’ve been such a bitch to you and I’m sorry.”
I clench my jaw and look down at my hands, “I broke up with Lamb.” I hear her take a sharp breath, “What?”
“I broke up with him today...for the obvious reasons.” “Him being a dick?” “That too.” She laughs and I smile.
“My mom kicked Davy out of the house.” I jerk my head up to look at her, “Really?” She has a soft smile on her face, “Yeah. It’s so much better now, Basil...it’s like- like umh...”
“When flowers bloom after winter?” “Yeah,” she nods, beaming at me. Her face goes soft and she looks me in the eyes —something she never does, “I’m sorry, really Basil. I should’ve told you...how I felt back then.”
She takes a deep breath, “And I...I want you know that-“ “It’s okay,” I say, “We’re past that now.” Her eyes flick down and she nods, “Yeah.”
I hear my phone buzz a bunch of times, and I ignore it. I turn to Simone and she smiles softly at me, “So does this mean we’re friends again, Basil?”
I look into Simone’s eyes and think about all the days I cried over her. All the times I had to remind myself that she didn’t want me.
Expect now, when I stare into her plain blue eyes, all of that doesn’t matter.
“Yes.”