Page 50 of True Abandon

My attention drops to the green, palm-leaf designs embroidered on the placemat beneath my cup. The events of the day roam my mind as my finger traces the scalloped edge of the fabric, but Auli’i’s stare unnerves me until I return her gaze.

I give in. “I’m confused. Someone from my past re-entered my life yesterday, and it caught me off guard.”

“An old love.” It’s not a question.

I nod. Unwilling to witness her response, I focus on the amber liquid in the mug—my fingers dance around the ceramic to avoid burning my hands keeping them in one place too long.

She places her folded hands onto her lap. “He must have wronged you a great deal to cause so much confusion.”

I bite my lower lip. “Yes, very much so.” A multitude of emotions runs rampant through me—confusion likely the strongest at the moment.

“When I see him, I see this great guy who tried to make everyone around him comfortable, even when they were at their most vulnerable. He can be an attentive listener or talk to a fly on the wall. He’s awkwardly funny and will never say no to a challenge.”

I touch my mouth to find it curved up in a smile. The feel of my lips spread wide makes my forehead pinch.

“I also see this terrible person who disregards privacy and leaves a loved one alone with a burden. It’s forced me to do terrible things I’m not proud of today. Yet, if you ask me if I’d do it again, I’d probably say yes. There’s something wrong with me.”

Her eyes travel to my fidgeting fingers steadily tapping the mug, and then down to my leg gently shaking beneath the table, and the deep lines of her face become more defined.

“Ho’oponopono.”

My hand and leg stop moving. “What?”

“It means ‘to make right.’ You need to correct the wrong that has happened in this man’s life.”

I hold up a hand and correct her. “No. It’s not so simple. He hurt me, not the other way around. And it was horrible.”

She takes my hand in hers and lowers it to the table. The smooth, but weathered skin of her palm holds tightly to mine. I stare at our connection and then into her charcoal gaze.

“When you want to move on. You do,” she says.

I lean back in my chair. I want to explain to her what Jax did, but that would mean I’d have to confess to having sex as a teenager which would only disappoint her. Her perception of me would be permanently altered by my foolish decision.

“Yes, Auli’i. I’ll work on it.” My smile is courteous even though it’s complete bullshit—I don’t want to forgive Jax.

The older woman sees through my deflection and waves her finger in the air before putting it on the table. “When you forgive others, you forgive yourself.”

I open my mouth to argue but stop short.

She continues, “Repentance, forgiveness, gratitude, and love.” Her stare remains firm on mine as she repeats the words. “Repentance, forgiveness, gratitude, and love. When you forgive others, you forgive yourself.”

Her hand reaches up to her chest and clenches her heart. “You need to restore your own harmony. If you heal yourself, you can heal the world.”

“Some people aren’t worthy of forgiveness.”

“You are so young, Trish. Why do you hold onto this burden of pain?”

My body feels heavy. A slow, simmering grief crawls up my legs and swirls into my torso. I know it’s all in my head, but the gravity of her words renders me immobile.

“I’ve felt this way for a third of my life. I don’t know how to exist without it.” The confession brings me a hint of levity.

Her hand returns to mine, and with a gentle squeeze, she responds, “He has wandered back into your life for a reason. Let him atone for his sins so you can forgive and move on.”

I cross my arms in defiance and look away. “I fear I’ll never be able to.”

“Forgive?”

“Move on.” I wipe a tear from my cheek and inhale a shaky breath.