44
“Shit, Tessa! He almost booked a flight to LA.” I press the phone against my ear as I pack the last of my things into boxes that are already stacked by the door.
“Oh, that would be so bad,” Tessa says. “So bad! You’re starting the drive tonight, right?”
“Yes. I should be there on Friday. Is this like the worst idea ever? I mean, now I don’t know if surprising him is a good idea. He hasn’t texted me back, so I think I might’ve pissed him off.”
“You sound just like him with your anxiety. It’s fine. Don’t overthink it. Stick to the plan. I cleaned your entire house today, so you can’t back out now. It’s going to be the best surprise.”
I look at my empty apartment and sigh. “I feel so bad. I feel like I should just tell him I’m coming.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That I wouldn’t be in town so don’t book the flight down here to see me because I won’t be here.”
“Perfect. You’re not going to be.”
She’s right. By the time his potential flight would have landed, I’ll be somewhere in Seattle with everything I own hitched to the back of a U-Haul.
The moving truck is parked outside my building, my Honda Civic hooked up behind it like a loyal pet following its owner to a new life. I’ve never driven anything bigger than my car, and the sight of the orange and white behemoth makes my stomach flip.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I say, taping up the final box.
“I can’t believe you waited this long to do this.”
“What if he changed his mind about wanting me there permanently? What if I’m being presumptuous?”
“Liv, the man has been miserable for weeks. He bought plants because they reminded him of you. Plants that he immediately killed because he doesn’t know how to take care of anything green.”
“He told you about the plants?”
“He told me about the plants. He’s been calling me every few days asking if I think you’re happy, if I think you miss him, if I think this long-distance thing is sustainable.”
“What do you tell him?”
“I tell him to ask you himself. But also that you’re just as miserable as he is.”
“I’m not that miserable. I have my new job that’s keeping me really busy.”
“You’ve been sleeping in his shirt every night and crying at dog videos on Instagram. That’s miserable.”
She’s not wrong.
“What did your parents say when you said bye to them today?” she asks.
“My mom just hugged me and said she was happy for me. My dad did, too. He said they don’t need me around.”
“Ouch,” she replies.
I half laugh. “Yeah.”
“But that’s it, huh? No tears?”
I shake my head. “No, so I guess all of it was in my head.”
“I’m sure they’ll miss you, Liv. It’s okay. I’ll cry when you say goodbye.”
I laugh. “I need to get the last few things squared away, and then I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay.”
An hour later, I’m standing in Tessa’s driveway, keys to the U-Haul in one hand and my overnight bag in the other.
“I’m scared,” I admit as she pulls me into a hug.
“Anything worth doing is scary.”
Charlie comes running out of the house, her hair in pigtails, wearing a princess dress and rain boots.
“Auntie Liv!” she says, and my heart strings pull at the sight of her.
Tessa smiles down at us. I can’t believe myself but I’m actually crying when she hugs me. I pull her back and laugh through the tears. “I’m going to miss you so much, Charlie.”
“Where are you going?” Charlie asks.
“Charlie, honey, Auntie is going to live with Uncle West and hopefully make you some cousins soon.”
I shoot a look at her, and she winks at me.
Charlie starts jumping up and down. “I want cousins!”
“You have to come visit me, okay?”
Charlie nods as I wipe my tears. Tessa says, “We’ll bribe Uncle West into paying for the flights.”
I laugh, reaching for my best friend.
“Don’t forget about me,” she mumbles over my shoulder. “When you’re busy banging my brother, remember who had you first.”
I laugh, pulling away. We both have tears in our eyes.
“We’re going to miss you down here. Visit when you can.”
I nod, touching Charlie’s pigtails. “I promise I will. The kids grow too fast.”
David appears with Emma on his hip, and she immediately reaches for me with chubby arms.
“Liv Liv!” she babbles, which is about as close as she gets to my actual name.
I take her and kiss her cheek, breathing in that perfect baby smell that makes my ovaries do stupid things.
“Be good for Mama and Daddy, okay?”
“She’s always good,” David says. “Unlike this one.” He ruffles Charlie’s hair. “Charlie, what do we say when someone we love goes on a big adventure?”
“Good luck and come back soon!”
“That’s right.”
“Good luck, Auntie Liv! Come back soon!”
“I will, baby. I promise.”
After another round of hugs and promises to call when I get there safely, I climb into the U-Haul and stare at the dashboard that looks nothing like my car’s.
The mirrors show me a view of my entire life packed into a truck, my car trailing behind like an afterthought.
This is insane.
I’m driving a moving truck seventeen hours to surprise a man I’ve been officially dating for a few weeks now.
I’m quitting my life in LA to move to Seattle for a hockey player who I’ve been obsessed with for a very long time.
I’m making the kind of romantic gesture that either ends in happily ever after or complete disaster.
But as I pull out of Tessa’s driveway and head toward the freeway, I can’t bring myself to turn around.
Because staying in LA and continuing this long-distance torture, pretending I don’t want to build a life with West feels worse than any potential rejection.
The first few hours are the hardest. LA traffic is brutal even at night, and I white-knuckle the steering wheel through downtown, terrified I’m going to side-swipe someone or forget about my car trailing behind me.
But once I hit the open highway, something settles in my chest.
I-5 North stretches ahead of me, empty and dark except for the occasional truck or late-night traveler. The radio plays soft rock from the ‘80s, and I sing along to songs I haven’t heard in years.
My phone sits in the passenger seat, silent. West hasn’t texted me back since I told him not to come to LA. Part of me wants to call him, to hear his voice and make sure he’s not actually mad at me for shutting down his romantic gesture.
But the bigger part of me wants to preserve the surprise. Wants to see the look on his face when I show up at his door with everything I own.
I stop at a motel outside Sacramento around 2 AM, exhausted from the stress of driving something I’m not qualified to drive and the emotional weight of what I’m doing.
The room is generic but clean, and I lie in the too-soft bed staring at the ceiling and wondering if I’ve lost my mind.
Tomorrow I’ll drive the rest of the way to Seattle. Tomorrow I’ll show up at West’s house and either get the romantic movie moment I’ve been dreaming about, or I’ll get the awkward conversation where he explains that moving in together wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.
Tomorrow everything changes.
But tonight, I’m somewhere between my old life and my new one, and for the first time in weeks, that feels exactly right.
I wake up before sunrise, grab terrible coffee and a stale muffin from the motel lobby, and get back on the road.
I stop for gas in North Sacramento, then again outside Mt. Shasta, each fill-up bringing me closer to the moment when I’ll have to explain why I drove seventeen hours without telling him.
By the time I hit Oregon, my back aches and my hands are cramped from gripping the steering wheel, but I’m too wired to stop for more than bathroom breaks and gas.
This is it. This is me choosing him, choosing us, choosing the possibility of something real and permanent and scary.
This is me driving toward the rest of my life.
The miles tick by—Grants Pass, Eugene, Salem, countless small towns I’ve never heard of. The landscape changes from California brown to Oregon green, and then suddenly I’m crossing into Washington and the evergreens are so thick I can barely see the sky.
My phone shows 2:47 PM when I finally see the sign for Seattle. It’s only fifty more miles.
Fifty miles between me and West.
Fifty miles between me and the biggest risk I’ve ever taken.
Fifty miles between me and home.
I press the gas pedal a little harder and keep driving north .