CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Rory
I quit my job.
I quit my job.
I. Quit. My. Job.
Well, sort of. I guess you could say I half quit.
No, I fully quit, but Logan convinced me to stay on part-time for the rest of the season so I can train Hannah, the intern.
Did I really just do that?
Bloody hell.
God, I’m even thinking like Breck, Aussie accent and all.
My feet carry me down the hallway toward my office and away from Logan’s. I went in there ready to turn in my two weeks’ notice. I want to take my photography full-time and with the trajectory of what Breck and I started, my schedule is already filling up. In the end, I’m glad Logan offered the option of staying on temporarily. This way I won’t have to dip into my savings to stay afloat.
I think I was more worried to see the disappointment on his face when I told him I was leaving. Though, when he asked for the reason behind my decision, he was more than excited for me. He even offered to help in any way he could and said he’d be happy to reach out to some of his marketing contacts.
Four years of working for him and he’s been a more supportive male figure than my own father. Here I am, a girl whose parents built their own business from the ground up but refused to help me chase my dream. Not that I asked. Why would I with their blatant disapproval for the whole idea?
I sit in my office chair and spin, pulling my legs up and letting my head fall back. I haven’t seen them since the bar a week ago, but the tension has shifted—slightly. Mom texted me yesterday to ask me to join them for Sunday night dinner. I declined, offering the honest reason of having an elopement shoot and needing to pack. Really, it’s more that I’m not ready to open myself up to them.
I stop my spinning, bring my hands to my desk, and look around my office.
Noting the time, I stand. Jamie will be at the condo soon. Our condo . I’ve been there alone for the last two days and nothing about it feels right anymore. I’m ready to get out of there.
Without Willow’s giggles, Breck’s boisterous laugh, the sounds of Bluey , the smell of Breck’s freshly brewed coffee… It feels like there’s no life there. It’s like the three of us were playing house for the last month and the bubble of imaginative bliss popped the second he walked away in the airport.
I haven’t stopped missing him.
A little piece of my heart went with him that day, and I don’t think I’ll ever get it back. I’ll never regret it though. I gained so much of myself just by knowing him. By having him here. I’m not a different person. I’m just a better version of the woman I was. One who stands up for herself, goes after her dreams and what she wants.
And I can understand that chasing a man to Australia wouldn’t have been what was best for her .
And it was never even a question for Breck. He had to choose the life that was best for him and Willow, and uprooting them for a fling from Tahoe wasn’t it.
Fling .
No, we weren’t that. As much as we said it was only physical, friends with benefits, whatever , there was more to it. There is more. Unfortunately, sometimes life gives you something incredible, but it’s only meant for a season. Meant for a space in time.
That was us. A perfect alignment of the stars so we could be friends, lovers, partners… more. For a time.
I can accept that.
Or, I will. Eventually. Right now, it hurts more than I’ll ever admit out loud. I miss him. I miss Willow. I miss all of it.
He’s putting on a pretty good front, but I think he misses me too. We’ve only FaceTimed once since he left, mostly to let me know they’d made it home. Willow was adamant she wanted to get on another plane and come back, and Breck looked so tired I could see the tension in him that had all but disappeared these last few months. With Willow there, I didn’t ask how he’s really doing. I can only imagine it’s not great being back in the house he shared with Talia.
We’ve texted some, but it’s mostly been about business stuff: the shoot I had yesterday, the condo, and my move to the new place. It’s very surface-level from both sides, and I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.
I think he’s keeping it friendly, focusing on safe topics so we can move beyond whatever those last moments in the terminal were. I can still hear Willow’s whispered “we love you,” still feel the ache in my heart. What I told her in return was true: I love them too.
That’s the hard thing about loving someone. You want the best for them even if it means letting them go.
I walk up the steps of the building that will no longer be my home in mere minutes.
The sight of my suitcases at the door sparks a reckless feeling in me. How easy it would be to take these bags straight to the airport and be in Sydney tomorrow.
But I have a life I’m building here. I owe it to myself to give myself this chance to do what I’ve always wanted.
My phone vibrates in my pocket and I find Breck’s name on the screen. A sad smile lifts my lips. It’s like he knows I’m about to leave this space that was ours.
Breck
Big day!
He doesn’t know how big, as I didn’t tell him about my plan to quit at the resort. That was a decision I wanted to make a hundred percent on my own.
Breck
I hope the move goes smoothly.
Wish we could be there.
The dots pop up and disappear, pop up and disappear.
Breck
Wish I could be there.
My eyes prick with tears.
Me
Me too.
I write and delete “I miss you” at least five times, then chicken out, going for the less vulnerable option.
Me
Tell Willow I miss her.
Breck
She misses you too.
The first tears spill over and I press a hand over my mouth to stifle the sob that wants so badly to escape. The door behind me opens and Jamie envelops me in a hug, holding me as I cry into his shoulder.
“Shhh, m’eudail, shhh.” His slight Scottish accent wraps around the Gaelic endearment and I melt into him farther.
I cling to his sweater with my fists and let myself—finally—experience all the feelings.
“I miss them.”
“I know you do. So do I.”
“But—” I start, but Jamie interrupts me.
“I know it’s not the same.” He pulls back and his thumbs swipe the tears from my cheeks. He looks right into my eyes. “You promised me I wasn’t going to be picking up broken pieces of you. Am I going to have to fly to Australia and kick some ass?”
“I’m not broken.” I hiccup. “I’m more whole than I’ve been in a long time.” I choke out a sob. “It’s just… a piece of me went to Sydney with him, and I’ll never get it back. That hole feels really empty, but everything else feels so full, so I don’t know what to do with that.”
“You take it one day at a time.” His arms come around me again and he kisses the top of my head. “For what it’s worth, I’m so proud of you, Rory. Now, let’s get you out of here and into your own place, shall we?”
We load my stuff into my car and head down the mountain. I was so busy with Breck and Willow last week, and then with the elopement and packing this weekend, to make it down to see the apartment. My new landlords sent me pictures, but I’m anxious to actually experience it in person.
When we pull up to my new home, I take a deep breath and step out, looking up to the mountains I used to live on. This change will be good.
We’re parked in front of a large garage, attached to an even larger home. One of the bays will be mine—a first for me—and I let myself feel hopeful. Our shoes crunch on gravel until we reach a staircase that leads to a separate unit.
The wooden stairs creak on our ascent, laden down with large suitcases. I enter the code into the keypad and the door swings open with a squeak. I nearly melt as I take in the cutest space I’ve ever seen. It came furnished, though they said I could decorate however I want. For now, this is perfect. It’s even better than the pictures.
My parents’ condo was clean and modern, but I prefer something warmer, comfier.
There’s a plaid blanket hanging over the back of a buttery-soft brown leather couch sitting in front of a gas fireplace with a TV mounted above it. The worn oak coffee table looks like it’s been the setting for many a card game or movie night, with water rings stained into the wood right next to the coasters that never got used. The small dining table sits opposite a quaint kitchen, and it’s more than enough space for me to set up my laptop. The kitchen is rustic with an assortment of mismatched mugs sitting by a coffee maker, and I can’t wait to add my own eclectic collection to them.
The coffee maker isn’t as fancy as the one in the last condo, but I’ve resigned myself to the fact that Breck had a magic touch with which he ruined me.
That magic touch definitely extended to more than the…
Nope, not going there right now. My cheeks heat as I follow after Jamie, finding him in the bedroom.
Jamie plants himself on the bed. It’s draped with a dark green comforter and is nestled between rustic side tables that complement the cream walls and dark wood bed frame.
“Nice bounce to this mattress.” He smirks and raises an eyebrow.
“Oh my god, stop. Get off my bed.” I laugh, pushing at his shoulder. “Of course that’s what you’d check first.”
“What?” He scoffs with mock offense. “A good mattress is important—for a lot of reasons. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
I bend over laughing even harder now. I love this man. I wonder if there will ever be a woman who will tangle herself deep enough into his heart to keep him. One can only hope. He deserves that.
“Let’s check out the bathroom,” I say.
He whistles when he walks in behind me, bracing his hands on the doorframe, and it’s clear why. The large glassed-in shower has not one, not two, but three shower heads. One on each side of a rainfall shower head in the middle. The rest of the bathroom is pretty standard, but I think I want to live in that shower.
“Yup, it’s settled, I’m moving in too,” Jamie jokes before he heads back out to the living room.
“I don’t think this place is big enough for the both of us.”
He laughs. “Okay, now say that while standing with your hands on your hips like you’re challenging me to a shootout.”
He assumes the position and playacts pulling two imaginary revolvers from his holsters.
“You’re a loon. You know that?”
“I do. Now let’s grab your boxes out of my car so we can go get some dinner. We need to celebrate!”