Chapter Twenty-One
Ashley
I made it through finals, although I wasn’t exactly sure how.
Ever since crying after getting Sloane’s flowers, and again when I got home from lunch with my mom and there was a present from him waiting for me, I’d felt run down. Even his gift—a Keurig coffee maker with a ninety-six-count box of K cups—couldn’t perk me up.
I’d almost missed the typed note on the invoice that said, “I hope this helps with your morning routine (and also starts your day thinking of me). I’ll see you soon.”
I hadn’t bothered unboxing the machine, instead, I put it back in the unnecessarily bigger packaging it had been shipped in, put my pajamas on, and slipped into bed. I’d even begged off my birthday dinner with Tammy in favor of staying under the covers.
I knew I was depressed because all I wanted to do was sleep. But I made sure to write to Sloane every evening when I got home, even on the nights I could barely keep my eyes open.
The roses and lilies were dead and looked out of place among my Christmas decorations, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away. Not yet.
Not until I heard from him again.
What’s the saying? Be careful what you wish for?