Chapter 37
AUDREY
The word heartbroken wasn’t enough to describe the pain that greeted me every morning—the ache that invaded my dreams at night.
I couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t even pretend to be okay.
I missed and hated Taylor at the same time.
How could he hide that from me?
I slipped out of my car and into the rain, racing up the front steps of my Aunt Lydia’s brownstone.
“Audrey?” She answered the door in a pink cow-print bathrobe that barely concealed white lace lingerie. “What are you doing here?”
“I called you and told you I needed a place to crash for a while.”
“I thought you were joking!”
“I said it was an emergency.” I shook my head. “I only need to stay here for a few days.”
“Days?” She looked alarmed.
“Until the bank opens on Monday and I can get the keys to my parents’ rental cabin from the security box.”
“Oh…” She tapped her lip. “Well, no need to wait for the bank at all. Stay right there.”
She rushed inside and shut the door, leaving me in the rain.
Brown eyes peeked from the left window. Then hazel ones joined.
What the hell is she doing in there?
When she opened the door again, she thrust a keychain and a binder into my hands.
“It hasn’t had a renter in the past three months,” she said. “I paused it because I couldn’t get up there to clean as often, but…” She yanked two keys off and handed them to me. “It should still be really nice.”
“Thank you, Aunt Lydia.” I grabbed them. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom for a second?”
“There’s a Hilton hotel around the corner.” She stepped back. “Call me when you make it to the cabin and I’ll check on you later.”
She slammed the door before I could ask another question.
Sighing, I returned to my rental car and slid behind the wheel. My phone buzzed on the seat—another call from Taylor—but I didn’t have the heart to answer.
I doubt I ever will.
Four hours later, I drove beneath a canopy of pine trees, following a winding road bordered by a glossy green lake.
A large wooden cabin with gleaming gray windows stood at the edge of the clearing, quiet and waiting.
It’d been years since I’d been here, and as much as I wanted to forget it existed, sometimes I caught myself wondering if my parents’ so-called “inspiration” had really just been an escape.
I wonder if my mom and Taylor’s dad came here, too…
Shaking away the thought, I walked up the steps and unlocked the door.
The scent of vanilla and old books hit me the moment I stepped inside.
I wandered from the dining room to the kitchen, running my fingers along the faint layer of dust. A locked door in the back bore a small plaque that read Writer’s Room.
I didn’t have the energy to open it.
Instead, I carried my things inside, unpacked just enough to make it through the weekend, and opened my laptop.
No words came.
I switched tabs and searched Lakefront Nursing School instead, filling in the first lines of my application while the cursor blinked like a heartbeat on pause.
Every hour, Taylor called my phone.
And by midnight, I did what I should’ve done years ago.
I blocked him.