Chapter 55
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Maren
“This isn’t the same as what happened with Kollin.” Bianca reaches for my hand. “It’s not, Maren.”
When she texted me this morning to find out how dinner went last night, I sent her a simple reply: I need you.
She rushed over here.
She didn’t time her arrival, but it happened minutes after Arietta left to take Dudley to doggy daycare on her way to work.
Arietta is the one who sat by my side last night. She could tell something was wrong when I was sitting on the couch in my sweatpants crying when she got home from work.
I have no idea what went so wrong.
When I got to Keats’s townhouse after meeting with Royce, he wasn’t home.
I banged on the door to try and rouse him because I thought he might have drifted off.
Neither of us has gotten much sleep recently.
When he didn’t answer, I called him.
I left a message and then another.
I finally left the steps of his townhouse with one last look at the locked door.
On my way home, the caterer I had hired called to confirm that the event was canceled.
Athena sent me a text thanking Keats and me for donating the bouquet to one of the nursing homes in the city. She noted that she was breaking it up into smaller bouquets so everyone would have a bit of sunshine to brighten their day.
Keats canceled our dinner with the Newmans without a word to me.
Arietta assured me that it was likely because Fletcher chose Finn over him.
That might be true, but why would Keats not tell me that? Why is he still avoiding me?
I glance down at the only text he sent to me.
Keats: I need time.
I turn my phone’s screen to show Bianca the text message.
Her eyes close. “Fuck.”
My eyes tear. “It’s the same.”
“No,” she insists. “This is not the same.”
It’s close enough.
“I need to go away.”
My instinct to hide from the world kicked in almost immediately. I’ve learned that pain follows you everywhere you go, but it’s easier to deal with when you’re not in the same city as the person who broke your heart.
“I’ll go with you,” she offers. “I can rent a car. I remember how to get there.”
Bianca put her life on hold to go to the Adirondack Mountains with me just days after Kollin dumped me. We stayed at my parents’ remote cabin near Tupper Lake. We hiked, we fished, we swam in the water, and I healed.
“I want to go alone.”
Her head shakes. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Maren. If you want my advice, I think you should talk to Keats first. How do you know this isn’t how he processes losing a potential client? Maybe he’s sulking.”
Maybe he’s a cold-hearted jerk.
“I need to go away.” I shake my head. “I have a lot to think about.”
She knows that I met with Royce, but I didn’t tell her that he offered me the opportunity of a lifetime. It reaches beyond the promotion I wanted.
I explained to him that I needed to talk to my boyfriend because the decision would impact both of us.
Us.
There is no us.
She moves closer. She tugs locks of my hair out from under the neckline of the hoodie I’m wearing. “Promise me you’ll be careful. Don’t swim alone, and when you go to town, you’ll call me?”
I nod.
“I’ll help you pack.”
I turn to her. “Dudley needs to go back to Keats. I don’t think Arietta will give him up.”
She wraps her arm around my shoulder. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of it all.”
I know she will. She did the last time I was left with nothing but empty words and a broken heart.
Charming is the word my dad uses to describe our family cabin. My mom’s positive spin on it is that it’s quaint.
I love it because it’s remote.
The cabin consists of six-hundred feet of cramped space, including one bedroom, a bathroom, a small kitchen, and three plastic chairs next to a round table.
There’s no television here. WiFi and cell service don’t exist in this part of the state.
This is the place my parents always brought me when they needed an escape from the demands of New York City.
I drop my bag and the keys from the rental car on the table.
I look around at the dusty interior of the cabin.
Pressing the light switch, I gaze up at the strings of small white lights my dad hung up years ago. It was magical to me then, and it still is.
This place is nothing like my apartment in Manhattan, but I love it here. I need to be here.
I drop onto the old blue and green checkered sofa that doubles as a pullout bed.
Circling my arms around my chest, I sob.
I cry for what I’ve lost in the past and for what I’ve lost now.
I thought I had a chance at real happiness, but maybe that’s not how my story is supposed to end.