Chapter 2
two
ELLIE
Meanwhile, 2,801 miles away in Brooklyn, New York.
“ Ellie, cupcake, let’s just work this out.”
I stuff my suitcase in the backseat of my deep green Volkswagen Beetle, then take off my yellow cross-bag to throw in the car. My braid snags in the strap, and my frustration starts to reach its peak.
As if I’m not already at my limit.
The sticky morning air clings to my skin now that summer is here. Stray bits of hair from my braid glue to my neck as I push some of my chestnut-colored hair behind my ear.
I turn to Charlie—my now ex-boyfriend —planting my hands on my hips. My stance says it all–I’m done, and he knows it. At five-foot-two, I might need to tilt my head to meet his eyes, but my glare could melt ice.
“There’s nothing to work out, Charlie,” I say with an aggravated sigh.
“Look, I know what I did was fucked up, okay?” Charlie says, dragging a hand through his blond hair. “She didn’t mean anything to me.”
I look at the man I love—or thought I loved—the man I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with. His golden hazel eyes stare into my icy blues as he pleads for me to stay.
“She didn't mean anything to you? You were talking to her for months , Charlie. In comparison, I was breaking my back at work. You weren’t there for me. You were there for someone else,” I snap back.
Charlie wraps his hands around the back of his neck, tugging it in frustration. It’s a telltale sign that he knows he’s fucked up and is scrambling for what to say.
Before I let him say another word, I turn my back to him and shove my giant suitcase in the backseat. I didn’t pack for a quick trip. I packed everything I owned, ready to leave him and this place behind, at least for now, until I need to go back to work. I successfully get it tucked away and slam the door shut, using everything in my reach to further prove my point.
“You did this to yourself, Charlie. Not me.” I point my finger at him.
“I know, and I fucked up. I’m admitting that.” Charlie raises his voice, his eyes drifting to some of the early commuters who are on their way to work. He takes a deep breath as he attempts to gather himself and calm down.
His gaze tracks back to me, another attempt to reason with me, but I’m done.
My chest feels heavy, almost unbearably so. I force myself to push down the lump in my throat and the emotions wanting to tumble out of me. But he will not get a single tear from me. At least not while I’m standing in front of him.
“I’m an asshole, and I’m selfish,” he begins, an edge I don’t recognize in his voice. “You were constantly at work, giving that all your attention while I was home alone. You were never like that when we met each other and then started dating. You’re the one that’s changed.”
I rear my head back, startled.
Have I changed?
Of course, people change. I’m not the same person I was when I met him almost six years ago. A lot has changed since I started culinary school and then started working at one of the most well-known restaurants in the country.
I’m not the carefree, happy-go-lucky person I used to be. The thought of baking outside of work feels like a chore now. I’m too drained to even pick up a whisk. I can’t remember the last time I took a real vacation. My life’s been consumed by the kitchen.
I wish I could bake a triple chocolate chip cookie. Simple, but still delicious. Unfortunately, when you work at a high-end restaurant, people don’t come for that.
“Why didn’t you try to talk to me?” I ask in defeat.
“I saw what you were going through, what you were dealing with at work. I didn’t want to put my problems on top of that.”
“So, you go on a dating app? Instead of, I don’t know, going to a therapist?” I narrow my eyes at him so hard I want red beams to shoot out and obliterate him.
“I just needed to talk to someone.”
“Talk to your parents! Your friends!” I shout. “The dog that sits on the stoop of our building! Talking to someone doesn’t mean putting your dick in them. Unless your dick talks? Were you holding out on me?”
“Ellie, I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times you need me to say it to you to forgive me and come back upstairs.” He gestures toward our building with a wave of his hand.
I throw my hands up, fed up with the endless back-and-forth. This is going nowhere, and I need to leave before I say something I’ll regret–even if he deserves every bit of it.
“So, you’re really going to go home for the entire summer? Just up and leave and not even try to fix things with us?” Charlie pauses and stares at me. “Will you at least not call this off between us? Our relationship. Our friendship. Please. I love you so much, Ellie.”
I cross my arms and glare at him. The audacity of this man to tell me he loves me after he confessed last night that his talking dick was in someone else.
“As of right now, Charlie, we aren’t together. Okay? It’s time you figure your shit out, and I’ll figure out mine.”
I watch his throat bob while his eyes are stuck on me. I need space to figure out my next steps–If I can forgive him after this summer and start over. A whole summer away from this city, from my job, is exactly what I need to clear my head.
I open the car door and slip inside, not bothering to say goodbye or even glance at him. Because if I do, I’ll lose the courage I have right now to walk away.