Chapter 14 #2
We migrate to the couch with our wine glasses. Mia senses my distress immediately, abandoning her bed to press against my legs. I run my fingers through her soft fur, grateful for her solid warmth anchoring me.
“Did he actually say he was accepting the job?” Sara asks, tucking her feet beneath her. The lamp behind her creates a halo in her blonde hair.
I shake my head. “No, but—”
“So you don’t actually know his answer,” she points out gently.
Harper snorts into her wine. “Please. Three hundred thousand dollars or our struggling small town? That’s not exactly a difficult choice.”
“Not everyone prioritizes the biggest paycheck,” Sara counters. “Maybe he’s changed. Maybe he values different things now than he did at twenty-one.”
I stare down at my wine glass, watching light refract through the burgundy liquid. Five years ago, I genuinely believed he’d choose me. That I was enough. That what we had mattered more than anything Seattle could offer. I was catastrophically wrong then—so why would I be right this time?
“Even if he stays now,” Harper says, her voice softer but still skeptical, “what happens next time someone dangles a bigger opportunity? People don’t fundamentally change, Soph.”
“Some do,” Sara insists. “Sometimes it takes losing something irreplaceable to understand what actually matters.”
They continue debating, their voices washing over me like waves.
Harper’s protective fury crashing against Sara’s optimistic hope.
I stop listening and just stroke Mia’s fur, over and over.
Outside the window, twilight deepens to true darkness.
Stars emerge one by one. The same stars I watched five years ago when he left.
The same stars that’ll keep burning regardless of what happens tomorrow.
“Sophie?” Sara’s voice cuts through my fog. “What do you actually want? Not what you think will happen, but what do you want?”
What do I want? I want to stop caring. I want to be over him. I want his boss’s offer to mean nothing to me. I want to travel back five years and somehow not fall so completely that it still hurts this much now.
I stand abruptly, making Mia’s head pop up in surprise. “I need air.” I grab Mia’s leash from the hook by the door. “Don’t wait up for me.”
“Soph, it’s dark out there,” Harper protests, worry replacing anger.
“I have my phone.” I clip Mia’s leash on without meeting their eyes. “We won’t go far.”
But I do go far. All the way to Cliffside Trail where the path runs along the cliff edge above the churning ocean. It’s darker than I anticipated, the moon hiding behind thick clouds. I use my phone’s flashlight to navigate, illuminating patches of damp grass and tree roots.
The wind whips my hair across my face and carries the scent of salt and seaweed from far below.
Waves crash against rocks in that steady, eternal rhythm.
Mia walks beside me, her nails clicking on rocky sections of the trail.
She stays close like she senses my fragile state, looking up at me now and then.
We reach the bench—our bench, the old weathered wood where Zayn and I used to sit for hours talking about everything and nothing. I sink onto it, feeling the cold seep through my jeans. Mia settles at my feet with a contented sigh, warming my ankles.
In the darkness, I can’t tell where the black ocean ends and the night sky begins. Just endless darkness punctuated by white foam where waves break against rocks. My chest feels equally vast and hollow.
I reach out to touch the roses Zayn planted. Putting down roots, he’d written on that card. What a joke. The petals feel like velvet under my fingertips, impossibly soft.
I pluck one petal free and roll it between my thumb and finger. It releases a sweet, clean fragrance even as it begins to bruise.
“I was never enough to make him stay,” I whisper to the darkness, but the crashing waves nearly swallow my words. The truth I’ve been desperately avoiding slams into me all at once, and tears spill hot down my cold cheeks. “I wasn’t enough then. I’m not enough now. I’ll never be enough.”
Mia whines softly and rests her heavy head on my knee. Her eyes catch fragments of starlight as she looks up at me with unconditional love. She’s always here. She’d never abandon me, no matter what better options appeared.
I swipe at my tears with the back of my hand. Breathe in the salt air. The rose petal is still clutched in my fingers, leaving its perfume on my skin like a ghost. I inhale deeply, then exhale slowly, trying to release the crushing weight from my chest.
I should go home. It’s late and these cliffs are dangerously in full daylight, let alone darkness. But I linger a moment longer, staring up at the stars. Out there, life continues. Lights flicker on in distant cities. People make choices. The world doesn’t pause just because my heart is breaking.
The scent of roses follows me as I finally stand to leave. They remind me of promises that dissolved like morning fog. Of hope that might bloom or might wither. Of a love that keeps growing stubbornly in my chest even when I desperately wish it wouldn’t.