Chapter 8
BECCA
After I’m out of the coffee shop, I practice my deep breathing as I speed-walk through the hospital. Technically, I could go home. Race upstairs and grab my things from my locker, then flee the hospital.
Maybe flee all of Atlanta.
But Theo already told me he parked in the garage, so I might run into him if I head downstairs.
That wouldn’t be the worst thing.
All things considered, we ended our conversation on good terms.
I just need a minute to process. To be alone. To let all these feelings work their way through me, then out again so I can function normally.
Past radiology, there’s a stairwell that almost no one uses.
Except Mia, when she and Dr. Rivera want a minute alone.
It’s narrower, a little darker, and not really close to anything but radiology, so it’s a pretty good bet it’ll be empty.
I head that way, doing my best to seem chill and not like I’m trying to outrun a banshee. Or my past.
Finally, the heavy metal door to the stairwell clicks closed behind me, and I collapse against it, forcing myself to take three steadying breaths.
I’m fine.
Truly.
Our conversation was fine.
I just … maybe didn’t realize what hearing Theo’s apology was going to do to me.
After our breakup, my feelings were so incredibly complicated.
I was angry, but I didn’t feel like I could be angry because I knew how badly he was hurting.
Which meant I did a lot of cycling through a plethora of emotions.
I was angry at Theo and heartbroken over the loss of our relationship, but I was also heartbroken for his loss, devastated that he was going through something so difficult—and that he was insistent on doing it alone.
Of course, he had his brother.
But I still struggled to understand why he didn’t choose me. Which led me to conclude that he didn’t want me. That he didn’t think I was up to the task of supporting him.
But that’s not what he said when he apologized. I didn’t deserve to have anyone love me. Especially someone like you.
Hearing him own that so openly and apologize so sincerely triggered something deep inside me, some emotion I’m not even sure I can name.
I climb the first few steps and sink onto them, wrapping my arms around my body, and suddenly, I’m crying again, silent sobs working through me as tears course down my cheeks.
I don’t know why I’m feeling so much. It was so long ago—practically ancient history. But you wouldn’t know it based on the ache throbbing behind my ribs. It feels like my heart is breaking all over again.
But there’s something different about this cry—something cleansing. Like I’m letting go of a weight I’ve been carrying around for years.
I convinced my brain to forgive Theo a long time ago. But this feels like maybe my heart is ready to forgive him too.
I cry until I’m numb, my face damp and my nose so stuffy, I really hope I don’t have to talk to anyone any time soon. Still, when my phone finally buzzes from my pocket with a text from Mia, I don’t hesitate to tell her where I am.
Mia
Hey! How was it? Are you still at the hospital?
Becca
Still here. In the kissing stairwell.
Mia
K. I’ve got a quick break. Don’t move. I’ll come to you.
Two minutes later, Mia drops onto the step beside me, cheeks flushed and out of breath.
“You made good time,” I say, though time sounds more like tibe, then I let out one of those annoying post-cry hiccups.
“Ohhhh, hey. Are you okay?” She lifts her arms and wraps them around my shoulders.
I sniff and let myself collapse into her arms. “I’m surprisingly good,” I say. “This was…” I motion to my face, which I’m sure is tear-stained and splotchy. “I don’t know what this was.”
“Catharsis?” she suggests, and I manage a smile.
“Something like that.”
“Do you wanna tell me about it?”
It takes surprisingly few words to talk her through Theo’s apology, considering how much of an emotional response it triggered.
And saying everything out loud only helps to put it all in context, to recognize that my big feelings will pass and my life will pretty much go back to exactly what it was before. There’s comfort in that.
“And then I gave him a hug, and I left,” I finish, and Mia blows a breath through her lips.
“Man. That’s some apology,” she says.
“Right? And I’m glad I heard it. I’m really happy we talked. I think it was probably good for both of us.”
“And the crying,” she says gently. “That was good?”
I let out a little chuckle. “I don’t even know where it came from. But yeah. Weirdly, I think it might have helped?”
“Girl, you don’t have to convince me. I love crying.”
“Because you’re a weirdo,” I say.
“Because I’m in touch with my feelings.” She reaches over and squeezes my knee. “I’m proud of you. That’s some serious closure. Does it feel like closure?”
“I think so? Right now, I mostly feel numb. But it probably will tomorrow.”
“So what happens now?” Mia asks. “Will you see him again?”
“I don’t know. He’ll be at the MS Walk next weekend. His whole team will be. But … what would I even say? We pretty much covered everything today.”
She shrugs. “Could you just be friends?”
I think of the moment I slipped my hand into his and asked for that exact thing. Friends. But I don’t know if I can do it. There’s too much history, too much baggage. “I don’t think so,” I say.
“Why not?”
“Because he’s my ex. And he’s also Theo freaking Williamson. You can’t just be friends with a guy like that.”
“So he’s got an unusual job,” she says. “That shouldn’t disqualify him from regular friendships.”
I give my head a little shake. “I don’t understand what’s happening here. Do you want to be friends with Theo?”
“No! That’s not…” She huffs. “I’m just saying maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to stay in touch. Maybe stay open to anything that might happen in the future.”
“Mia, are you suggesting I date him?”
“What?” She lets out a disbelieving scoff that feels a little too intentional. “No! Of course not.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Mia,” I say sternly, and she finally caves.
“Okay, fine. I was possibly maybe a little bit suggesting that you date him. But would that be so bad? Your relationship with Rory is basically over anyway.”
I let out a groan at the mention of Rory. I completely forgot that I have to go see him tonight.
Mia frowns. “Wait. Is it not basically over? Why does it feel like there’s something I don’t know?”
“He’s in Atlanta,” I say.
“Rory?”
I nod. “I’m meeting him tonight.”
“And?” she gently prods.
“And I’m pretty sure we’re breaking up.”
She leans her shoulder against mine. “Geez. What a day.”
I choke out a laugh. “Right?”
She’s quiet for a beat before she says, “I know it might not feel like it, but I really do think it’s a good thing.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “Because my feelings are so muddled right now, I’m not sure I can trust them.”
She shifts on the stairs, turning sideways so she’s facing me. “Becca, do you know how many times I’ve actually seen you cry?”
I frown. “I have no idea. But it’s probably a lot. I cry in movies all the time.”
“You get a tiny bit teary in movies, which isn’t the same thing. I mean really cry. Because of something happening in your own life.”
I tuck my hands between my knees, my eyes locked on the floor. I have a feeling I know where Mia is going, and I don’t like it.
“It’s not a big number, Becca.” She waits, letting the silence stretch between us until I finally lift my gaze to hers. “It’s twice,” she says. “Once the night you first told me about Theo. And then again today. I’m no therapist, but I feel like that probably means something.”
“Sure it does. It means Theo is obviously bad for me.”
“Or,” she says patiently, “it means that for how good you are at keeping your life controlled and safe and wrapped in bubble wrap, he’s the one person who seems to make you feel things that are too big for your rules. And I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.”
I press my lips together, hating how close Mia is to the truth. But she’s got it all wrong. It’s absolutely a bad thing. Theo is the reason I have rules in the first place.
Never give anyone the power to reroute my plans.
Never depend on a person for a future I’m capable of building myself.
Keep my heart as portable as my job.
I learned the hard way that surrendering so much of myself—of my heart—to another person is exactly how to guarantee heartbreak.
I gave Theo everything. My willingness to forgive him doesn’t change the fact that my entire life was derailed because of him.
Everything I planned to do—college, career, scholarships—it all shifted.
And it shouldn’t have been like that. I’m not proud of how broken I was after he ended things.
Or after Carter ended things on his behalf, I guess.
But it was still a valuable lesson. I fell in too deep.
Trusted too much. And it took a lot of time and even a little therapy for me to find my way out of the resulting darkness.
I won’t set myself up for the same kind of failure again.
“It is a bad thing,” I say. “I don’t want to be … consumed.”
She studies me, her face so full of compassion, I might start to cry again.
“You were so young, Becca. But you aren’t anymore.
You’re your own woman now. Strong, independent, capable.
But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to feel real passion in your life.
You deserve a relationship that makes you burn, not this sleepy thing you have with Rory. ”
For a moment, I think of the hug I gave Theo right before I left. His hands slid over my waist, resting in the same spots they always did in high school, tugging me against him with a familiar certainty.
I used to love it when he hugged me like that—like I belonged to him. The thought sends fiery tendrils of heat curling through my belly. Even when we were living on the same side of the country, I never felt anything like that with Rory.
It feels so obvious now; I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.
I’m not sure I’ll ever even see Theo again. But it’s a good reminder that I shouldn’t settle. Or stay in a boring relationship just because it feels safe.
“I don’t know how to do things differently, Mia,” I say, and she reaches over to squeeze my knee.
“I think the first step is deciding you want to.” She glances down at her phone. “I hate to leave you, but I have to get back to work.”
I lift my hands to my cheeks. “I think I have to sit here until my face isn’t swollen and puffy. This is why I don’t cry. I look like a splotchy tomato.”
“But you’re a beautiful splotchy tomato,” she says.
I take a deep breath. “Thanks for spending your break with me.”
“Of course,” Mia says. “Poor Aaron had to eat by himself, but you’re worth it.”
“Aaron, is it? How are things with you guys? I’m happy to vacate the stairwell if you need it.”
She raises her eyebrows suggestively. “We’ve graduated from stairwells, thank you very much. We’re finally going out this weekend. On a real date.”
“Yay! That’s amazing,” I say, even as an uncomfortable sense of instability pricks at my heart.
I’m so happy for Mia. But the possibility of heading back to California without her feels like lobbing off my own arm.
I don’t know how I’ll survive without her.
Especially since things are over with Rory.
Or almost over, anyway.
She reaches over and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I should be,” I say. “I’m a little wrung out. But I’m thinking a bath in Indigo’s enormous bathtub should help me feel like myself again.”
“That bathtub really is extraordinary,” Mia says. “You should absolutely go use it.”
“You’re off at seven?” I ask. “Want me to come back for you?”
“Nah. I’ve got my running clothes in my locker. I’m going to change and make getting home part of my workout.”
“The fact you’re willing to run outside at all in the middle of an Atlanta summer is beyond me,” I say.
“I’m actually getting used to it,” she says. “And have you seen my skin lately?” She pats her cheeks. “I’m so plump and hydrated. You wanna come with me? I can run home to meet you, then we could head over to the park to finish?”
I’m not half the runner Mia is. Even with her much shorter legs, she can basically run circles around me. I’m more of a yoga and Pilates girl, neither of which requires me to be outside when it’s hot and humid. But a run might be just the thing I need to reset my brain before I meet Rory.
“Actually, a run sounds good,” I say. “But only a short one because I have to meet Rory tonight.”
She sits up a little taller. “Shut up. Are you serious? You never want to run with me.”
“I’m serious. But we have to get smoothies from that place on the corner after we’re done. And you can’t frown at me when I don’t add protein powder to mine.”
“Done,” Mia says.
“And you can’t secretly ask them to add kale when I’m not looking.”
“You can’t even taste the kale.”
“No kale,” I repeat, and she breathes out a sigh, pushing herself to her feet.
“One of these days I’m going to convince you,” she says.
She holds out her hands, and I let her pull me to my feet, my butt numb from the concrete. She wraps me up in one of her tiny but fierce hugs. “Go home. Relax a little. I’ll be home by seven thirty.”
On my way out, I catch my reflection in the small glass panel of the stairwell door. I’m blotchy and puffy-eyed, my hair frizzing out of its ponytail. Somehow it seems fitting—the exact look for a woman about to break up with one man while definitely not thinking about another.