Chapter 8
So Nice. So Smart. So What.
At arrivals, I hover near the baggage carousel like some half-lost suitcase no one’s claimed yet. Jared doesn’t know I’m here. After Gavin’s spectacular brunch bomb, I couldn’t text or call. I needed to tell him in person. To soften the blow, if that’s even possible.
When he spots me, his grin is so easy, so Jared, it cracks something in me. He pulls me into a hug, kisses me, still warm, still familiar. For one stupid second, I almost believe nothing’s changed.
Half an hour later, we’re on our bench in the park, sandwiches between us, the city blurring around the edges.
“I have to tell you something,” I say. “And you’re not going to like it.”
“You told my family we were breaking up?” he shrugs. “I kinda figured that might happen. I’m surprised Cari hasn’t texted me yet.”
“Yes,” I say, careful. “I did tell them. And they didn’t take it well. They were confused. Shocked.” I pause. “Kinda like me.”
He grimaces.
“The thing is, they started to bombard me with questions, a lot of them having to do with why we’re breaking up. I didn’t want to tell them, but it came out anyway.”
“What came out?”
“They know everything.”
“Ava,” he says slowly, “we agreed I would tell them.”
“I know we did. I tried, I really did, but they kept pressing and—”
“Damn it, Ava.” His voice isn’t loud, but it slices clean through the air. “I can’t believe you would do that.”
“Jared, I …”
“How could you? It’s a huge personal thing.”
“I get that. But if you’d just let me explain—”
“You were right.” He stands abruptly, the bench rocking slightly beneath me. “We need a clean break.”
He inhales, unevenly—his tell. He’s angry, but underneath that, he’s hurt. I’ve known him long enough to hear the difference.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“I’m pissed, Ava. If I stay, I’ll say something I’ll regret.”
I watch him disappear down the street like some scene from a breakup montage, but there’s no swelling music, no cinematic goodbye—just me, a half-eaten sandwich, and the cold, simple fact that this time, it’s really over.