CHAPTER 39 Millie Monroe
Checked Out
Do you know how hard it is to take pictures of yourself smiling when it feels like your entire world has crashed down?
After I got that message from the concierge, I ran over to Archer’s tower.
The key didn’t work.
I called the front desk and asked for Clive, and he answered.
“Mr. Bradley checked out. I’m sorry, but I have no further information.”
His words echo around my mind. Checked out. Checked out. Checked out.
So…that’s it?
I spent three weeks getting to know and love this man, and he just walked out because of one mistake on my part?
Okay, fine. So it was a pretty big mistake.
A fundamental one where he feels betrayed, and I get that.
I do. But he didn’t even give me the chance to apologize.
He didn’t give me the chance to tell him how horrible I feel about what I did.
He didn’t give me the chance to tell him about the offer from Diedrick and how just going live without naming any of them was enough to earn me the paid partnership of my dreams. He didn’t give us a chance.
It's my own fault. He was right when he said I chose my career over him. I absolutely did after I didn’t see a way forward for us, but that’s no excuse. Instead, it’s the biggest regret of my life.
I can’t take the partnership. Not like this. Not when it’s tainted with my sins.
He saw me in a way nobody else ever has. He saw me without conditions, without a filter. He saw past the fake smile to the inside, and he couldn’t stay away.
We shared something special and deep in the weeks we were here, and it was so much more than just the hot sex. It was letting each other in, and I knew it would be hard to say goodbye at the end. Maybe he did, too, and that’s why he left. He couldn’t bear it, maybe.
If only it wasn’t some lame justification I’m trying to tell myself.
I stare out the window at the ocean view from this last suite I’ll stay in at this resort. I’ve tried several, though the majority of my time was in Archer’s room.
When I originally got into this industry, the idea was to have some fun and find ways to feel like a VIP even though it wasn’t in my budget.
I always loved writing and creating, taking photos and editing.
I liked being on social media. And I loved to travel.
I found a way to combine those passions into one career.
But it’s different when it’s a job. It’s different when it’s a hobby versus when it’s generating income.
The social side of it has become an obsession, which is something I never realized until I met Archer. He’s the one who pointed it out because he’s the one who saw past all that to the girl inside who’s actually pretty lost when it comes to what I want out of life.
He’s the one who freed me.
And as I stare out at the ocean with my phone somewhere on a table behind me, I can’t help but think that I want to continue to be free from the binds of that life.
So where does that leave me?
If I want to be an influencer, I need to be present to nurture my audience. But I don’t want to be present for the outside world. I want to be present to the insiders, the people I spend my time with.
The problem is that I’ve lost so many of them to this career.
Friends who became jealous, or friends who got married and moved on with their lives. Friends who threw themselves into their own careers. Friends who are moms now when that’s nowhere near the horizon for me.
The only friends I have left are Chip and Jackie and the online network I’ve made because of the time I spend there.
It’s not fun anymore. It lost its luster along the way, and as I think about the offer that’s on the table behind me—probably with my phone perched on top of it—I can’t help but think that while it’s made up of everything I ever wanted, I already know I’m going to decline.
Maybe it’s stupid. Maybe it’s emotional because of how it landed on my lap. Regardless, it doesn’t feel right to take it. I’m not cut out to be ruthless in the pursuit of getting what I want.
I’m not passionate about bartending, but I think I’m at a point where it’s what I have to do while I figure out what comes next for me.
I feel exhausted and achy, like I’m physically wrecked from the heartbreak inside.
It feels like a breakup even though it’s not.
But it is. I guess I’m confused with how to label it when there wasn’t actually a breakup since he walked out without giving me that courtesy, but we weren’t ever actually together, either.
The only time I was his girlfriend was when we were faking it for Ford and Tatum, but at the same time, it felt real.
The moment I showed up at his side when he was faced with them in a total coincidence was the moment things seemed to change. It was the moment he realized that I wasn’t just some blogger but that I was willing to stand up for him at a time when he felt like he was well and truly alone.
He doesn’t have to be.
I’m still right here.
But I fucked that one up hard and good, and it looks like I’m out of luck when it comes to Archer Bradley.
We should have had four more days enjoying each other, and instead, I trudge through those four days with a fake smile plastered to my face, sunglasses covering my eyes, as I attend more excursions we could have done together.
I decline Diedrick’s offer, and I leave him behind in shock after my parting words.
“Thank you for your offer, but I’m going to have to decline.
Your VIP guests deserve better than you bribing a travel influencer to post them on social media, and I refuse to partner with a brand that stoops to that level. ”
It’s an anticlimactic end to what was in some ways the best and in other ways the worst trip of my entire life.
I board my plane home, exhaustion in my bones and my stomach in knots. I don’t want to leave this place. It’s where I experienced the kind of love I didn’t think I’d ever get to have.
And at the same time, it’s also where it was all yanked away because I decided to put my own needs ahead of someone else’s.
Never again. I will never do that again. If I’m ever faced with this sort of decision again in my life, which is unlikely, I will never jeopardize something so precious because I feel backed into a corner.
Lesson learned. An expensive lesson at that.
I take a two-hour flight to Atlanta, during which I delete the video at the root of why he’s so angry with me. There’s no need to keep it on my feed now that I’ve checked out of the resort and fulfilled my contract.
I’m stuck in Atlanta for nearly two hours, and then it’s another two hours to Chicago.
After I land, Chip and Jackie are standing at the bottom of an escalator with a sheet of paper that says “Millie Monroe” on it in black block lettering.
I burst into tears.
Jackie rushes toward me and pulls me in for a hug. “What happened?”
Chip’s right behind her with a hand on my back. “Whose ass do I need to kick?”
I force a little chuckle, and I try to pull it together, but it’s like the tears just won’t stop. “Thanks for being here,” I sob, and Jackie just holds me and rubs my back.
“We wouldn’t be anywhere else,” she says.
I draw in a shaky breath and pull out of our hug, and I swipe at the tears tracking down my cheeks. “I fucked up.”
“How?” Jackie asks. Chip stands beside her, and they’re both staring at me with concern. It would be comical if I weren’t so depressed.
“The hotel manager kept pressuring me to feature Archer, and then a few of his teammates showed up, and I went live with them in the background. It went viral, and Archer was understandably angry since he asked me not to put him in my content.”
“Oh, babe,” Jackie says.
“He left early without a goodbye, and I was offered a very generous paid partnership by the hotel. I declined.”
“You declined?” they say in unison.
Again…comical if I wasn’t hurting.
“It felt tainted, and I don’t want to be associated with a business that pressures their influencers to post certain content.” I tuck my hair behind my ears and sniffle.
“That’s actually very noble of you,” Chip says. “Did you tell Archer?”
I shake my head. “I don’t have a way to get in touch with him.”
“You could call him, you know…” Chip offers.
“We never exchanged numbers. He’s not a big phone guy, and we were always together, so we really didn’t need to. I don’t have a way to get in touch with him.”
“Instagram?” Jackie suggests.
“He doesn’t have one.” I press my lips together.
Jackie gasps. “How is that even possible in this day and age?”
I can’t help a little laugh at that. “Right? That’s what I said!”
We head toward the baggage carousel, and I grab my bags off. Chip pulls one while I pull the other out to their truck in the parking garage.
“I just want to get home and sleep for a month, but I’m going to need those extra shifts if you can swing it,” I say once we’re in the car.
“You want back on the schedule tomorrow night?” he asks.
“Please. I already know I’ll be going stir crazy. I just need to sleep a hundred hours first.”
Chip laughs as he pulls out of his space. “You do realize if you sleep a hundred hours, you’ll miss your shift tomorrow.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I say, and I yawn.
I must fall asleep because I wake to Jackie gently shaking my arm.
“Millie? We’re home,” she says quietly.
“Huh?” I ask, disoriented for a moment. I blink a few times and squint at her, and then I realize I never properly congratulated her in person. “Congratulations on the baby, by the way,” I say.
She laughs. “Thanks. Do you need help getting out of the truck?”
I shake my head. “I’m okay.” I hop down out of my seat and stretch. The little nap didn’t do anything but make me feel even more tired. It must be the heartbreak paired with the travel, but I’ll be back to normal by tomorrow.
Only…I’m not.
I’m usually one of those people that gets home and has a load of laundry going an hour later with the rest of my belongings from my trip put away—suitcase included.
Today, however, that didn’t happen.
I collapsed on my couch with my suitcases beside the door, and that’s where they’ve been for the last…I squint at the clock.
Holy shit. The last ten hours.
It’s a little after four in the morning. It’s dark in here except for the lamp I flicked on when I collapsed on the couch, and I really, really have to pee.
I’m wide awake after so much sleep even though it’s super early. Paradise Island is only an hour ahead of Chicago, so it shouldn’t really be impacting me the way jet lag might. I guess I just need some time to get readjusted back to reality.
Reality kind of sucks, to be honest.
I have a text from Chip sent last night with my schedule for the next week, and he wants me in from four until close. It’s a Saturday, which means I could be there until one or even two in the morning.
I should go back to sleep. I’ll never make it until two AM if I get up right now.
But when I lie in my bed, all I can think about is all the nights I spent tucked into Archer’s side.
I miss him. Fiercely. With a pain I didn’t know I could feel.
But he checked out. Of the hotel. On us. It’s over.
And that’s something I’m just going to have to get used to.