Chapter 29
Ikill the engine and remain sitting, my hands still on the wheel, gripping it hard.
I need to hold on to something. There’s a certain kind of silence in a car that’s just been turned off.
It’s a thick silence. It makes everything in your brain, every thought, louder than ever. And my brain is roaring right now.
The sun is about to set behind Benjamin’s house, balancing like a golden globe on the edge of the horizon.
It’s coloring the ocean and making it look like a glowing, billowing blanket.
It’s so beautiful it hurts. My chest is aching—from the beauty, but mostly from something else. From what I have to do.
I hear my own blood rushing in my ears. I watch the house outside my windshield. It is, without a doubt, the most beautiful house I have ever seen. But what’s most beautiful about it is inside. Preparing a dinner as I sit here, unable to move.
My drive here was in a complete daze. I can’t recall what I saw on my way, I wasn’t really aware. I was too busy trying to understand. But at the same time, I can recall it all. I memorized every part of it like it was the last time I saw it.
I’ve always been sure I belong in New York. Why am I not so sure anymore? It doesn’t make any sense. I’ve worked so hard for it. It’s been the goal all the time. But now . . . I can’t make sense of it. Why do I feel like this? It’s so . . . confusing.
I flinch when a text message lights up my screen.
Benjamin: You want me to serve you the dinner in your car?
I take a shaky breath and wipe quickly under my eyes. I don’t want to leave this car because until I do, everything is still as it was just a couple of hours ago. It’s unchanged. I’m still a part of all of this. Until I do, I can still pretend like I belong here.
This should be easy. Something fun. Something I’ve been longing for for weeks now. This is all I’ve wanted since I got here—return to New York. The city of my dreams. My life.
“You can do this,” I whisper to myself and with one last deep breath, I push open the door.
It’s a humid evening. It smells like summer.
Sun, ocean, and something sweet. I close my eyes and fill my lungs with the salty air.
The sound from the waves rolling in on the beach beneath makes my heart pinch.
As I pass the mailbox, I remember the very first time I came here.
It feels like an eternity ago. Somehow it was because I don’t feel like the same person anymore.
I have . . . changed. Or maybe I haven’t.
Maybe I’m still the same. I’m still June from New York, not June from .
. . Pearlband Beach. A cold shiver travels down my arms.
Something is different with the house, and it takes me a moment to realize what it is. I stop the second I see it. A porch swing. I stare at it as an odd feeling crawls up my spine, into my chest, and hugs my heart. Squeezing it hard.
It wasn’t here this morning. I . . . The front door opens, and suddenly he’s there, taking up the entire doorway. The warmth that hits me almost kicks my feet away. I stare between him and the swing. “Have you . . .” I begin, struggling to find the right words. “It’s a porch swing.”
He drops his chin, resting against the frame of the door, arms crossed. “It is.”
“Have you . . . I mean . . . you did this?”
“I did.” His voice is calm. Low. Safe.
“Why?” I whisper.
He studies me for a moment and, at first, I’m not sure he’ll answer me. But then, “You said that’s what was missing.”
I look at him. You said that’s what was missing. He cared about what I was saying? He remembered? I swallow. “This is what you’ve been doing today,” I whisper slowly, finally understanding.
“Yes,” he says. I gaze back at him, suddenly incapable of speech. My chest hurts. Everything hurts.
Benjamin shifts at the door, a worried expression appearing on his face. “June, what is it?” He takes a step forward and for the second time today, he asks me, “What’s wrong?”
Why is my throat so small all of a sudden? I take a deep breath. “My boss called.”
Alarm flashes quickly behind his eyes. He watches me quietly, waiting for me to continue.
“She wants me back. Immediately.”
I swallow, trying to remind myself that this is what I want. Benjamin can’t hide his surprise. “Immediately?”
“Yeah. Apparently, there have been some issues.” My voice is thin.
His eyes are fixed on me. “What did you tell her?”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Yeah, what did you say to her?”
“That I’ll be there.”
Benjamin’s eyes grow wide. “Wait, what?”
“She’s my boss, Benjamin. What else could I do?”
He stares at me. “So, you’re just gonna leave?”
I hesitate. “I . . .”
Benjamin laughs without humor and drags a hand down his face. “Fucking unbelievable.”
I take a step forward. “Benjamin, I . . .”
“So, what, you’re here to say goodbye?”
“I . . . yes . . . no . . . I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? But you know you’re leaving immediately?”
“Yes, but . . .”
He laughs again, shaking his head in disbelief and a flash of anger lights my chest like a bonfire.
“What the hell do you think I should do then, Benjamin? Huh? My life is in New York. My job. My apartment. Everything.”
“Everything is in New York?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
A moment’s hesitation. Am I sure? No. But my life is there. Everything I’ve worked for. Everything should be in New York. But Benjamin is here . . .
“I . . .” I can’t answer his question. My brain wants to say one thing, but my mouth another. “What do you think I should do then?” I ask angrily, my voice an octave higher than before.
He fixes me with his eyes. Challenging me with his look. “Follow your gut.”
“My gut?” I repeat.
“Yeah. What’s your gut telling you?”
Stay.
“I don’t know.”
Liar.
“I don’t believe you. I think you know. Stop being so damn afraid.”
A new flame of anger flares in me. “Afraid? I’m not afraid!”
“I think you are. I think you’re afraid of wanting something else. You’re afraid of following your gut feeling.” He pauses. “You’re afraid of following your heart instead of your brain.”
“I am following my heart! I have been following my heart my whole life, that’s why I moved to New York in the first place.”
As I say the words, I can’t help but wonder if they’re actually true. Have I really been following my heart my whole life? Have I been following it these past few years? Have I enjoyed my life before I came here?
“I have a plan,” I say, my voice so weak that I’m not even sure I believe my own words. I’ve been talking about this plan my whole adult life, but now I’m not sure what it is anymore. Or what it means. Does it even mean the same thing anymore?
“The hard thing isn’t to pursue a plan, June. Or pursue what you thought was your dream. The hard thing is to realize and accept it’s not your dream anymore and follow your heart instead.”
“My dream is New York,” I yell stubbornly. “That’s where my job is. That’s where I can achieve something.”
“Jesus Christ,” he brushes out in utter disbelief. “Ambition is not measured in where you are. It’s measured in what you’re doing.”
“I can’t just leave everything!”
Benjamin rakes two hands through his hair. “Goddammit, June. Where are you happy?”
“In New York.”
Benjamin shakes his head. “You’re lying because you’re scared. You’re scared of choosing happiness instead of the fucking plan you think is your life.”
I hate how his words hit me. How they hit a sore spot deep in my chest. Hitting something I’ve been afraid of for some time now. Afraid. That word again. More anger weaves through me at the conflict in my body that his words are causing.
“You don’t even do relationships,” I snap before I can stop myself.
Benjamin halts, his gaze racing all over my face.
Then he takes a deep breath, like he’s bracing himself.
“No. I don’t. And I don’t make women breakfast. Or stay up with them all night watching a TV show.
Or walk my dog with them. I fuck them and then I’m done.
” Another humorless laugh. “But with you . . . You. You’ve turned my whole damn life upside down.
I’m crazy about you. Nothing can ever be the same again after you.
There’s a before you and an after you. I don’t date anyone.
But you. Because you’ve changed everything. ”
I stare at him. Unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to understand what he’s saying. He drags a frustrated hand down his face, something burning in his eyes now.
“You think anything ever can be the same after you? You think I’ll get over you? You think I can pretend that you never happened?”
I don’t have a voice anymore. My chest is exploding, and I can’t get a single word out. Get over me? I keep staring at him with my own eyes burning. Burning and brimming with something wet.
The green in his eyes is storming now. “I’ve fallen so hard for you that it’s driving me insane and scares me to death.”
Silence falls between us. Or a vacuum. I don’t even hear the ocean anymore. All I hear is the heavy breathing from both of us. I stare at him wide-eyed, still not sure if I’m dreaming or not. I’m chaos. A war.
“Benjamin, I—” I’m interrupted by a sharp ringtone. His phone. First, it’s like he doesn’t even realize it’s ringing. Then, after a beat, he pulls it out from the back pocket of his jeans. He sighs deeply.
“I need to take this.”
“Now?” I rasp, my voice thick. Am I crying?
He gives me one last glance. “It was nice knowing you, June Collins.” And before I can even move, or beg him to stay with me, he turns and walks back up the porch.
The door slams shut behind him and I’m left alone.
I stare at the door, like I’m expecting him to come back out again.
But he doesn’t. Instead, my eyes move to the beautiful porch swing.
The most perfect porch swing I’ve ever seen.
And that’s when it happens—my heart breaks and my vision disappears in a blur.