Chapter 31
Istare blankly out the big windows of the airport.
A new day is about to begin, the sun will soon be up.
Cactus sits at my feet, and I think she senses something’s different.
She hasn’t left my side, and her ears have been on constant alert for the past twelve hours.
The guilt of taking her from her home is digging a hole in my stomach.
I can’t explain to her what’s about to happen, and the thought of surprising her with a new home in a different part of the country —far away from what she knows and all the people she loves—is nothing but awful.
I let out a breath, feeling my chest tightening again. Why is this so hard?
I haven’t slept, but I’m not tired—I’m numb.
After I hung up with Clara, I remained in the same position on the floor for hours, trying to make sense of what was going on in my brain.
In my heart. It wasn’t until I had no choice but to get up and start packing that I moved.
In a daze, I dropped everything into my bags.
I didn’t fold anything. I, who usually plan my packing and organize it like I’m in some kind of military camp.
But not this time. This time I couldn’t care less.
I walked through the house and looked at it like it was the first time I saw it.
Like it was the first time I really saw it.
It’s a beautiful home. It has taken care of me without me realizing it.
Those walls have made me safe. They’ve watched me at my best and my worst. And they accepted me when I got here and I was nothing but a mess. I love it. Every part of it.
I was considering leaving a letter to Margot in her mailbox.
I needed to explain to her why I was leaving so suddenly.
Explain to her what she means to me. Thank her.
But when I stepped out onto the porch and saw her house, I felt a need to talk to her.
A letter wouldn’t be enough. Not for Margot.
So, I went over there, Cactus right by my side, and knocked on her door, hoping I wasn’t scaring her.
A lamp inside was lit before the door opened. She didn’t look scared, but a worried expression flew over her face when she saw me, standing on her porch in a big sweatshirt and with my eyes swollen early in the morning. “June, dear, what’s wrong?”
Those words again. I did my best to swallow past the big knot in my throat that those words caused. Because they made me think of him.
“I’m going back to New York,” I managed to say. The worried expression on Margot’s face deepened.
“Are you okay? Is your family okay?”
I nodded and swallowed again. “Yes. My boss called. I need to be back at the office as soon as possible.”
Margot narrowed her eyes at me. “And you want to go?”
I wasn’t prepared for that direct question. “I . . .” I hesitated. “I have to. It’s my job.”
Margot nodded slowly. “I see.” Her eyes searched my face, and I don’t know what she saw there, but her voice was different when she spoke again. Softer. Gentler. “When do you leave?”
I did my best to sound as usual. “We leave for the airport in an hour.” I swallowed, and her gaze shifted to Cactus, sitting next to me, looking stoic and brave.
Margot’s thoughtful eyes found mine again and she looked like she was about to say something, so I hurried to speak again.
I wasn’t sure I could endure standing there much longer.
“I just wanted to . . . thank you. I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for both Cactus and me.
” I took a deep breath, using all my willpower to not close my eyes.
“You’ve been—” I never got the chance to finish that sentence before I was pulled into a hard hug.
I suffocated a sob and let myself close my eyes for a second when Margot’s thin arms held me.
We didn’t say anything, she just kept me there for a while before she let me go again.
And it wasn’t until I was back on the street that she spoke again.
“Life is scary sometimes, June. But you’re brave.
You’ll figure it out.” I turned around and met her gaze for a moment.
The look on her face was serious, but her eyes sparkled in the light from her hall.
I nodded briefly, not really knowing to what, before I left.
I did everything on some kind of autopilot: cleaned out the fridge and freezer, emptied the bathroom cabinet of all my products, and double-checked I hadn’t forgotten to pack anything. I hadn’t. Everything was packed. Everything, except for one thing.
I placed the shoes—the ones she once called porn—on the kitchen table next to a letter.
As soon as it was a reasonable hour, I’d text Iris and tell her where to find them.
Writing that letter was hard, but I did what I’d become pretty good at by this point, pushing through and ignoring everything else.
I’d pushed through for a long time, and I could do it again.
It was weird locking up the house for the last time, not knowing when or if I’d come back.
And it was weird driving out of Pearlband Beach, leaving it behind.
I just drove, not letting myself acknowledge how it felt.
But when I passed the sign saying, Thank you for your visit, we hope you enjoyed our hidden treasure, a single tear crawled down my cheek.
Because yes, I had. I had enjoyed this hidden treasure. And I would never forget about it.
I check my phone for the hundredth time as it’s time for us to board. Nothing. This time either. And I’m not sure what I hope to find there, or what I would do if I did.
But I know one thing: no matter how hard I try, I can’t ignore the pang of disappointment each time I check and find nothing.