17
Annie
How’s this for a sign?
I stare at the empty slip where Jack’s sailboat should be.
We had planned to set off for Hawaii this morning.
But after twenty-four hours of nothing from Jack, I’m not surprised to find Queen Mab has set sail.
I only came to the yacht club to see for myself what I already suspected: Jack is gone, and he’s not coming back.
Still, I add one more text to the long string of unanswered ones.
Annie
I’m at the yacht club and your boat isn’t here . . . ?
For the first time since Sunday morning the three dots ripple. He’s texting me back. I wait for his reply.
Jack
Sorry
I will always love you
Yeah, sure. Brandon was right. Jack never truly loved me.
I yank the moonstone ring off my finger and stare at the softly glowing stone.
This is the talisman I clung to, desperately trying to convince myself that Jack was my true love—that my heart wasn’t breaking for someone else.
With a primal scream, I hurl the ring into the water.
It sinks without a splash, an insignificant piece of jewelry drifting down to be forgotten on the ocean floor.
I wish I could do the same thing with Esmerelda.
Instead, I opt to leave the Mini Cooper in the yacht club parking lot with the keys in it. I’ll walk home. No matter the distance.
First Brandon, now Jack. The men I love keep leaving me—I’m such a joke. All I can do is look pretty and write bad poetry and love the wrong people.
I move at a snail’s pace along Highway One.
It’s a cold morning for July. A strong wind rips at dark clouds.
I revel in the bad weather and my self-pity.
Every once in a while, I look up into the sky and let the wind carry my sobs away.
Perhaps a bit dramatic, but it feels so good to let it all out—to cry and shout at the heavens.
And Jack! Why! Why did he leave? Why did he pretend to love me?
Why did I pretend to love him? That’s the hardest question—the one that cuts deepest, because I only have myself to blame.
I’ve made it about a mile when I hear tires slowly approaching. Edward pulls over in the pickup truck he drives around the park.
“Looks like you need a ride home?”
I want to say no, but who am I kidding? I can’t walk the thirty miles home. I’m lucky he was driving this way.
We’ve covered several miles before Edward asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, not really.”
“Okay, do you want to listen to anything?” Edward is so companionable and sweet. I may have made a lot of mistakes lately, but I stand by my efforts to bring him and Elinor together. That, at least, was something I got right.
I take a deep breath. “Never mind, I actually want to talk. So . . . Jack is gone.”
“Oh! Wow! Did you break up?”
“No . . . nothing so straightforward. He left for Hawaii without me. I don’t know why.”
This isn’t completely true. We exchanged sharp words after Brandon gave Jack a bloody nose Saturday night. Though we ended the evening on good terms, thinking about it now, I realize that when Jack kissed me goodnight it felt more like goodbye.
“I did not see that coming,” says Edward. “He seemed to really like you.”
“Yeah, he told me he loved me so often I kind of believed him. I thought . . . I thought we had something real.”
“l never thought he was good enough for you.”
“Now you sound like Brandon.”
“Well, Brandon’s a smart guy.” Yep, smart enough to leave me, I think to myself.
I can’t say how much it hurt when Elinor mentioned in passing yesterday morning that Brandon and Pepper had left Norland Park for the summer.
She assumed I knew all about them leaving, and I didn’t contradict her.
Secretly, I expected an apology from Brandon after our rip-roaring fight Saturday night. Instead he left without saying a word.
“Hey, would you not tell Brandon about this?” I ask Edward. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”
“Got it. Don’t tell Brandon,” he says. After a beat he asks, “Why?”
“It’s just . . . the other night he was telling me that there was no way Jack could love me.”
“I’m certain Brandon didn’t mean it like that.”
“Well, he was right.” I start crying again.
Edward pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and hands it to me. I sniffle a thank you and cry the rest of the way home.
***
For the next week I hide in my room, only to emerge for my piano performance and to work in the garden.
I stop wearing makeup—why bother, when my eyes are red rimmed and my face is blotchy from crying?
I hardly bother with my hair. I wear the same dress three days in a row.
If I had a wedding dress, I’d go full Miss Havisham.
The only thing getting me through is my flowers.
My life might be in shambles, but at least I can still cultivate something beautiful.
I’m taking my emotions out on a patch of weeds when a text from Brandon comes through.
Brandon
I just heard about Jack.
I am so sorry.
You deserve better.
If you need anything, I’m here.
I burst into tears. Brandon was right all along.
His words have been running through my head and heart for days.
Jack loves you? My brain has amplified the disbelief and disdain in Brandon’s voice, and then added, Nobody loves you.
You don’t deserve love. It is such a relief to read, “You deserve better.” I read it over and over and almost believe it.
But the line that gets me is: If you need anything, I’m here. Because he’s not here, and I want him to be. And the one thing I want from Brandon he can’t give me. Right now, his steadfast, devoted friendship just might break me.
If I’m being perfectly honest, I’ve been walking around like a zombie not because of Jack’s disappearance, but because of my fight with Brandon.
The two things happening at the same time have sent me into a spiral.
It’s all my fault. I’m not lovable. No wonder they both left. I’m pathetic. I’m an idiot. I’m a fool.
And since Jack left, I’m more aware of how little I actually knew about him. It’s horrifying to think I was planning to go off with him in a sailboat. Once again, Brandon was right. And the guy’s too annoyingly noble to even say I told you so.
I stare and stare at Brandon’s text. I’m so tempted to call him and tell him everything.
He’s an incredible listener. He has this way of watching me while I talk with his serious brown eyes that makes me feel as if my every word matters.
That’s the problem with Brandon; he’s so thoughtful and attentive, it’s easy to mistake his caring for something more.
***
That evening my mom and Elinor join me while I’m sitting on the porch staring at the dregs of the sunset, thinking melancholy thoughts—as one does.
“Annie . . .” Something about the way my mom says my name carefully—as if she’s talking to a sick person—makes me tense, preparing for bad news.
“Yes?”
“I’ve got some news about Jack.”
“What is it? Is he alive? Was he lost at sea?”
“Don’t worry—as far as I know, he’s very much alive.”
“Which is unfortunate,” quips Elinor.
“It’s just that he was . . . I mean, he is engaged.”
“Engaged?” I repeat. I’m too shocked to say anything else.
“Yes, I just got off the phone with J.J. She’s been visiting her daughter in Santa Barbara, and while she was getting her nails done, she met this nice girl named Isabella.
She told J.J. all about her amazing trip sailing down the coast from Monterey with her fiancé, Jack.
They had recently been reunited after six months apart.
They had decided that before they settled down they should both cross one thing off their bucket list. Hers was to work with Doctors without Borders, and his was to sail the Panama Canal. ”
“And to cheat on his fiancée,” Elinor says under her breath.
“J.J. didn’t think it could possibly be the Jack we know.
But then she saw him through the window when he came to pick Isabella up.
She couldn’t follow because her nails were still being done, but she said Isabella’s fiancé looked so much like our Jack that she called me as soon as she got home.
Then Elinor and I did a little sleuthing. ”
“I looked them up on The Knot—’Jack Willoughby and Isabella Grey,’” says Elinor. “The wedding is in September.”
“Jack is engaged!” I say again. “And he’s in Santa Barbara?”
“Yes, apparently he’s been engaged for a year,” says my mom.
“What about his fiancée? Does she know about me?”
“J.J. didn’t get the chance to tell her. But she plans to. She knows where they are staying.”
“He bought me a car! He talked about spending Christmas together in Maine. He convinced me to give up that job—I was so excited about that job. Why would he do that?”
“Maybe he was a little in love with you,” suggests my mom.
Again I hear Brandon’s derisive laugh, Jack’s in love with you?
“I don’t think he ever loved me. I was just a pleasant distraction.”
All the pretty things he said to me about loving me and me filling the hole in his heart—and I believed them all.
I actually felt bad for not loving him more.
If there’d been no Jack, I would have my job in Redwood City.
I’d live down the street from Brandon—and even though he said he didn’t want to date me, living that close—maybe .
. . maybe something could have eventually happened.
But now . . . it’s all a mess. I don’t even want to know what he thinks of me.
I just stare at the horizon; nearly all the light has faded from the sky. I have ruined everything.
“Speak to me, Annie,” my mom says after a while. “How are you feeling?”
“Shocked. And foolish, and naive.” I’m so ashamed.
I know deep down that I never loved Jack.
Oh, I tried, I definitely tried. He had a pretty face and even prettier words that told me exactly what I wanted to hear.
But if I’m honest with myself, I dated him because I was tired of waiting for Brandon.
I agreed to the Hawaii trip because Brandon had hurt my feelings when I overheard what he said to Pepper.
How incredibly immature and stupid can a girl be?
“Sweetheart, Jack fooled us all.”
“Not Brandon,” I maintain.
“Well, he has some skin in the game,” says Elinor.
“I wish you’d all stop acting like Brandon likes me. He doesn’t. I wish he did, but he doesn’t.”
I stand up from the Adirondack chair. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
“Are you certain you’re okay?” my mom asks as I head into the house.
“No, I’m not okay. Not even close.”
***
My performance on Friday is full of angry music. I’m not sure who I’m most angry at: Jack for being an absolute dirt bag, me for fooling myself into thinking I loved Jack, or Brandon for being right and for not being here when I want him. I know I could text him. I’ve started to many times today.
The thing is, I know that if I ask Brandon, he will be here right away.
But . . . I also know that I’m done with platonic friendship.
I want so much more than that. And I’m so emotionally fragile right now that I can’t risk any more rejection from Brandon.
Maybe my mom’s right, maybe he does care.
I desperately want to believe her, and a part of me clings to that hope.
As I step out of the hotel, there’s a man waiting for me with a bouquet of overblown peonies.
“Annie!” A familiar voice shouts my name.
Jack? It can’t be! I stop in my tracks, stunned by the sheer audacity of the man. Then I walk on by, holding my head high.
“Please!” He follows after me. “At least let me explain.”
I spin around full of righteous indignation. “Explain what? Why you ghosted me? Why you dated me while you were engaged? Why you pretended to love me?”
He flinches when I mention his engagement. “None of it was pretend, I swear.” And bless his lying heart, I think he believes it. “Can we go somewhere more private?”
“Ok, fine. I do have questions. Walk with me.” I start with a brisk pace on the path leading to a favorite hiking trail. “You’d better keep up.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Okay, the floor is yours. Explain away.”
“While we walk?” Jack asks, a little put out. “It looks like rain.”
I look up at the foreboding clouds moving in.
“Then keep it short.”
“Okay . . . so I wasn’t serious at first. I was just entertaining myself while Isabella was away.”
“You know this isn’t helping your case.”
“I’m just trying to be honest. For once.”
“You’re terrible at it.”
“You’re not making this easy.”
“I don’t need to, Jack. You . . . you . . . I gave up that job for you, and then you just disappeared.”
“I know . . . I had just heard from Isabella. She had surprised me by returning early. And while at first you were just a very beautiful distraction, somewhere along the way I fell in love with you. How could I help it? And I knew I couldn’t marry Isabella.”
“That’s a pretty story, Jack, but then why did you ghost me when she showed up?”
“That wasn’t my plan, I promise. I meant to end things with her and go off with you.
That’s why I couldn’t leave as soon as you wanted—because I needed to set things right with Isabella.
But then Saturday night I saw you and Brandon sneaking off during the campfire .
. . and I don’t care what you say—that guy is so into you. ”
I can’t help but feel a small thrill at this. “Nothing happened. We were fighting.”
“It didn’t look that way to me. So the next day, instead of breaking up with Isabella, I set sail. It didn’t take me long to realize I had made the biggest mistake of my life.”
I stop my relentless pace to look back at his sad puppy dog face. The delusional prat! He believes his own story.
“Or in other words,” I say. “She dumped you.”
“Yes, but it was mutual.”
“I see. Jack, I’m only going to say this once: Go to hell! And take those flowers with you!”