“Leo. Can we talk for just a minute? I was going to call you this morning, but then ... I don’t know. It didn’t seem like a type of conversation to have on the phone.”
“No.” I clenched my jaw. “Just go back inside, Quinn. Haven’t I gone through enough? I played nice yesterday, all during your big day. I smiled big and pretended it was really afunafternoon. I kept my mouth shut. Can’t I be done now? Or would you like me to roll around in some broken glass, maybe? Just to see if I can still feel anything, or if I’ve gone completely numb.”
I heard her sharp intake of breath. “Leo, please.”
“No.” I opened the car door and jumped out, stalking away, heading for the beach, willing Quinn not to follow me.
But of course she did.
“Just one minute, please. Let me say something. Let me—God, Leo. You don’t think yesterday was hard for me, too? You don’t think I second-guessed myself about a thousand times? You don’t think I’d do anything to make all of this different?”
“Would you?” I whipped around to face her finally. “Would you, really? Because from where I’m sitting, you’re enjoying being Saint Quinn, the selfless best friend who’s making a martyr of herself, sacrificing herself on the altar of her dying friend. This wasyourchoice, Quinn. Yours. No one else made it for you. You can say what you want about Nate asking you, putting you in a position where you had to choose, but goddammit, you made the wrong fucking choice. And everyone can see it. So you woke up with regrets this morning, huh? It’s finally sinking in what you’ve done? Well, you know what, Quinn? That’s just too fucking bad, because I’m done. I’m finished waiting around for you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She’d gone pale, her arms wrapped tight around her waist.
“It means just what I said. This is it, Quinn. The end. This is the last you’re going to see of me. You made your decision. Fine. Now you’re going to live with it, and I wish you all the luck in the world. But I can’t stand around, waiting on the sidelines like some pathetic substitute, ready to step in the minute the position’s empty again. I’m more than that.Weare more than that. But it turns out I’m the only one who realizes it.”
She’d sunk to the sand then, bowing her head and curling in on herself as she wept. At any other time, I would’ve caved at that point. I would have gone to her, taken her into my arms, soothed her sobs and told her it was all going to be okay.
But this time, I didn’t. I made the hardest, most painful choice I’d made since the last time I’d left her, back in high school, and I walked to the front of the house and got in the car.
Gia was sitting in the passenger seat, her eyes big in her face. She’d been silent as I threw the car into reverse. backed out and then floored it, going way above the speed limit, just fucking daring any cop to stop me.
When we were finally out of Ocean City, she’d laid one tentative hand on my arm. “I’m sorry. I went to get my phone—it was in the kitchen—and when I came back out, she was by the car. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, Leo. About everything.”
“Not your fault,” I’d muttered, my eyes glued to the road. “No one’s fucking fault.” And then we’d been quiet the rest of the drive, until I’d dropped her at the apartment she, Zelda and Quinn had shared for the past semester, after which I’d come straight to the airport.
In my pocket, my phone buzzed now with a text reminding me it was nearly time to board the plane. I deleted that one and flipped through other messages, updates and emails. Nothing pressing. After a moment, I gave into the curiosity raised by running into Dana Jenkins and scrolled to the only social media app still on my phone, opened it and typed in a name.
Sarah Jenkins
Within seconds, it was clear that my ex-girlfriend’s recent life hadn’t been as eventful as mine. She popped up quickly, her smiling profile picture beaming at me. None of her privacy settings were up, and I was able to see a few posts, pictures from her graduation and some group shots of her with friends, arms around each other’s necks, beers in their hands ... typical photos that anyone our age might have. The few pictures from my own graduation were low-key, with just my parents and me. We hadn’t made a big deal about it, since we all had to be back in Jersey for Quinn and Nate’s graduation and wedding.
And come to think of it, we hadn’t really taken any photos at the wedding itself. I remembered Sheri snapping a few of Nate and Quinn, but there weren’t any group shots, probably because most of us wanted to forget that it had ever happened.
Or maybe that was just me.
I ran my thumb over the phone’s screen one more time as I stood up from the bar stool, scrolling until Sarah’s relationship status showed.Single. I wasn’t surprised, since Dana probably would’ve mentioned something to me if her sister was in a serious relationship. Still ... I hovered over her name, undecided.
What the hell. We were old friends, and now we were going to be living in the same state. It would be weird if I didn’t get in touch and say hello. I hit the message button and tapped out what I hoped sounded casual.
Hey, stranger! Ran into your sister at the airport. I hear we’re going to be state buddies. Let me know if you ever get down to Richmond, and I’ll buy you a drink. Hope all is well.
There. It was done. I stuffed my phone back into my pocket, stuck a couple of twenties into the small black folder on the bar and made my way down the concourse to the plane that was going to take me away from Quinn, Nate and all the fucked-up mess they’d made of our lives.
It was time to move on.
