Well, that means that Goose knows now, because those guys talk more than anyone else I’ve ever known. Justin would come in Monday morning with gossip about everyone and everything that happened over the weekend, even things I didn’t know or care about.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say.
I don’t add that it doesn’t matter, because it really doesn’t. He packed his things, walked away without a single word, and I don’t think I’ll ever see him again at this point. If he wanted to keep me, he would have. He has no staying power.
“I was worried, and I don’t know… I just started talking, and out it came.”
“It’s okay,” I say again. “George is really great, and he’s going to be my boss.”
There is a moment of silence, and then I hear her speak again. “Cidney,” she hisses. “What about Goose? I thought you loved him?”
My eyes slide closed as I think about that. About how I am in love with him. I know George is a mistake. It will probably crash and burn at some point, but he’s someone who seems to be going through the same thing as me. So if we can take comfort in one another, what’s the issue?
“I do love him, but he walked away from me without respecting me enough to tell me.”
And that is the cold, hard truth. She knows it too, because she doesn’t say anything else. The silence hangs thick around us, and I know she’s got something she wants to say, needs to say, but she’s holding back.
“Just say it, Lainey,” I demand softly.
There is judgment coming, and I brace myself, but I know it’s nothing I’m not already thinking about myself. Holding my breath, I wait for her words to slam into me. I wait for the emotion to consume me, but it doesn’t happen.
Instead, she starts to speak. “I get that. And honestly, George Edwards is probably one of the most eligible bachelors and nicest men in town,” she murmurs. “But he’s been through it.”
“I know,” I say. “Well, I don’t know, but he mentioned it. This isn’t love, what’s happening between him and me.”
“So you’re two brokenhearted people taking solace in one another.”
Her words aren’t a question, rather a statement. She’s right. I am without a doubt brokenhearted, and so is George. I don’t know his story, but I’m sure he’ll tell me one day, probably over a boatload of drinks.
“Essentially,” I say.
“Then I support whatever is happening between you.”
I know I don’t need her permission. I’m twenty-one years old, and I can do whatever the fuck I want. But it feels nice that she is also saying that she supports me in my decisions.
My crazy, emotion-filled decisions.
GOOSE
Before I leave town, I watch her apartment. I need to see her one last time, even if it’s from afar, but as I stare at the window to her place, I realize that it doesn’t matter. None of it fucking matters anymore.
Seeing her will just make me want to stay, and clearly, she’s feeling some kind of way, whether it’s getting over me by getting under someone else, or what. I’m not sure, but it doesn’t matter.I walked away from her without a word, and that negates all my rights to know who or what she’s doing.
I’m going to walk away just like Ivy wants, and I don’t ever plan on seeing her again. Even though my soul fucking aches for her. Even though I feel like my body and mind are breaking into a million pieces. Even though I know there will never be anyone else.
I fell in love with Cidney Whitaker.
I fell in love with the woman who was made just for me.
I found something that not everyone gets to find. I found that piece of my soul that I didn’t know was missing, the piece that made me feel whole. I found happiness, and even if I only had it for a few minutes, weeks, hours, or days, it doesn’t matter because it wasn’t meant for me to keep.
I straddle my bike and take off. Riding through town, I lift my hand and wave at the bakery window as I ride past, then head toward Ivy’s place. I need to have one last conversation with him before I go.
He didn’t give me a chance to speak, to explain to him just how I feel about Cidney. He was there with only one thing on his mind: to beat the shit out of me, then tell me that she’s not for me, that he would never agree to it or allow it. He knew his answer, and nothing I said to him was going to change it.
But today isn’t about talking him into anything. This is about explaining myself and then saying my goodbyes. Because what I don’t plan on doing is ever seeing Ivy again, at least not if I can help it.
Parking my bike in his driveway, I walk up to the front door and reach out, touching the doorbell with my index finger. I can hear movement inside. There are baby noises on the other side of the door. When the door opens, I’m surprised to see that it’s Posey standing in front of me, a baby in her arms.
