“So, listen,” Nic said, bringing over my toast with some butter. “Mom knows you’re back.”
I groaned, and suddenly didn’t have an appetite anymore. “No, already?”
He nodded. “Sorry, I had to tell her. She and Dad want us to come over this afternoon. Have a family meal to celebrate. They’re excited to see you.”
“Okay, a homecooked meal does sound good. I just don’t want to have a whole big conversation about New York. Not right now. Not yet.”
“I’ll tell them to give you some breathing room, okay?” Nic pushed my plate toward me. “Eat. Starving yourself won’t make you feel better.”
“Nothing will make me feel better,” I grumbled and tore a corner off the toast with my teeth.
“Time heals all wounds,” my brother said wisely. “For everything else, there’s alcohol.”
I grinned a bit. “Maybe I’ll bring a flask with me.”
A couple of hours later, we were at my parents’ house, although it was technically also my house. My mom and dad had hugged me breathless and ushered me in like I’d been gone for two years, not two weeks.
Coffee and pastries appeared in my hands like magic, and I wasn’t about to turn them down. I wasn’t sure what Nic had said to them, but they talked to me about everything except my trip to New York.
I appreciated it. They would get the story eventually, but I was too raw and wrung out to relive it all again. It made me feel so naïve, ashamed of getting tricked.
As we talked, Mom got excited out of nowhere. “Oh, honey, I just remembered. I ran into Mrs. Fletcher the other day. You remember your old English teacher?”
“Of course, she was my drama teacher too.”
“Well, we got to talking about you,” Mom said. “She thought it was a shame you were out of town. They’re looking for volunteers for this year’s Christmas play. You should give her a call.”
CHAPTER 31
LUKE
Iconsidered not going back to Texas for Christmas, but I didn’t want to break the promise I had made to my mother. She was so excited to have the whole family together for the holidays. I didn’t want to disappoint her the way I’d disappointed Clara.
No more hurting people I cared about.
Since I didn’t have work, I figured there was no reason to stick around in the city. Without Clara around, my penthouse felt like a tomb. I was a lonely ghost, haunting the hallways, groaning over my lost love.
Thoughts like that were the exact reason I shouldn’t be alone right then. My thoughts were getting bleak. Any second, I would start writing emo poetry. I might even dig out my acoustic guitar from the closet and see if I remembered any sad songs.
I booked a flight to Texas before I could descend into a full-blown breakdown. We would be leaving in a couple of hours. One of the perks of flying private was that they accommodated my schedule. I didn’t have to worry about airline schedules and delays, overbooked flights, or getting felt up at security.
My eagerness to get back to Harrison City had nothing to do with Clara, who just happened to be there instead of New York.If I just so happened to run into her, then so be it. The town wasn’t that big. No one could say I was stalking her.
I couldn’t go looking for her, though, as much as I wanted to. Finding her wouldn’t be too difficult. There were only a few places she could be after losing her apartment. She was either living at her parents’ house or staying with Nic. Maybe she could be at her friend Jessie’s place.
But I promised myself I wouldn’t track her down. She had asked for space and I had no choice but to honor that request. It would kill me to do so, but my feelings weren’t important right then. All I cared about was Clara. Whatever she needed, I wanted to give it to her, even if it meant depriving myself of happiness.
I didn’t know if that was true love, sacrificing my own joy for someone else’s, but Clara was the first woman who had made me feel that way. In the past, women were fleeting, replaceable. I hung out with them while things were fun, but the moment they became a pain in my ass, I moved on without looking back.
With Clara, all I could do was look back at what we had. She had been a pain in my ass but in an endearing way. Her quirks made me fall for her deeper, rather than making me lose interest.
We’d only spent two weeks together, but they had been amazing, maybe the best of my life. I’d had plenty of highs over the years—when I got drafted to a pro football team after college, when I learned to walk again after destroying my knee, when I went on air for the first time to comment on a game. Spending time with Clara eclipsed all those things.
It was an odd thought, and the best I could figure was that all those things felt like my past, while Clara felt like my future.
Or she could have been if I’d told her the whole truth from the beginning. So why hadn’t I just been honest with her?
That question repeated on a loop in my head, still taunting me even as I boarded the private plane. The other seats were all empty, which was a troubling trend in my post-Clara life. With her gone, all the empty spaces she’d filled in gaped like throbbing wounds. I missed her dearly.
