“I want you to think about everything that happened today, and to accept it, and then I need you to forget me.”
“Forget you,” he repeated in a hollow voice.
“I can leave tomorrow if it’ll be easier.”
“Nah,” he said. “You stay. I can make it easier. Wait there, let me get your door.”
The burning in her eyes turned to twin steaming tears on her cheeks and she hung her head, so confused by the emotions swirling inside of her chest.
There was no one like Lance, but she couldn’t get deeper with him. She’d seen the way he’d looked at her after her Change back. Even if they lived in the same part of the country, he was human, and she was a shifter, and they were different.
They were not meant to be. Simple as that.
They’d just gotten all swept up in the excitement of it all.
They’d both made a mistake.
He opened her door and offered his hand to help her out. And for the last time, she touched his warm skin. The snow crunched loudly under her bare feet as she made her way toward Lodge 9, and as she looked at Lance, he was pulling away, headed for Lodge 10. They would be next door from each other, but it might as well be in different universes.
The hollowness inside of her enveloped her completely. He turned toward her and forced a small smile. God, he looked so handsome here in the snowfall. She dedicated this moment to memory. He’d left his soccer bag in the truck and stood there with his hands shoved deep into jean pockets. He wore a tight, white long sleeve shirt, and a gray beanie to ward off the cold. His eyes were so green in the light from his porch.
She’d never met anyone even remotely close to Lance. Even now, as she let him go, he was being kind to her.
He pursed his lips into a smile and gave a two-fingered wave.
Goodbye.
She ripped her gaze away from him and forced herself to go inside of her cabin, so she could fall apart.
The time on the clock said it was 2:25 in the morning.
Valentine’s Day, officially.
She curled onto the couch and drew her knees up to her chest.
She missed him already.
This was, hands-down, the worst Valentine’s Day, or UnValentine’s Day…ever.
Chapter Nine
The sound of Lance’s truck engine woke her.
Birdie had been up most of the night, unable to sleep as her mind swirled round and round. Lance had left before dawn, and she knew what he was doing. He was going back to his apartment to give them both space from this suffocating thing between them.
She was grateful that he was being considerate, but she hated it at the same time.
She wouldn’t see him anymore and every cell in her body hurt over it.
Not in any way did she understand herself right now.
She wanted to go home. She was ready.
Birdie used the quiet of the early morning hour to pack her things into the purple luggage. She would head to the airport and try to switch her flight and spend it focusing on the travel day instead of being here, where all of her memories of this place revolved around him. Around Lance.
She dragged her suitcases and bags to the front door and made her way up the stairs to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything upstairs. This cabin was truly beautiful. It had been a paradise for a little while. The sheets were still mussed from them being together, and she hadn’t been able to bring herself to sleep up here last night. She’d slept fitfully for an hour on the couch.
Everything had gotten so messed up.
