He stepped in front of me. “We can’t end things like this—”
“Actually, we can. Pretty sure this is what we call a deal breaker.”
“You think I should have picked you over my grandparents? My family? The company?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you made the right choice for you. But you didn’t make the right choice for us. Lies and distrust are no foundation for a relationship.”
“Neither is breaking into someone’s house! But people change.”
“But you didn’t change enough, clearly. You didn’t trust me, or you would have told me.”
“You are so goddamn proud.”
I shrugged.
“What will it take to get over this?”
I quenched my molten anger in ice, turning it hard as tempered steel. “We’re not going to get over this. Look, we had a good run. But we’re done.”
He stared at me. “You’re breaking up with me because of this?”
I shrugged again and wrapped my arms around my stomach. If my shell cracked, I would dissolve into a puddle, which I couldn’t handle right now. I couldn’t put myself back together if I let myself break. Instead, I started to uproot my emotions, pulling back each tendril I’d wrapped tightly around Noah. “We should have known this wouldn’t work. We’re too different.”
He frowned furiously. “You’re scared, Abigail Schoenberg. Scared to really put yourself out there.”
“And you’re confused. You think this is all about you? It’s not.” I pulled the necklace out and gestured with it wildly. “Maybe the happy ending to this summer isn’t a cute little love story but a family heirloom reclaimed.”
We both flinched, gazes locked. Neither of us had used the wordlovebefore.
He stepped closer. “You think you’d be happier without me?”
And because I knew how to aim words like arrows, I said, “Yes. I do.”
“You’re wrong.” His jaw worked. “You’re wrong and you’re too proud to admit it.”
“Well, it doesn’t really matter, does it?” I said, making my tone cold enough to freeze the ocean. “It’s not your call to make.”
“You’ll make yourself miserable, Abigail.” He was cold now, too, chilly as the longest night.
“That’s my choice.”
He cursed low and hard. “We’re not going to be able to see each other again and work this out, you know. My flight’s at ten a.m. tomorrow.”
I shrugged. “Fine.”
“It’s not fine. None of this is fine.” He stared at me. “You’refine?”
If I spoke, I would break, so I only nodded.
He closed off, iced over. “Fine.” He nodded at the necklace. “I hope you’re happy.”
I wanted to hit him with it.
“Goodbye, Abigail.” He turned on his heel and walked back into the house.
I wanted to scream after him. I wanted to hurl the necklace at his head. I wanted to fall into a puddle on the ground and cry and wait until he came back. Because already, I wanted him to come back.
Instead I gathered myself together and looked at my phone. Two more minutes until my car got here. I looked at the moon and tried to breathe.
