“Have fun?” I met his eyes for as long as I could, putting all my effort into trying not to look pathetic. Because I did not want him feeling guilty about leaving me.
This had been a fling. Nothing more.
At this point, calling it a fling felt like a stretch.
He stood slowly, hesitating. His hand brushed the back of my chair.
“Right.”
He moved around the table. Hugs and goodbyes were exchanged, a chorus of “Be safe!” and “Can’t wait to see your pictures!”
The entire time, a low thundering built in my ears. Distant and dull.
Then it was my turn.
I stood. Stepped into his arms. Let myself breathe him in. Held on longer than I should have. Let go before I wanted to.
And then… he was gone.
The second he walked away from the table, I felt it.
People watching me. Feeling sorry for me.
But I stayed frozen. Staring at the empty space where Noah had just been.
Smiling like I couldn’t feel the floor cracking under my feet.
It was fine.
Really.
I sat there for a few more minutes, trying to pretend I was still part of the conversation. That I was listening to Ed ramble about blackjack odds and Marla talk about canyon sunsets. But the voices around me were tinny and far away.
My chest felt tight, like something was squeezing it.
“Excuse me,” I said, standing. “I think I’m going to turn in early.”
I didn’t wait for anyone to object. And even though I felt Babs watching me, I couldn’t meet her eyes. I just…couldn’t.
I placed my napkin on the table, murmured something that might have sounded like goodnight, and walked—carefully, deliberately—out of the dining room.
I had to be careful. It was like I’d had too much to drink and was going to trip and fall any second.
Once inside the elevator, I pressed the button to my floor and let my head fall back against the wall.
It was a fling.
It wasn’t supposed to be anything.
He didn’t choose to leave. Not really.
I made it to my room. Locked the door behind me. And then I just stood there. In the dark.
For all the healing I thought I’d done—letting go of Leo, reclaiming myself, rediscovering what fun felt like on this ridiculous bus tour—I was surprised by how much this hurt. How deep it went.
I had thought I was getting better.
But now, alone in this hotel room in the middle of the desert, wearing the dress I’d put on when I’d felt like I was going out on a first date, I suddenly felt incredibly… stupid.
