CHAPTER1
The rain’s soothing dribble against the window is the only thing keeping me calm as my finger hovers over the mouse.Just click it,I repeat to myself, over and over again, trying to ignore the frantic thumping of my heart against my ribcage.You know you’ve got to do this.
Blinking back at me on my laptop’s screen is the final step of the booking process for Glendale Beach Resort’s oceanfront single cottage. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, but the slight trembling of my fingertips and single bead of sweat on my forehead tells another story.
“Goddammit, why does everything have to be so hard?” I sigh as I push the laptop away from my thighs. Ever since Dad left, it seems like I’ve been asking myself this question more and more often.
I quickly look around my living room/kitchen/dining room. From the window to my left, several office windows light up the evening at the next-door Concordia University building, where people I assume to be professors are nervously typing and staring back at their own monitors.
If they were to glance at the run-down twelve-storey apartment building to their right, there’s a chance they’d see me echo their own anxious existence.
I don’t know why I bother, but I move my finger away from the keyboard and pick up my phone instead. Who knows—maybe Dad will pick up this time and give me the encouraging push I need.
The ringtone echoes against my ear, and my breath halts in anticipation. Maybe this time…
It’s been an entire month since Dad stopped responding to my calls, which so happens to be the same amount of time since Jasper dumped me. In fact, Dad hasn’t responded to anything I’ve sent him since that day. Worse still, he hasn’tseenmy DMs on social media, which means he hasn’t even logged on in months.
The first time he didn’t answer—when I called him in tears about Jasper dumping me—I didn’t get too worried. I cried out my broken heart alone, and I was pissed, of course, but nothing more. Plus, I’d called Sophie, my best friend, right afterward, and she’d rushed to my place with her newborn baby and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream in tow. After all, Dad works a lot, so he could have been in an important meeting or something.
At 9 p.m. Sure. That’s what I told myself back then, at least.
But when he still didn’t respond to any of my calls, texts, or DMs throughout the following week, that’s when my anxiety rightfully took over. I can’t just pop by his place for a quick wellness check. Ever since he divorced Mom about two years ago, he’s been living in Colombia—the same place he works. Mom never wanted us to move outside of Canada for his work, and he finally got to do it after cutting us loose.
The phone continues ringing. At least I know he’s alive. Andrea, his new girlfriend, responded to my DMs when I frantically messaged her about Dad. But she doesn’t know a word of English or French, and I don’t speak any Spanish, so our Google Translate-powered communication has been a bit muddy.
My heart stops in my chest when I hit Dad’s voicemail again.Should have seen that coming, a voice grumbles in my head. I don’t bother leaving a message, deciding to hang up instead.
“Okay, Avery,” I say to myself while falling back onto my couch. “Enough self-pity for tonight.” I whoosh out a breath, grab the laptop again, and in a single move, I pressConfirm Booking.
There. It’s official. I’ll be spending the next month on the ocean shores of Cape Breton.
Alone.
Obviously.
I try to ease into the couch, but my shoulders feel too tight. I can’t seem to get comfortable. The truth is, I want more than anything to get out of this apartment where every inch of space reminds me of Jasper, but the idea of spending an entire month alone has my heart in a vice grip.
Well, alone or not, it’s what I need. And it’s booked now. Can’t take it back.
A sudden knock at the door jars me from the reverie of my spectacular accomplishment. I put a hand to my racing heart, which has never liked being startled. Oh, right. I told Sophie she could come over whenever she was ready.
“It’s open,” I say, my voice shaking slightly.
Sophie barges in, carrying a bag I now know as the ‘Comfort Tote’ in her slender arms. If the past month is any indication, she’ll have filled this thing to the brim with chocolates, nail polish and accessories, face masks, and anything else she thinks I’ll need for an evening of support with her. A zealous look of overexcitement twinkles in her big blue eyes.
She enters my tiny apartment, shuts the door behind her, and opens her mouth as if she’s about to exclaim something, then stops as her eyes lock onto mine.
“You okay, hun?” she asks in a worried hush.
I take a deep breath to steady the shakes that have overcome my entire body. “Oh, no big deal,” I say nonchalantly. “Just spent $4,000 on a seaside cabin in Cape Breton.”
Sophie’s already wide eyes go even wider. “Excuse me?” She takes two gigantic strides towards me with her effortlessly long legs.
I stand up to meet her face-to-face and help with her bags. She towers over me. “Do you think it was a mistake?” I ask without meeting her gaze. I don’t know why I even ask, considering she doesn’t know my reasons for going in the first place.
Once Sophie’s arms are free from the onslaught of shopping bags, she crashes onto my couch, frowning. “When did you book it for? What are you gonna do? Who are you going with?” She knows I don’t intend to invite her. Not that I wouldn’t want to, but Sophie’s youngest daughter, Heather, is barely four months old. It’s definitely not the time for her to escape to Nova Scotia for a month with me.
I cringe in anticipation and shift my eyes to my interlocked fingers. “Monday. And … I’m going alone.”
