Geoff gives me an encouraging smile. “Yes. I’m sure Cat will—”
“To New Zealand.”
His face falls. “Oh, no. Oh, please don’t. I know this feels shitty right now, but things will get better.”
I swallow as tears fill my eyes again.
“I promise things will get better. Don’t leave.” He hugs me again, tighter. “Besides, what would the bookstore do without you?”
I give him a watery smile. As much as I love working there, that’s the least of my problems now.
“Get some sleep,” he says, standing and gathering a pillow and blankets for me. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”
He takes my hands and hauls me up off the sofa, then sets about pulling out the sofa bed and making it up while I stand there numbly. With another hug, Geoff pads to bed, flicking the lights off as he leaves. An eerie glow falls over the room, cast by the street light outside the window. I shiver as I peel my clothes off and pull on my pajamas. I haven’t had a chance to do my laundry since getting back from the cabin, and my clothes smell like Michael after spending so much time wrapped up in his arms. As I climb onto Geoff’s sofa bed, my heart hurts so much I can’t sleep. Instead, I just curl up in the darkness and sob into the pillow.
* * *
When my eyesopen the next morning, there’s a blissful moment where I don’t yet remember what has happened. But as I gaze around Geoff’s apartment, it all comes screaming back to me.
The week at the cabin with Michael, his kisses on my lips, his hands on my skin. Him telling me he’s falling for me, then telling me to give up my writing, making me feel stupid about my parents, comparing me to his nasty ex-wife.
It was awful, but despite everything, misery settles over me when I think about the fact that I told him it was over. And lying here now, alone, I physicallyachewith missing him.
Did I make a huge mistake?
No. Because all I have to do is remind myself of his words, and bile rises in my throat. How could he know me at all? And how could he care about me, if he can’t care about what matters to me?
God, I was deluded, believing I could have a happily ever after with him. Of course it was just a fantasy. Everything with Michael felt too good to be true. I just didn’t want to see it until it was too late.
I prop myself up on my elbows. The sofa bed squeaks beneath me and I let out a weighted sigh. Because I didn’t just lose Michael yesterday. I lost Cat and my apartment. And maybe, I also lost my fledgling career.
Pulling myself up, I grab some fresh clothes and head to the bathroom. I’m weak with gratitude when I see Geoff has left a towel out for me. I don’t know what I’d do without him.
I step under the stream of water and rinse myself, determined to find a way out of this mess. Things might not have worked out with Michael, but that doesn’t mean my life is over. In fact, now that Michael’s gone, Icouldwrite the column for Justin—if Mel hasn’t already ruined that opportunity for me. It might not have come about exactly as I wanted, but the important thing here is that I need to do what’s right for me. And that’s putting my writing first.
My mind drifts to the fight with Cat as I scrub. I so desperately want to talk to her again and explain myself more clearly. I said everything in the heat of the argument; no wonder she didn’t believe me. And if she went to Mel afterward, Mel would have simply denied it. But I know if I can explain myself calmly and rationally, Cat will have to listen to me.
And then another thought occurs to me. If Catdidtalk to Mel after I left, then Mel will know I told Cat about Mark. And that will make Mel even more determined to hurt me. If she thinks I not only hooked up with her ex-husband but also tried to turn her best friend against her, she would have no reasonnotto convince Justin to rescind his offer. She would set out to destroy me.
My gut roils as I step out of the shower, processing this. There’s a very good chance, then, that Mel has in fact told Justin everything. And knowing her storytelling abilities, I imagine it’s a rather embellished version of what happened. She’s probably in tears in Justin’s office right now, telling him what a monster I am and how stupid they’ve been to trust me.
And, if that’s the case, I’ve lost the opportunity to write the column. And that means that, now, I’ve lost everything that matters to me here in New York.
I try to ignore the anxiety tightening across my chest as I pull my dress and tights on. When I catch sight of myself in the mirror, I pause. The girl gazing back at me is the girl that’s always been there: the one from the small town who wasted years in a dead-end job, dreaming of happily ever after, with nothing to show for any of it. She’s still there, only now she’s in New York.
I throw a bitter laugh at my reflection. Why did I think that coming here would be any different? How on earth did I think that being in a different city would magically make me a different person? What kind of wishful thinking is that?
Biting back tears, I shuffle into the living room and stuff my pajamas back into my suitcase. I pick up my phone to check the time and there it is: a missed call.
From Justin.
My stomach plunges. There’s no voicemail, but it doesn’t matter. Because there’s only one reason he would be calling me this early. Mel’s been in touch with him.
I stare at the screen, tears stinging my throat. Well, that’s it. I’ve lost everything I’ve worked for with my writing. I’ve lost Cat. And I’ve lost Michael.
There’s only one thing left to do. It’s the only sensible thing anyone in my position would do.
I gather my suitcases, scribble Geoff a note to thank him for everything, and head out onto the street, hailing a cab to the airport.
