“I don’t want to leave you.” I sob.
“I know. And I don’t want you to leave. But this isn’t about what we want right now. It’s about what you need.” He kisses my forehead. “Go have your girls’ trip. Process everything. And then ...” He lets his hand drop.
“And then what?”
“We’ll see, I guess.” He leans in and kisses me softly.
My heart feels like it’s being ripped out as I watch him walk out of the bedroom. He says goodbye to the girls, and then the door slams shut behind him. I fall into a mess on the floor.
“Hey.” The girls come in, concerned about my crying.
“He’s gone.”
“Who Chett?” Maggie asks.
I shake my head. “Jax.”
My sister looks confused, and Riley gives me a hug. “I’m sorry, boo.”
“I like him.” I cry to her.
“I know you do, babe. And I totally understand why, the man is hot, but …”
“My life is a mess.” I sniffle.
“That’s putting it mildly.” She hugs me again.
“I’m sure he’s a nice guy, but do you think now is the time to be starting something with someone?” Maggie asks.
“Mags. Read the room,” Riley chastises her.
My sister’s right. Maybe starting something less than a week after calling off my wedding isn’t a smart idea.
“Come on, let’s get to the other cabin, and we can drown our sorrows in a nice bottle of wine,” Riley says. I nod.
14
SLOANE
Day one of the girls’ trip starts with wine and ends with more wine. The cabin I originally booked is bigger than Jax’s emergency shelter with nicer and newer appliances, better furniture, and a gigantic stone fireplace, not the small one we had. It should feel like an upgrade. Instead, it just feels empty.
“Okay,” Riley announces, setting three wine glasses on the coffee table. “Ground rules for this week. One: No contact with Chett. I don’t care if he texts, calls, or sends smoke signals. We ignore him. Two: No wallowing. We process, we vent, we plan, but we don’t wallow. Three: We actually leave this cabin at some point because I didn’t drive hours to stare at wood paneling.”
“I like the wood paneling,” I mumble.
“You’re already breaking rule two.” Riley hands me a glass. “Drink.”
Maggie settles onto the couch beside me. “How are you really doing? And don’t say fine.”
“I don’t know.” I take a large gulp of wine. “I just ... I feel like my entire life imploded in the span of a couple of weeks.Two weeks ago, I was engaged. I had a plan. Now I don’t have anything.”
“You have us,” Riley says firmly.
“Riley’s right,” Maggie adds softly. “I know this is scary. But you’re free now. You get to figure out who you are without him telling you who to be.”
“I just wish ...” I trail off, not sure how to finish.
“You wish what?” Riley prompts.
