Ronan flinched.
Bree sucked air with a long, gasping sound. “It’s time to face reality. There is no path here. There is no happily ever after. There is no choice I can make that ends with me being able to stay with all three of you.”
Pick one. The thought hit and was discarded just as easily. It wouldn’t be possible, and I would not put that kind of weight on her. We were an all or nothing group. She knew that going in, and we’d accepted it.
Ronan wiped a hand down his face, clearing the tears before Bree turned.
But Finn and I saw. We saw and we broke for him and for ourselves. I’d never loved anyone the way I loved Bree.
Could I love her and let her walk away?
I had to. She deserved to be happy too, and this town made her miserable.
“I love you.” I cupped her face and kissed her one last time. “I will always love you.”
“I’m sorry the people here are so shitty.” Finn hugged and kissed her. “I don’t want you to go, Bree. You’re breaking our hearts.”
“Mine too, but this is how it has to be.” She sobbed but never stopped packing.
33
BREE
Boston welcomed me the way it welcomed everyone. With gray skies, loud and indifferent chaos that sped past without noticing or caring that I’d been gone for three months. My apartment smelled like the lavender diffuser I’d left running on a time and the faint staleness of closed rooms. My stomach churned as I took it all in, all the bits and pieces of my life that sat exactly where I’d left them. From the yellow throw blanket over the arm of the couch, to the novel laying open on the coffee table, and the view out the window that I’d once considered the best view in the world.
None of it mattered anymore.
I set my suitcases in the bedroom and stood in the middle of my living room with my hands on my hips and waited for the feeling hom coming home.
Nothing.
I gave it a week.
Still nothing.
I went back to the office, endured the exuberant welcome home party they threw in my honor, and worked on the stack of projects that Diane had run out of patience for and delegated to me. Emails. Phone calls to vendors. It all came back. Everything I needed…except that one simple feeling that I’d be okay.
Eight hours in an office chair was nothing to the constant ache in my heart.
A soft knock on the open door drew my head up where I’d been staring at the seating arrangement for the Harrington party.
Diane held up two coffee cups. “Brought your favorite.” She didn’t wait for me to answer but strolled over, handed me a cup, and sat across from me. “Close the laptop.”
I closed it.
She crossed her legs, jiggled her foot up and down a few times, and sipped her coffee, watching me over the rim. “Talk.”
“I’m fine.”
“Anyone who starts a conversation with ‘I’m fine’ is never fine.” The look in her eyes dared me to argue, but honestly, I didn’t have the energy. “You’re here in body. I need you to tell m what’s going to bring the rest of you back.”
I looked at my closed laptop and worked on an answer. “I left something in Clover Hill.”
“Mm-hm.” She tightened her grip on the cup. “Something. Or someone?”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. She let me leave it hanging, which was its own answer. We drank our coffee and she told me aboutthe Harrington venue issue that gave me something to focus on besides my brokenness.
By the time I made it home, I’d told myself a dozen times I made the right decision. I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror after washing off my makeup and said it out loud, just to hear the words.
