I look up at her with a surprised frown. “What are you talking about?”
“Rylee, sweety… I found you sleeping on the toilet seat this morning.” Her tone is gentle and hesitant, but her worry is obvious. “When things get hard or scary, you do this… you drink to avoid dealing with them, and it’s becoming a problem. I’m… I’m concerned about you.”
I feel immediately defensive. Is she calling me an alcoholic? I’m not an alcoholic.
“You’re reading too much into that,” I tell her with a shake of my head. “It’s fine. I have it under control.”
Grace looks far from convinced, however. Reaching out, she grabs my hand and squeezes it.
“I just want to be there for you,” she murmurs. “I’m here if you ever need help.”
“I know. I appreciate it, Grace. Really, I do.”
But even she can’t help me now. Not with my real problems - my broken heart and soul-crushing disappointment.
I don’t know if anyone can help me with those, so it’s for the best that I go home and leave this pain behind me.
As if she can read my mind, she murmurs, “You’re still going to leave, aren’t you?”
I nod. “Yeah… I’ve been planning on going home to see Mom for Thanksgiving anyway. I might as well just stay.” At her crestfallen expression, I quickly add, “Hey, don’t worry. I was always going home, right? This is just moving the timeline up a bit.”
She looks like she wants to argue about this further, but she shakes her head and replies, “All right… I suppose I can’t blame you. I’m going to miss you a ton, though.”
“I’ll miss you too.”
She lets the matter drop, finally, and we eat breakfast before she takes off. Once I’m alone again, still feeling like hot dogshit, I go for the vodka thinking a little bit will help me not feel like death warmed over. Unfortunately, when I find the bottle, it’s empty, so in addition to my broken heart and disappointment, I’m stuck feeling like my skull is going to split open and my stomach could rebel at any moment.
Fuck this. Fuck Zander.
It’s time to get the hell out of Denver.
A few days later, I am ready to head to the airport to fly home. It’s the week of Thanksgiving, and I’m looking forward to spending the holiday with my Mom… Aiden, shockingly, is unable to make it.
Just more men in my life disappointing me over and over again.
I’ve spent the last two days packing, making my travel arrangements, and pretty much avoiding everyone. I haven’t even been in the mood for another girls’ night. Mom’s been texting me, but I’ve only sent back one word replies, not wanting her to know anything that’s happened. The last thing I need is her not-so-subtle I told you so about falling for another guy who fell short.
She doesn’t even know I’m planning on staying home after Thanksgiving.
My luggage is already in my rental car, so I quickly scoop up Gizmo and put him into his carrier. He struggles to get free, but I manage to wrestle him inside.
“Calm down, baby,” I tell him with a sigh. “It’ll be okay. You’ve done this before. Why are you fighting so much?”
He lets out a loud meow. It’s like he doesn’t want to leave.
“We’re going home, Gizmo. Don’t you want to go home?”
He meows angrily again, so I guess that’s a no.
“Well, tough,” I grumble. “We can’t stay here any longer, okay? I’ve said goodbye to the girls already and we’ve got no more reason to be here.”
He just gives me a glare through the mesh covering of the carrier.
Rolling my eyes, I pick it up and head out of the apartment, shutting the door and locking it behind me.
He growls softly as I make my way to the elevator and ride it down to the building’s garage. When the elevator doors slide open and I step out into the garage, I freeze at the sight of Zander standing near my car.
Heart hammering, I look around, instinctively trying to find an escape, but I catch myself and force my gaze back to his.
