I could hitchhike, but chances are some sleazy guy worse than Ashford would pick me up.
“What are you thinking?” Cole asked, sitting down beside me.
“What’s past the forest. I’m not all that good with geography,” I answered.
She hummed.
“Wait here,” she instructed and got back up.
I watched as she entered the cabin and opened her suitcase, retrieving a small, shiny white cardboard box.
She sat back down next to me and handed it to me.
“What’s this?” I asked. The box had a bit of weight to it.
“I thought maybe it could be useful,” she told me.
I found the edge of the box and pulled it open.
A phone.
I could feel her waiting for a reaction. How ungrateful would she think me if I told her that he’d just take it from me?
Three years ago, I’d have been turning it on, setting it up, straight onto social media, ready to scroll my life away. But I didn’t miss endless feeds. Or all the pointless noise. I missed notifications of messages, stories and photos from the people I thought cared about me. Maybe I just missed who I was.
“Thanks,” I said and set the box aside.
“It’s got my number in the contacts,” she told me.
I laughed. A mix of self-deprecation and disbelief.
“I told you, you don’t have to pretend,” I reminded her.
“Harriet, I want to be able to make sure you’re okay,” she said.
“I’m sorry—either you’re an idiot or you think I am,” I told her and stood up.
“This is difficult for me too,” she said, matching my anger.
“Is it? Really?” I asked, my tone mocking.
Cole growled but didn’t reply.
“You can growl all you want. I’m not intimidated. We’ll be out of each other’s lives soon anyway. Why are we even dragging it?” I challenged, anger heating my chest. “You should take me back to him now. He’s around here somewhere, right?”
Cole stepped towards me, and I backed up until I was crossing the threshold and back inside the cabin.
She followed me, sliding the door shut behind her, without even turning to look, her eyes on me.
“Is that what you want?” she asked, cornering me when the back of my knees hit the couch.
“I want this to be over,” I told her.
I wanted to get rid of the mix of dread and anxiety that made me nauseous.
And I’d rather feel the pain of her abandonment for real than live in a worse limbo, being reminded every moment that she didn’t want me.
That even being true mates wasn’t enough for her to choose me.
