“How long are you staying here?” I asked. I hated that he was, but I knew he would. His eyes wouldn’t meet mine.
“A few more days. Figured some space would be good. Figure things out on my own.”
I pursed my lips apologetically.
“I’m so sorry, Jake. I never wanted to hurt you. Ever. You were the best thing to happen to me. An angel that came into my life right when I needed him. You’re… perfect.”
He just nodded, not like he understood. Not like he accepted. He nodded like a man who had lost and could only leave as himself. He looked down at his feet as he gnawed on his cheek.
“Not perfect enough, though.” The brokenness in his voice ripped me to shreds. My breathing hitched, and my chest tightened at the sight of the man I had ruined. The confidence I had stripped from him. The horrible way I left him in turmoil to rebuild his life alone. He deserved so much more than that.
For the first time, I wished I had never met Jake. Not because I didn’t want him, but because he was worth so much more than what I could give him. He deserved to be loved in a way that moved mountains and formed valleys in its wake. He deserved a grand love that was pure of heart and true of soul. Not my love, which was broken and tattered and barely there to start. All mine did was destroy him.
“Jake, you were always perfect enough. I just… couldn’t accept that I had given my heart away a long, long time ago. It was never fair to only give you the scraps. And I didn’t realize that was all I ever had left, until it was too late.”
We stared at each other in the quiet, desolate hallway for a long, aching moment, memorizing the last view we’d ever have of each other. He leaned his head back and took a deep breath. It was time for goodbye.
“I know I said it already, but it’s not enough…” I wiped away tears. “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” he breathed.
“I understand if you hate me—”
“I don’t hate you, Sydney. I don’t… understand,” he released a deep breath, looking away before his eyes found mine again. “I don’t understand how we got here, or what happened, but… I don’t know that it matters anymore.”
I nodded, my belly rocking with mourning.
“Do you think you’ll move back to Jersey?”
He gave me a tight-lipped grin that didn’t reach his eyes in the warm way I was used to. I wondered if it ever would again.
“I think I’ll hang back in Austin for a bit.”
I nodded because I already knew. I would’ve done the same.
He pulled me in for one last hug, a firm, lingering farewell, and then he turned without looking back, disappearing behind the apartment door of his Airbnb. That was the last time I’d ever see him. My Mr. Perfect. My Raft. The one who kept me afloat during my biggest storms. The one who held me above the waves of my own mess of a life. I would never know him again—my Jake.
I walked back down the long, dim hallway, into the elevator, and slid into the backseat of the cab waiting outside. It drove me the full hour from Kings Beach toReno-Tahoe International Airport, North Lake Tahoe fading into a memory I would have to let go of.
I boarded my flight in silence and settled into my seat, still wired with nerves from all that had happened and all that was to come. Emotions swam through me in a steady rush—heartache, grief, loss… relief. I sat in the quiet storm of it for five whole hours. I wasn’t sure I’d be stable when the time came, but when the plane finally landed, I walked off with a fire in my veins, a mission in my soul, and a single letter pounding in my chest.
It was finally time to get my man.
And nothing—not friends we owed our loyalty to, not relationships we forced ourselves to stay in out of guilt or obligation, not some made-up idea of perfection I thought I needed, not even time—was going to stop me.
Track 20
“Wanna Be with You”
-Earth, Wind & Fire, 1981
I WAS OPERATING on nothing but instinct and adrenaline. I hadn’t slept in almost two days by the time I pulled up to E’s. My phone was dead, and I probably looked like a travel-worn mess with my frantic movements and my curly hair in its loose ponytail that kept coming undone, but I didn’t give a damn.
I had traveled from Texas to Northern California and across the country to New Jersey in less than forty-eight hours, and I still had enough energy to run a whole marathon if I had to—and we’ve already established how I feel about running.
It was early evening when I arrived at his apartment building, I knew because the sun was low but not low enough to set. I had no idea if he was home, and I had no way to tell him I was there, but as fate would have it, I wouldn’t need to.
The main door to the building swung open effortlessly, as if it had been waiting for me all that time. The elevator opened at my first push of the button, and seconds later, I was standing before his door, at apartment 402.
