Everything with Wren and me aside, I can’t forget why I sought him out in the first place, or the promise I made to find the answers my dad couldn’t. I need to know if that letter we found isreal and whether or not there’s more to find. And I can’t do that on my own.
“I still don’t know for sure who she was. I can’t walk away until I do.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I could either.” He almost smiles, but it’s the kind of smile that feels like a wave breaking too far out, barely touching the shore before it pulls back. Then his gaze lowers to the computer screen almost gratefully when the login prompt appears.
The clacking of the keyboard is the only thing I hear as I fold and refold the shirt even though I know it’s going to get tossed into a bag. The POS software initializes, running its checks, connecting to the barcode scanner and receipt printer with a few soft beeps. The familiar sounds should settle my nerves a bit, grounding me in the perfectly fine and professional routine.
Instead everything echoes miserably.
“Is this really how it’s going to be between you and me from now on?” I lift my gaze to Wren’s. “Because I don’t think I can keep doing this.”
Wearily he says, “You can go find Tate and your sister.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
“What do you want me to say, Lili?” His voice cracks, just a little. The sound of my name on his lips feels different now, rougher, like it’s been scraped against something sharp.
I flinch but I can’t stop myself. “I don’t know, but I hate feeling this way and I hate that I hurt Eryn and you. And I know it doesn’t change anything, but I’m so sorry.”
At first I think he’s going to blow me off or even tell me to leave again, but he doesn’t. He looks right at me. “I’m the one at fault here. You didn’t do this”—he raises his voice when I openmy mouth to interrupt him—“and I’m the one who has a girlfriend.”
My heart pounds painfully at the present-tense reference to Eryn. I just assumed they broke up, but only now am I realizing how naive that was. And how wrong it was for me to subconsciously hope they had.
“Or maybe I onlyhada girlfriend. I still don’t know.”
My heart clenches, but I keep my face neutral. “You haven’t talked to her?”
He grabs a pen and twists it in his hand. “I keep trying, but she’s not ready to talk to me yet.”
His head is tilted just slightly forward, and it’s painfully obvious what he wants. “You want her to forgive you.” I have to fight the urge to cry.
“I don’t want her to hate me.”
“I don’t think Eryn could hate anyone.”
His smile doesn’t touch his eyes. “She might make an exception for me.” Then he drops his head before lifting it again. “It’s hard to explain, but we’ve been together for four years.”
“That’s a long time.” Especially considering they aren’t even twenty yet.
“It’s more than the years, it’s everything that happened during that time.” His features twist and his breathing grows heavier. “I didn’t want anyone around after my accident, but she knew I needed her, so she was there, no matter what. She’s always been there for me, and I—it’s not like I owe her, but it would feel like a betrayal of some kind to give up on us, when she never did.”
He falls silent after that, pinning me with an intensity I can’t escape, like he’s willing me to understand something he barelyunderstands himself. “Before you, that had never been hard to do. But, Lili, if—”
“No, don’t, please.” I close my eyes as if that will somehow stop his words. I take a step back until almost the full length of the counter is between us. He’s not moving toward me or even reaching out in my direction, but I still feel the need for the added physical distance between us. “I don’t need you to say anything else. In fact, I’m asking you not to.” My eyes trace over him, instinctively taking in the way his dark hair curls just a little at the edges, the conflict in his eyes as they dart away from mine. And then his jaw. It’s tight, a warning, like he’s on the edge of saying something that would ruin us both. “I understand, more than you know, but I can’t hear you say it, okay?” I don’t think I could handle that.
I hurry off in search of Tate and Goldie before the ache in my ribs becomes any harder to breathe through. I know I don’t have a right to want Wren to choose me, but it still hurts to know he won’t.
Thirty-One
Wren
The day dragged after Lili and her sister left. The museum felt empty despite all the guests, especially when Tate wandered off too. We’ve exchanged a few words, but as long as Eryn is avoiding me—and by extension, him—things aren’t going to be okay between us.
Eryn hasn’t answered my texts or voicemails, and every time I try to catch her at the café, her coworkers give me the same excuse: She’s busy, can’t leave the kitchen. I keep going back, though. I don’t know what else to do.
And I miss her. I miss the way she would smile at me like I was the only one in the room who mattered. I miss how excited she got watching someone try a dessert she made for the first time. But more than that, I miss the space she used to occupy in my life, a space that now feels eerily hollow. It’s as if I’ve forgotten how to breathe.
That night, I stay later than usual at the museum. I don’t want to rush home, where the silence is too loud and my thoughts are too heavy. So, when I finally leave, it’s well past closing. I drive by the café, hoping to catch a glimpse of Eryn through the windows,but instead of seeing her inside, I spot her outside—her shoulders hunched, the soft amber light of the streetlamps casting a warm glow around her. She’s wiping down the tables, but her movements are sluggish, almost mechanical. She drags her hand across the surface of the table with an exhaustion I’ve never seen in her before, her face drained of its usual spark, a hollow look in her eyes that cuts deeper than I’d expect.
