Callie: Tonight. The shop. After close.
Me: Callie…
Callie: Please.
I should say no. Should tell her it's not a good idea. Should maintain the distance I'm trying to create.
Me: What time?
Callie: Seven.
Me: I'll be there.
I set down the phone and drop my head into my hands.
This is a mistake, I know it's a mistake. But I'm going anyway because the thought of leaving without seeing her one more time is worse than the risk of what might happen.
The afternoon passes slowly. I pack, make arrangements for the cabin, and send emails confirming the Denver job. All of it feels mechanical. As if I'm watching myself move through the motions from somewhere far away.
At six-thirty, I'm in my truck driving to Morning Star Donuts. The streets are quiet. Most businesses are closed for the evening. The sun is setting, painting everything orange and gold.
I park around the corner where Luke won't see my truck if he drives by. Then I walk the block to the shop. The lights are on inside. Through the window I can see Callie wiping down tables.
She looks up when I push open the door. Our eyes meet.
"Hi," she says quietly.
"Hi."
She sets down the rag and comes around the counter. We stand there in the space between the tables and the door. Close enough to touch.Yet neither of us moves.
"You're really leaving," she says.
"Yeah."
"And it's not because of work."
I don't answer. I can't lie to her face.
"Ethan." She steps closer. "Talk to me."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"That's not true."
"Callie." Her name comes out rough. "Don't."
"Don't what? Don't ask you to be honest? Don't point out that you're leaving because you can't handle being around me?"
"I can handle it."
"Can you?" She's close now, too damn close. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're running away."
"I'm creating distance."
"Same thing."
"It's not." I take a breath. "If I stay here, something's going to happen. Something we'll both regret."
