I twist my hands together, anticipation bubbling up.“I haven’t decided if I will.”
“Oh?”
“I might try something new.I don’t have to have my entire life figured out yet, right?”
I flush and scan the crowd.Still no sign of Clay.
“You certainly don’t.”Harlan sounds thoughtful.
I reach for my phone to see if there are any texts.
Nothing.
“Nova…”
“Sorry.”I tuck the phone away.“I just?—”
I look at the slip of paper in Harlan’s hand.“What is that?”
Instead of a guestbook, Harlan and Mari had people write on sheets of paper and slip them into a box with their hopes or advice for the couple.
“Is that my name?”I ask, spotting the handwriting on the half-folded sheet.
Harlan’s face tightens.In my happy, buzzed state, I reach for it without waiting for a response.
The moment I feel the paper against my fingers, I have the sudden impulse to give it back.
“It’s time to do the sparklers!”Brooke shouts, descending from nowhere with a handful of the things.
She shoves them into my free hand, and I nod quickly.“I’ll be right there!”
“Hurry up.Miles almost burned his hands off the last time he tried to do this.We need as much supervision as possible.”
“Thank you for everything,” Harlan murmurs.“We’re here for you.No matter what.”He squeezes my arm and walks away as I unfold the letter.
Dear Nova, it starts.
My throat tightens by the time I read the first sentence.
After the second paragraph, I’m shaking my head.
When I reach the third, my knees give out.
The staircase breaks my fall, my shoulder hitting the banister.
My eyes burn, making the lights blur together.
I force myself to read through to the end.
But even before I get there, I know the truth.
Clay isn’t coming.
Not tonight.
Not ever.
He made his choice.
