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He’d been an idiot, going around and declaring his love for her, planning their future, buying a damn engagement ring.

Sam was crushed, mortified. He sat in it, feeling every uncomfortable emotion. He was finally feeling the pain of a broken heart.

He turned off the water, but continued to sit. He felt hollow, emptied out. Grey fog seemed to float around him. The world appeared dull. Not like it had in the meadow. In the meadow, the world was magical, like he could see every colour at once. Now, he just felt tired and grey. And empty.

Her cardigan was hanging over the back of the chair in the corner of the room. She’d left a hair tie on the bedside table. Was this all he had left of her? Just a few momentos? The thought of that made his heart crack right down the middle. Crossing the room, he tried to stop himself, but he couldn’t help it. Picking up her cardigan, he lifted it up to his face. It smelt like her. That floral, citrus scent that floated around her. He felt so desperate, at the peak of cringe.

Would he forget her one day? Forget her face? Her eyes? He could never forget the colour of her eyes. That cornflour blue, almost purple.

He’d never be able to go back to the meadow again.

Sam wallowed in the self pity. He finally understood it. He’d never liked country music much because it seemed to him that the only things the men sang about were beer and heartache. He’d understood the beer part, but the heartbreak had never really made sense to him. Until now.

He couldn’t forget her. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to hear a sad country song and connect with the lyrics. He had to fix this. But he needed some time.

Sam pulled an overnight bag out of his wardrobe and chucked some clothes in. He swiped his toothbrush from the bathroom. He’d drive up to Brisbane and stay with Lucas while he thought of a plan. After sending Lucas a text, he decided to turn his phone off. He wanted to speak to Hazel when he was sure of what he wanted to say. Sam knew that if she called, he wouldn’t have the strength not to answer. And there was no way he could let this mess get screwed up any further.

Hazel listened to the voicemail again.

Uh, Hazel. By you declining my call, I think it’s safe to say you’ve made your decision. I don’t want to be an option. Good luck with the new job.

She felt her phone fall from her grasp, landing at her feet. She stared ahead, the cars in front of her outlined slightly by the dim streetlights.

He was angry, but there was more. A sadness, as if he had already accepted she’d made a choice. But she hadn’t. She had not said yes. She’d gone along with it over the phone, because she’d panicked. It was a default reaction.

Hazel closed her eyes, squinting them tight in frustration, but also trying to keep any tears at bay.

Before she spoke to him, she needed to be completely clear about what she wanted to do. She reached down and picked up her phone, putting it on the passenger seat. Pulling the car into gear, Hazel reversed and drove out of the car park. She had no idea where she was going, but she knew she needed to think.

Up and down, back and forth, high tide, low tide.

She made a mental list of the pros and cons for staying or going. The pros on the staying list far outweighed going.

If she stayed, would she regret not taking the job at Cloud? No. The thought was immediate. Even if things didn’t work out with Sam, she didn’t think she would regret staying.

If she took the job, would she regret leaving? The ache that settled in her chest told her the answer. She wouldn’t have her mum, her friends. Her business. Sam.

The position at Cloud was a great opportunity. But that’s all it was. There was no guarantee she’d succeed there, no guarantee she’d like it. And the thought of being alone in a big city was horrifying. She needed her family and friends around her.

It was almost midnight. The tides had turned, unified at last.

She’d made her choice. Now, she needed to plead her case. She had to talk to Sam, explain it all. She needed to tell him she was staying.

But she was also furious with him. She hadn’t forgotten how he’d used past tense. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, she assumed it was the anger talking and that he didn’t really feel that way. And if he did, then screw him. But she was staying here. Bells was her home first.

Hazel looked at the road in front of her. It was so dark. The moon was slim, a tiny crescent in the indigo sky. She wasn’t sure where she was. She’d been paying attention to the road, but not where she was going. She thumbed the menu on the screen above the centre console and pressed on the map icon. She was surprised to see the turnoff for Sam’s street was just up ahead. Hazel must have been driving towards him all this time. She knew it was late, but if he felt as shattered as she did, he was probably still awake.

Pulling into his driveway, her heart dropped when she saw his truck wasn’t there. The lights were off, the house dark.

Hazel eased into the brakes, and she grabbed her phone. Finding his name at the top of her list, she dialled.

Straight to voicemail.

Waiting a few moments before trying again, Hazel wondered if he had switched his phone off. When her call went straight to voicemail for the third time, she knew. It was off.

She left him a message and sent a text, asking him to call her.

Hazel could feel her heart slowly start to crack. Choosing Sam wasn’t supposed to be like this. She had made her final decision, and the one thing she had been trying to avoid was happening in real time. Her heart was breaking.