I blinked once, and then again, feeling like I was in some sort of staged intervention. Both of them were staring at me with sad, round eyes that were meant to be comforting but offered nothing of the sort.
“No one is forcing me to do anything,” I answered, yanking my hand back from hers.
“We know. We just worry that you put too much stock into what this Dr. Abrams said—that this is the only way for you to move on. I think you just need time to adjust, to get used to this new normal. That doesn’t have to include August.”
Everything she said was lost after the first word left her mouth.
“‘We?’” I asked through my gritted teeth. “Since when are the two of you a we?”
She shot a hesitant glance across to table to Ryan. “Ryan was worried about you,” she explained, while Ryan said quietly next to me, “We both were.”
“So you just decided to talk about me behind my back?”
Her eyes widened with shock. “Honey—it wasn’t like that. We were just concerned.”
“So concerned that you didn’t think to involve me in these little chats?” I was already rising from my seat, my appetite gone. The need to flee grew by the minute as the room turned into a giant vacuum, sucking all the air right out of its center. I couldn’t stand it—the thought of the two of them talking about me, like I was some weak little child.
I was not weak.
I was not powerless.
And I was not going to stand here for one more second.
“I need air,” I managed to say, before I grabbed my keys and purse off the table.
“Everly, please,” Ryan said, touching my shoulder as I made my way to the door.
“So you can speak after all?” I nearly spat, making my way toward the door. I slammed it shut before I could hear another word. They didn’t run after me. They knew my routine. I always ran, always fled.
I’d come back, I always did.
* * *
I should not be here.
I should not be here.
I’d driven all over the city, letting my thoughts wander and wander as I tried to cool my heated temper, but nothing had worked and bit by bit—mile by mile, I’d edged closer and closer to the dark blue sea.
Until I found myself at the cliffs, pulling up to the last place in the world I should be.
Why, when I felt the most alone, did I turn to the person I trusted the least?
I shut off the engine and dimmed the headlights, then I sat in the surrounding darkness, deciding upon my next move.
If I were smart I’d start up the car, back up into the street, and go home.
But tonight—after seeing my best friend and my fiancé gang up against me like some adolescent troublemaker, I was feeling less on the brainy side and bordering on something a bit riskier. Which was probably why I was currently sitting in August’s driveway…contemplating whether I was ever going to get out of my car.
The decision was made for me when a small tapping at my window nearly had me jumping out of my skin. I turned to see August bent over, his hands in his pockets as he took a step back, waiting for me to respond.
I pressed the button to lower the window before realizing I’d already pulled the keys out of the ignition. Taking a steadying breath, I pushed open the door and stepped out, ready to face the decision I’d made by driving here.
“Hi,” I said hesitantly, unable to meet his firm gaze. I instead found a new fascination with the brickwork on the driveway, studying the intricate herringbone pattern that wove beneath my feet.
“Hi,” he replied, mimicking my tone. He didn’t ask why I was there, or expect anything—just stood there, patiently waiting as I moved gravel beneath me. It was then that I noticed his shoes. They were nice—fancier than I’d seen him wear during our excursions around the city—black, shiny…much more reminiscent of the old August—and in stark contrast to the flip-flops I’d thrown on when I’d run out of my own house. Glancing up, I realized he was dressed up as well—but not like he’d once been, with thousand-dollar suits and designer ties. Tonight he was more understated, in a pair of sleek gray trousers that hugged his trim waist. The dusty green shirt he wore matched his eyes perfectly and I had a hard time pulling my own from his gaze.
“You have plans,” I blurted out. “I’m so sorry—I’ve interrupted something.”
Feeling extremely embarrassed, I turned and nearly stumbled into the door of my car. With lightning quick reflexes he caught me, grabbing my waist and righting me before stepping back. His hand had only touched me for a brief moment but I could still feel the heat of it, grazing the bare skin between my jeans and t-shirt.