“I’m making breakfast,” he said, breaking the silence and gesturing toward the kitchen. “Bacon, eggs, coffee. I figured you’d be hungry after ice skating last night.”
“I have bruises up and down my ankles,” Kenzie said, trying to avoid answering. “Quite a treacherous life you live up here.”
“You’ll get used to it, if you skate often enough,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “I can make up a plate for you while you get dressed? Do you need clothes to borrow?”
Kenzie shook her head, sadness making her mouth turn down. “I should go,” she whispered. She felt reluctant, as if she were making the wrong choice. But faced with demanding the truth from Bryce or returning to her simple Concord life, she would return. She would take the easy route. She couldn’t allow herself to get her heart broken. Not again.
“Oh,” Bryce said, disappointed. “I thought you said your boss was giving you more time.”
“I know. But I thought about it, and I think it’s better if I go back. Face my problems. Make some money,” Kenzie said. She looked downtrodden. Her shoulders slumped forward.
“I see.” Bryce took a step back. “Well. I’ll give you some privacy.” He closed the door, leaving Kenzie in silence.
Quickly, anxiety fueling her, Kenzie slipped her arms into her sweater. In a moment of nostalgia, she lifted the small jean jacket patch from the side table without really looking at it and tucked it into her pocket, knowing she’d want the memento later: proof that she’d actually been here, had actually felt things for him.
Without lingering long, she flung herself to the door, gathering her things from the small cabin living space. Bryce had placed the now-cooked bacon and eggs to the side, still in their skillet, uneaten. He sat at the table, watching her scramble to go. Kenzie wondered if she was bringing back memories of a previous breakup, one he’d never be upfront with her about.#p#分页标题#e#
She stood at the doorway, gazing at him. She wore her coat, her boots. They hadn’t spoken since she’d informed him she was planning to leave. She felt the desire to tell him she was sorry. Old clichés formed in her head. Sometimes things didn’t work out, and there was no explanation.
“Well. It’s been fun,” Bryce said, standing tall. He stretched his muscled legs toward her and wrapped her in a friendly hug. They both understood this would be their last. Her skin sizzled as she touched him. Then she pulled back, gave him a final smile, and opened the door.
She didn’t say another word. She bounded through the snow, toward her car, which Bryce had scraped clean of snow that morning. Feeling small tears form in her eyes, she burst into the driver’s seat, conscious of Bryce watching her from the porch. After struggling with the keys, she cranked the engine on and turned down the driveway, her elbows visibly shaking from the cold.
Before leaving the mountain, she stopped by her own abandoned cabin, gathering her things quickly and writing a brief note to the owners, thanking them. She drove a bit too fast down the mountain, her tires slipping in the snow, and then burst out onto the highway, the sun blasting upon her windshield. She felt wild, chaotic, strange: as if she’d just lived through an adventure, or a tragedy, and would live to tell the tale.
When she arrived at her apartment in Concord, she found Austin had moved out quickly—probably diving immediately into Tori’s life and bed across town. Kenzie felt like a ghost, wandering through her place, taking stock of all that was missing. Half of the closet was black, empty. He’d even removed his socks, which she’d borrowed and kept in her sock drawer. He’d removed his DVDs, despite the fact that they hadn’t owned a DVD player the entire time they’d been together. He’d also moved out the other chair in the living room, which had been given to them by his tiring mother, whose high-pitched voice over the phone had made Kenzie cringe.
Now, her life was her own.
She splayed out on the couch and tried to watch television, anything to keep her mind off Bryce. For a long time, she watched winter skiing in the Swiss Alps, the skiers flying down with artistic flair, bounding from one side of the mountain to the other and skirting through trees. But none of it held her interest.
Her phone rang then. She looked down at it, irrationally hoping it was Bryce. It was just Austin. Out of curiosity, Kenzie answered it, rolling her eyes as she said, “Hello.”
“Kenz, it’s me. Austin. You—you’re back?”