Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“You were gone a lot and things just happened.”
“So, over a year? Because that is the last time I was gone for a long time, as you put it.”
We stand there, in silence. I shake my head. “You were a red flag, and I knew to steer clear of you, but I let you in and look at what you’ve done.”
She looks at me sharply, and I see tears forming in her eyes. “That’s not fair, Quinn. I loved you. So much. But I wasn’t happy. I tried to tell you—”
“Did you?” I interrupt. “Or did I have to prod this out of you for you to then tell me everything was okay?”
“You’re not innocent in all of this.”
“You’re right,” I tell her. “There’s a whole laundry list of things I could’ve done better.”
I sigh deeply, the sounds of the harbor filling the space between us. Seagulls cry overhead. The fountain burbles nearby. A child laughs somewhere behind us.
“Are you happy now?” I finally ask.
Nola doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
The simplicity of her answer is what breaks me. Not dramatically. Not with tears or rage. But with quiet acceptance. Because she does look happy. Completely, genuinely happy in a way I can’t remember seeing her look in our final months together.
“Good,” I say, and to my surprise, I mean it. “I’ll have my manager send you the necessary papers to remove you from the house.”
“Okay.”
“As far as your tuition goes, consider it a gift.”
“I’ll pay you back.”
I shake my head. “After I leave here, you’ll never hear from me again. You won’t even have access to me.”
“I still have your number.”
I scoff. “If you think you’ll get through, go for it.”
I reach into my pocket and pull out the ring I’ve been carrying since the day she left. The one I wore around my neck until I couldn’t bear the weight of it anymore.
“I wanted to give this back to you,” I say, holding it out.
She shakes her head. “It was a gift. I can’t take it back.”
“You’re right. I gave you a lot of gifts, didn’t I?”
She nods.
I cock my arm back and throw the ring deep into the park, knowing someone will find it and hopefully pawn it or something.
“Quinn!”
“What, did you think I’d insist you take it? You cheated on me, Nola. You lied and used me. Used my family.”
“I can’t—”
“I don’t need any excuses. What’s done is done. Do me a favor?”
“What’s that?”
“Be a better person. I don’t deserve what you’ve done to me. I wasn’t a bad boyfriend to you. My family treated you like you were one of theirs. This shit . . .” I sigh and look around. “None of this had to happen. When you started giving yourself to him you should’ve ended things with me.”
“I know,” she says quietly.
“You could’ve saved me—us—a lot of stress.”
She nods. “For what it’s worth, we were real, just not forever.”
“Nah,” I say, shaking my head. “We weren’t. You used me.”
“I didn’t.”
“Yeah, you did.” I stand. “I should go. Soundcheck and all that.”
“Will you be okay?” she asks like she genuinely cares. I want to say a bunch of shit to her.
I look past her toward the harbor, the endless sky, the future stretching out before me, unknown but somehow less frightening than it was an hour ago.
“Yeah,” I say. “I will be.”
I don’t hug her goodbye. Don’t kiss her cheek. Those aren’t our gestures anymore.
Instead, I simply nod, turn, and walk away.
And with each step, the weight I’ve been carrying since she left gets a little lighter, a little easier to bear. I expect the tears to come, for the gut-wrenching sobs to rack my body, but the only thing I feel is relief.
I think I’ll always be pissed off she cheated, but deep down, I think I knew there was something going on. No one giggles that much when they’re texting their mother. The signs were there, and I missed them, or maybe I ignored them, because I wanted to believe the best about her. I wanted to believe she was the only one for me.
By the time I reach my car, I’m not looking back anymore. I’m looking forward. This isn’t a breakup, this is closure. I was just too in my own head to realize she left me a long time ago.
I put all the windows down, despite the lower temps. The wind rips through my hair, no doubt ruffling it up and giving it that windblown effect. I turn the music up, singing loudly to each song and changing the station when one of Sinful Distraction’s songs come on. At the stoplights, I look at the cars next to me and wave to whoever is in the passenger seat. Right now, I don’t care if they recognize me. I hope they do, and I hope it makes their day.