“I assume you’re telling me all this so I’ll write about it,” she said when Louisa had finished her pitch.
Louisa forced a smile. “I was hoping you’d find it newsworthy.”
“Nervy since you stole Cody Boggs away from me, but it’s good karma, so I’ll do a piece on it.”
“I didn’t steal anyone.” Louisa ignored Ally’s wide eyes that seemed to say, Chill out—we need her. “In case you haven’t noticed, Cody and I aren’t together.”
“You’re not doing long-distance?” McKenzie tossed her long, wavy locks over her shoulder, lips puckered in surprise.
“Long-distance?”
“I just assumed that you’d figure out a way to make his transfer work.” She shrugged. “Charlie said the guys are all bummed about it. I guess your boyfriend is pretty good at his job.”
Transfer?
McKenzie slipped her pink padfolio into her sleek black bag and met Louisa’s eyes. She must’ve found confusion on Louisa’s face because in an instant, the blonde’s expression changed. “Oh. You didn’t know.”
Ally stood. “Of course she knew. She just doesn’t like talking about it. Thanks so much, McKenzie. We’ve given you all the details, the printouts, the launch plan, but please let us know if you have any more questions.”
Louisa sat, unable to move.
“I’ll be in touch, girls.” McKenzie strolled toward the door but turned before exiting. “For what it’s worth, Louisa, I think he really did love you.”
Louisa bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. It must be really bad if McKenzie Palmer was being nice to her.
“Thanks, McKenzie.” Ally opened the door and practically pushed the other woman out. She turned back and faced Louisa, who couldn’t keep the tears inside for another moment.
“Oh, Lou,” Ally said. “I’m so, so sorry.”
It was stupid. She knew it was stupid. Of course he’d requested a transfer—he never wanted to be there in the first place. But knowing he was already gone—it felt like he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.
He’d left without a single word. Just like last time.
She wiped her cheeks dry, but the tears kept falling. Ally reached across the desk and took Louisa’s hands. “Ice cream?”
Louisa took a deep breath. “I guess so. Tomorrow is my birthday, after all.”
But the words only made everything worse.
Her golden birthday. Their golden birthday. She’d already written out her wish—only one this year—which was pointless. She couldn’t go to Brant Point. She couldn’t show up and find that he hadn’t—it would destroy her.
She’d been holding on to that shred of hope, and even though it was foolish and wrong, a part of her still wanted to believe they lived in a world where they could be together. But clearly that had been a misguided wish, the kind she might’ve made as a teenage girl with no experience in matters of the heart.
She wasn’t that girl anymore.
It was time to say goodbye—for real this time—to any notion that her life might ever coincide with the life of Cody Boggs.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
AFTER FOUR DAYS IN HIS MOM’S APARTMENT, Cody boarded a plane. Spending time with her had made it clear what he needed to do.
His flight was short, but it felt like an eternity, his mind racing with what to say and what not to say. His palms turned clammy the second the plane landed.
He grabbed his carry-on and made his way off the plane, out of the terminal, and onto the street, where he caught his Uber. As they drove, he replayed his planned-out speech for the thousandth time.
At his stop, he pulled his bag out of the car and slung it over his shoulder, looked at the house, and inhaled a deep breath. Now or never.
He’d spent the past week thinking about his dad, about the way he treated people and the way he taught Cody to treat people. And for the first time in his life, he realized he wanted to make his dad proud. He didn’t want to atone for his death or make himself pay some sort of penance—he wanted to show the world that his father’s influence was greater than anyone else’s.
He rang the doorbell and waited, surveying the quiet street until the door opened.
JoEllen stared at him from the other side of the screen. “Cody?”
“Hi, Mrs. Chambers,” he said.
She opened the door and motioned for him to come inside. “You know you’re not allowed to call me that.”
He willed away the tension that hung between them. “Hey, Mama Jo.”
Her face melted into a sad smile, hope etched on its edges.
“Is Mr. Chambers here?”
“You mean Warren?”
He nodded.
“Follow me.”
He did, straight through the wide entryway and into the house, noting the photos of Louisa that lined tables and walls.
JoEllen turned and caught him staring. She stilled. “Have you talked to her?”
He shook his head, wishing his answer were different.
“I understand it’s hard,” she said. “But my daughter loves you. I mean, Louisa loves everyone, but she really loves you.”
He forced himself not to dwell on her words. He wasn’t here for Louisa. He was here for himself. Besides, he didn’t doubt that they loved each other—he only doubted that their circumstances would allow their love to exist.
JoEllen continued on toward the back of the house. She led him to the living room, where the Red Sox game played on a huge television. He wouldn’t think about the quality of their life compared to the quality of his mother’s. He wouldn’t think about it because if he did, he’d have to leave. And he’d come for a reason.
“Warren, you have a visitor,” JoEllen said.
Louisa’s dad turned, and when he saw Cody, his face fell. The regret and shame he’d displayed that night in the hospital waiting room had returned. Cody wanted him to feel those things. It was an ugly desire, and he tried to force it aside.
“Cody?” Warren stood. “Is everything all right? Your mother—?”
“She’s fine, sir,” Cody said.
JoEllen turned toward him. “Would you like something to drink, Cody?”
“Water would be great.”
She raced off toward the kitchen, which was three times the size of his mother’s, he’d noticed on the way in.
Stop it.
“Have a seat, son,” Warren said.
Cody obeyed, sitting on the love seat next to the sofa where Warren sat. A tense weight of silence and knowing formed in the space between them, and Cody searched for the words he’d been practicing on the flight to Boston from Chicago. They were nowhere to be found.
“You a baseball fan?”
The Red Sox were playing the Yankees. Cody watched the games when he was off, but he wouldn’t call himself a fan. He gave Warren a shrug.
JoEllen returned with a bottle of cold water and handed it to Cody.
“Thank you.” He uncapped the bottle and took a swig. He hadn’t realized until that moment that his mouth was dry, like he was chewing on sandpaper.
JoEllen stood there, seemingly unsure as to whether or not she was invited to this conversation. “How are things?” she finally asked.