“He doesn’t have that. I’m not saying you have to sign up to coach Little League with him or bind yourself to him for the rest of your lives. I’m asking you to do the decent thing I know you’d do for anyone else.” My lips twisted together, and I left him alone in the kitchen.
This was getting too heated. I’d try again when we had more time, but I couldn’t miss my flight. And right now I didn’t want to spend Thanksgiving with him after being so damn selfish.
The silence mounted with each step. Maybe it was a step too far, but I needed to say it.
Halfway through packing my bag, the front door slammed shut. I dropped my head and slid to the floor with my back against the bed. A sound caught in my throat, which already felt raw from how tight it was closed. My eyes filled, but I squeezed my lids shut. No, I wasn’t going to cry. If this ended because of me feeling like I needed to tell him something important, that meant a lot to me, then so be it. It was fun while it lasted, but damn, this hurt. My chest was being hollowed out with a soup spoon. Keeping my mouth shut would’ve been advisable, but I couldn’t help myself. Taking a few deep, shaky breaths, I got back to packing.
Maybe over the long weekend I’d start looking for a new place for after the New Year. I’d start working on a plan where my life wasn’t a hair’s breadth from toppling off a cliff, where I was an adult who made smart decisions.
Maybe if I pretended that was me for long enough, I’d start feeling that way for real.
Just as I zipped up my carry-on filled with a couple changes of clothes and sheets for my parents, Ian called back to let me know their cars were all reserved, but he could call in a limo service for me, I’d told him thanks for checking, but I’d find another way. There were times I forgot I lived in a building where some people spent the money I made on one project on a nice dinner.
If I didn’t want to miss my flight, I’d have to leave soon. I could take SEPTA, the city metro, and be thankful I only had a carry-on.
Sliding the bag off my bed, I grabbed my purse and left my room. Leaving without talking to Hunter wasn’t what I wanted to do, but it looked like he wasn’t giving me a choice.
He knew I had a flight to catch.
This wouldn’t be my first time breaking up with someone and leaving without another word. Would I come back to all my stuff in the package room behind the concierge desk in neatly organized and labeled boxes?
In the hallway, I was joined by Millie, who was pulling a small carry-on of her own.
I took a deep breath and smiled—or at least my best approximation of one—trying to act natural. “Hey, Millie.”
“Hello, Sabrina. Are you headed to visit your family?”
“I am. What about you?”
“My children have rented a house in Aspen. I’m headed there until after the new year.”
“New Year’s? That’s a long trip. All you have is that bag?” I pressed the down arrow on the elevator.
She laughed. “Oh no, this is all my last-minute things. Ian took down the rest of my luggage earlier. Is Hunter going with you? There’s certainly been a change in him over the past few weeks.”
My heart skipped a beat, dread balling up tight in the pit of my stomach.
She’d always been so sure we’d get together from the day I moved in, but now we were… whatever the hell we were… and I didn’t want to have to burst her bubble. “No, he’s not going with me. I’m taking the train to the airport.”
She waved her hand and laughed like I’d said I’d decided to take a hot air balloon there. “Don’t be silly. Do you want to share my car to the airport? You can tell me all about how things are going between you two.”
A few minutes ago that had seemed like the perfect idea, but the questions about Hunter wouldn’t stop and I wasn’t exactly sure how to answer them.
“No, I’m fine. I was going to meet a friend first for lunch and then head to the airport.”
In the lobby Millie turned to me and cupped my arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Have a wonderful Thanksgiving, Sabrina, and stay safe.” She smelled like the perfume counter at a store way too expensive for me to even set foot in.
“Thanks, Millie.” I hugged her back.
She squeezed my arm and walked over to the concierge to stand beside the trolley filled with a wardrobe’s worth of matching luggage that probably cost more than all my clothes, electronics, and camera equipment put together. Whenever I spoke to her, it was easy to forget that she probably had multiple bank accounts with two commas when I was lucky to have one account with one comma before it slowly dwindled to cobwebs and mothballs.
A doorman opened the door, and I popped out into the city street. The sun hadn’t set yet, and I pulled the zipper up even higher on my coat, tucked my scarf into the gap at my neck.
I turned to walk toward the train stop when a car horn honked. It didn’t feel like the normal city traffic, and I spun around, expecting an angry taxi driver shouting at a biker.
Hunter ducked his body out of the open passenger-side window of a shiny black car, which wasn’t the one I’d seen him drive before. He’d reached inside to honk the horn to get my attention. He’d been waiting—for me.
I froze, not sure if I wanted to be in the car with him right now, but feeling some of the heaviness lift knowing I wouldn’t be leaving town without even a goodbye.
He’d left after our fight—our first official fight as more than roommates—and I wasn’t sure how I was feeling about what had happened back in the apartment, let alone him.
The decision on whether I was going with him was made for me when he crossed the sidewalk and took my bag from my hand.
“What are you doing here?”
He stopped and looked at me over his shoulder like I was the one being weird. “Taking you to the airport.”
“I thought…” I straightened my back. “I thought you’d left.”
“There was a last-minute issue with a vendor I needed to sort out, but I knew I could make it back in time. Come on.” He held out his hand to me.
Trying to sift through the emotions welling in my chest, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to believe him or actually believed him. He was acting like we hadn’t had an argument an hour ago. But I’d take this over leaving thinking he was still angry with me and me pretending I was okay with that. I took his hand and let him lead me to the car. “Whose car is this?”
“An acquaintance.”
“Only you have acquaintances who’d let you borrow cars like this from them. Cat’s my friend, and if she had a car like this, I don’t think she’d let me drive it, let alone borrow it.”
He popped open the passenger-side door and held it open for me. “Everyone’s got an angle. Once you figure it out, getting what you want isn’t that hard.”
I slipped into the car, letting those words roll around in my head. What exactly did he want from me? Was there some angle he was working to get what he wanted that I couldn’t see? Sometimes it felt like there had to be. For the first time in a long time, I went to the place of why the hell had he chosen me? I aggravated him, irritated him, pushed him, and it was hard to make sense of why he wanted to be my guy.
The trunk slammed shut, and he opened the driver’s side door and slid into the car like he’d been driving it for years.