“My one regret in everything that happened is that I didn’t trust you enough to tell you the truth, especially when you’re the one person I should have trusted.” His fingers squeeze mine. “It was selfish of me to drag you into that. I just . . . I wasn’t in a good place, and I was just scared, because I knew choosing Chris would mean losing everyone else I loved.”
“I wish you would have trusted me,” I whisper as tears I can’t control fill my eyes. “You could have trusted me.”
“I know.” His voice cracks, and I turn to look at him. When his eyes meet mine, I hate the pain I see in his gaze. “Do you think you might be able to forgive me someday?”
“I already forgave you.” I let out a deep breath, then rest my head on his shoulder. “Have you talked to your parents?”
“No,” he says quietly, and I squeeze my eyes closed. “I’m learning to accept that they might never come around.”
“I hate that for you.”
“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.” I feel his lips at the top of my head; then his hand lets go of mine so he can wrap his arm around my shoulders. “Are you happy?”
“Happier than I have ever been. Not that I didn’t love you, but—”
“I get it. You don’t have to explain being soul-deep in love with someone to me.”
“I guess I don’t.” I lift my head from his shoulder and turn toward him. “Life is funny. Who would have thought that, after years together, we’d be sitting outside my house talking about starting lives with other people?”
“Yeah,” he says with a laugh, and I can’t help but smile.
I stand up and shake my head as he looks up at me. It’s strange to think that his decision to end things between us, a decision that devastated me at the time, was the best thing he could have done—not just for him, but also for me. If he hadn’t, I might not have had the chance to fall in love, really fall in love, with a man who loves me so completely. “Thank you.”
“For what?” He stands, and I tip my head back to look up at him.
“For being brave enough to follow your heart. I know that wasn’t easy for you.” I lean toward him, and like a million times before, he opens his arms to me, and I rest my ear against his chest. “I want nothing but happiness for you.”
“I know.” His chin rests against the top of my head. “And you should tell that guy of yours that if he hurts you, I’ll be first in line to kick his ass.”
“I’ll let him know, as long as you tell Chris the same thing,” I say, and his arms around me tighten before he lets me go and takes a step back.
“Promise you’ll message me from time to time to let me know how you’re doing?”
“I will.” I clear my throat in an attempt to fight back the tears I feel creeping up my throat once again.
“I still love you. I know I shouldn’t say that to you, but I still do.” His eyes drop to his feet for a moment before he lifts his head to look at me once more. “I hope you get everything you ever wanted.”
Not trusting myself to not start sobbing, I nod, and he nods back before pulling his keys out of his pocket and heading to his car.
When he gets in behind the wheel, I lift my hand to wave, and he waves back before doing a three-point turn and taking off down the lane. As his taillights disappear out of sight, I look around, then head into my trailer to finish packing, feeling lighter than I have in weeks. Even a tad bit optimistic, because maybe, just maybe, he and I will be able to be friends again someday.
“It’s not too late to change your mind about moving,” Jade says quietly as her dad pulls in to park in front of her house, where I stayed last night, and I turn her way, feeling my stomach drop when I see sadness in her gaze as her eyes search mine. “But you’re not going to, are you?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not going to.” I reach my hand out to her, and she wraps her pinkie around mine. Over this last month, one of the hardest things I’ve had to come to terms with is actually leaving the place I’ve always called home and the people who are my family. But even as difficult as it’s been, I know I’m making the right decision for myself, and my life. I know it’s going to take time to settle into living with Tanner, and I’m sure that we’re both going to have to do a lot of adjusting, but I feel whole when I’m with him, and there’s no way I’m going to deny myself that.
“I figured as much.” She lets out a deep breath. “I want to be selfish and to tell you that you’re making a mistake, but I can’t because I can see how much Tanner loves you and know that he’ll do everything he can to make you happy. I’m happy for you.”
“I love you.” My nose stings and my eyes burn.
“I love you too.” She looks over at me and sighs. “This isn’t even goodbye—I still get to spend the next few days with you.”
“I know.” I take a deep breath. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“You’re such a girl.” She wraps her arm around my shoulders and pulls me into her side. “No crying, or mom will think I’m being mean to you.”
“Right.” I laugh, remembering when we were younger and how the two of us fighting would normally end up with her in trouble with Maisie or Bernard; then again, she was the one who typically started the fights between us.
“Are you two ready?” Bernard asks, opening the driver’s-side door. “I wanna get a coffee before we head out of town.”
“We’re ready.” Jade lets me go, and we both wheel my suitcases to the back of Bernard’s truck, then load up the few boxes I packed and get in. After stopping for coffee and some snacks, we hit the road.
Oh God, I’m going to puke. I hold my hand to my forehead as I pray for the nausea to pass.
“Are you feeling sick again?” Jade asks quietly after a few hours, and I slowly turn my head her way, afraid that any sudden movement will cause me to throw up. Since we’ve been on the road, I’ve gotten nauseated more than once, but thankfully we’ve been just about to stop to use the restroom or get gas each time.
“Yeah.” I turn one of the air vents my way, hoping the cool air will help.
“I’ve never known you to get carsick.”
“I haven’t before. I probably caught a bug after all the stress from moving.”
“Yeah, maybe,” she agrees, then mutters, “or maybe you’re pregnant.”
“Don’t say that,” I hiss. My heart starts to hammer away inside my chest, because I thought the same thing after I realized I haven’t gotten my period yet—something I normally would have gotten a week ago. I glance toward the front seat, thankful that Maisie is asleep and Bernard is distracted by singing along to the radio.
You’re on birth control. You can’t be pregnant, I remind myself.
“I’m not pregnant.”
“Okay,” she says, not sounding convinced. “Do you want Dad to stop at the next rest stop? Maybe if you get out and walk around, you’ll feel a little better.”