Logan nodded. “I am so sorry, Olive. I’ll see you later. ” I didn’t respond, and he left.

That night I felt incredibly empty. I felt the strong urge to text Finn, but I was unsure what to say. If anything, this mess showed me I should’ve stayed in Florida. When I was there, I could numbly focus on work, reading, the gym, eating healthy, and working on myself. But the moment I arrived in Colorado, I was bogged down by agony and eventually, something that felt a whole lot like love. But Finn ran for the hills when he saw my dirty laundry, and I doubted anything was going to change that.

I checked my phone every few minutes, hoping each email notification buzz was a text from him. I typed out a message multiple times.

I am so sorry… delete.

I didn’t want you to know because… delete.

Can I talk to you for just a… delete.

Nothing felt satisfying enough to send, and my mattress felt stiff and cold. The time on my phone said it was eleven, and I knew I wouldn’t sleep until I expended this pent up energy. So, I suited up with thick leggings and a sweatshirt, laced on my favorite tennis shoes, and went out the front door.

I ran down the well-lit street, alone with my thoughts. I pictured the days with Finn that felt too good to be true. I imagined we were still at his cabin, bundled under blankets and watching Christmas movies. Every once in a while he would whisper a dirty joke in my ear and make me laugh as his hands trailed to my waist. It had been so blissful at the time, so domestic and sweet.

When I was tired and out of breath, I walked back to the house. The front door opened with a creak, and I quietly took off my shoes. I turned to head down the hall but paused when someone cleared their throat. I turned on my heel and found my mom in her pajamas on the sectional, a mug in one hand, the other on the table in front of her.

“Let’s talk.” She gestured to the couch, and I knew better than to argue. My shoulders sunk, and I plopped into the cushion next to her. She handed me the spare mug that I knew had her English breakfast tea in it.

“Thanks,” I mumbled and took the mug.

“So, Finn didn’t take the news well.” She took a sip.

I let out a sarcastic laugh and shook my head. “No, he didn’t. To be fair I didn’t take it so well when I found out either.”