The worst part is the anticipation. I didn’t fall for any random guy. When Gray returns to Charleston, there’s an excellent chance I’ll have to see him. Interact with him. I’m not confident I can handle it without throwing something at him or crying. Or both.

He said he’d be gone “at least another month.” I probably should have clarified before asking for a live love declaration. There’s no way I’ll end up in this situation again—I hope—but lesson learned. Ask basic questions before big ones.

Noah is chattier at dinner than normal, and I know it’s his attempt at drawing attention away from me. I should be grateful, instead it makes me feel worse. He’s helping me, protecting me, even after I showed no regard for his feelings. Pursuing something with Gray was entirely selfish. It would be one thing if it had a point. If I went into it with the possibility we might end up together and it would all be worth it in the end.

Instead of thinking with my head, I acted with my heart and my hormones. I told myself I would act normally around him after we ended, that Noah would never know, much less suspect. Maybe that was a lie all along. It’s definitely a lie now. I’ve forever changed the dynamic between my brother and his oldest, closest friend.

The knowledge Gray broke my heart will always be there between them, whether I’m around or not.

And it breaks my heart all over again.

After dinner ends, I say goodbye to my parents and the Phillipses and head to the hospital for the graveyard shift. Noah insists on driving me. I stopped using Gray’s Jeep to get around two days after our final conversation. Parked it in the loft’s garage and took an Uber to the hospital. I’ve been taking the bus ever since because I have been working nonstop and haven’t even had the time to go look at a car. It’s an outing I’m avoiding because I know I’ll be plagued by memories of my last trip to a car dealership the next time I return.