I kiss her hair and pull her closer in the back of the SUV. She’s wearing one of my shirts, like she loves to do, under an oversized zip up hoodie she bought from a street vendor. It’s navy blue, with the word “Brooklyn” embroidered on the front in gray.

Holding her tight, I breathe in her strawberry sweetness. I’ve learned over the last several weeks that it’s not one product or perfume that gives her that summertime scent I love. It’s everything. She uses strawberry-scented hair products and strawberry champagne lip gloss. She sprays her sheets with a strawberry-lavender calming mist, and she even has a little strawberry-shaped air freshener in her car.

I’ll never smell, eat, or see a strawberry again and not think of her.

We sit in silence, and I savor the way she fits. In the crook of my arm. In the bleakness of my life. She forced her way in and made herself at home.

I play with her hair and watch the cityscape disappear in the distance, pretending that this summer—this moment in time, this feeling of warmth and joy, love and belonging—that it could last a lifetime.

Except a lifetime isn’t an option. We have three weeks, she and I. Three weeks until she goes back to California. Three weeks until I make the choice I’ve always made, putting my mom and my brother first.

“We’re here, Mr. Haas,” Glenn announces from the front seat.

And just like that, our trip is over. Our summer is coming to an end. Our time together is vanishing like sand through my fingers. I’m not ready for this to be over. But I have to let her go.

41. Maddie

Chapter 41

Maddie

Dempsey dropped me off at home yesterday afternoon, and we stayed at our own houses last night. Thankfully, I made it back in time for the Wheeler family Zoom call since I hadn’t actually told anyone I was out of town. My parents would have asked twenty questions about who I was with and what we saw and ate in the city. Then Rhett would have pushed for the details I’m not willing to share.

As soon as our Zoom call ended, I locked up the house, showered, and put myself to bed. I hadn’t slept at all on Saturday night, and I’d only napped on and off on the plane.

Now it’s Monday, late afternoon, and I’ve done a fantastic job ignoring everyone and everything all day long.

I’ve spent most of the day in the pool to keep myself from being glued to my phone. This way, I haven’t been tempted to text or call him, or to look through the few hundred pictures saved on my camera roll from this weekend.

I’ve put myself on a Dempsey Detox.