So, instead of being an adult and telling her my plans, I decided to be a prick and just message her. I hope she doesn’t see this as a breakup.

It’s not.

I’m not separating myself from her. It’s just that right now, even she reminds me of Olivia. I know that in the future that will warm my heart, but right now it only hurts.

Everything smells like Liv. The house, my clothes, the air.

Would she still do it if she knew how much it would affect me? If she knew it would tear my heart to shreds?

I’ve spent the past two days on the road, sleeping at shitty motels, memorizing every word she wrote. Olivia wanted me to stop thinking. But I can’t. This escape will give me time to let everything sink in. And only after that will I start trying to make her wish come true.

As I enter a diner, Dad calls. I know hanging up isn’t the right thing to do, but I’m not in the mood to talk, so I shoot him a text to let him know I’m out of town.

I sit at a table in the corner and take my laptop out, order a latte macchiato, and start putting all my tree therapy research into one place, preparing a portfolio.

Some well-known botanists reached out to me and asked me to make a portfolio to present to them. If everything goes well, we can make tree therapy a real thing by the end of this year.

That’s how fast things happen when people like Henry Evans and Vanessa Scott get involved. I’ll do my best to not let them down.

I have two weeks until I meet them and I’m going to work on it every day.

“Here you go,” the waiter says kindly, and I thank him with a lazy smile. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

I shake my head. “Nah, I’m good, thanks.”

He nods and walks back to the kitchen. I take a sip. This is the best coffee I’ve ever drunk and I’ll need more if I’m going to spend the day here, plotting my presentation.

I’ll head back to my motel to sleep at some point. I’ll need to get some rest for tomorrow morning as I’m leaving for the next town. By then, I should be able to get a good chunk of the presentation done.

And that’s exactly what happens. I write, edit, rewrite, and think better about it. The hours pass in the blink of an eye.

CHAPTER FORTY THREE

INDIGO

It’s been a week since Elias left and I’m trying not to ask him what ‘a few days’ means. He could be home today for all I know. Or in a couple of weeks.