The day was normal out here. Cloudy skies, a little gray, a cool sixty-five degrees. A slight wind. Just as it’d been when Brougham and I had walked outside barely ten minutes ago. But nothing was the same. Nothing was ever going to be the same.

Maybe I should message Brougham.

But oh, oh no, what could I say? That I didn’t like him? Because maybe that wasn’t true. What if I said I did like him? What would that mean for us? I wasn’t ready for it to mean anything. Thirty minutes ago, I’d accepted the idea that he was Winona’s boyfriend. And Winona! What would happen there? What if he was just intending on stringing us both along? If he liked me, why was he talking to Winona at all?

And Brooke.

Not that Brooke should matter. Brooke was not going to happen. But was I ready to move on from her yet?

Yes.

No.

Mostly.

But it was one thing to be mostly there, and another thing to date someone else. To close the door on her completely.

Even if I did like Brougham.

Oh no. What if I did like Brougham?

Why hadn’t he given me a warning? Now my brain was all scrambled, and I didn’t know what I thought, or how I felt. I couldn’t talk to him like this. I might spontaneously combust.

But I couldn’t just leave him in silence. Because that would hurt him. And I didn’t know what I wanted, but I did know I didn’t want that. He didn’t deserve that.

So. So. Um.

I took some deep breaths, and glanced around to check he wasn’t sneaking up on me. Nope. All clear. Just swaying palm trees and the empty parking lot and a plastic bag tumbling in the distance along the asphalt.

I took a few minutes to compose a text.

I am so, so sorry. Please don’t take me running away badly. I just need some time to think. I’ll message you soon, okay?

A few minutes later, during which I paced about three full laps of the parking lot, I got a response.

It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.

I let out a sigh of relief. Okay. This was okay. It was fine. Fine was good.

Okay.

Where was Ainsley?

I chewed on my finger. I had to talk to someone now. Now.

So, I dialed Brooke’s number.

She picked up on the fourth ring. “Hey, what’s up?”

Down the far end of the street, I could make out Ainsley’s car pulling up at a red light.

I opened my mouth to reply to Brooke. To say nothing much. To say everything had changed. To say I didn’t know what to do.

But instead of speaking, I burst into tears.

FIFTEEN