And because of that, he will never, ever be mine.

He leads her with his hand on the small of her back to the car and opens the door for her. I wait until they’re both in before I peel out on the road, speeding away in a cloud of burnt rubber. The toxic stench assaults my nostrils every time I take a breath, but I don’t care. I just need to get the hell away from here as fast as I can.

I try to swallow back the sob at the back of my throat. Hot tears crowd my eyes until I can’t hold them back any longer. I blink, and it’s like a dam breaking.

It’s not like there’s anyone watching me. I’m alone in the car, speeding to nowhere in particular, and now there’s a rock in my stomach. It’s regret and sadness balled into one. And it’s all my fault.

A million what-ifs fly through my mind.

What if I hadn’t been so stubborn?

What if I hadn’t been so closed off?

What if I had just let my guard down and taken a risk?

I wipe my runny nose with the back of my hand. It’s not like poring over these doubts does any good now.

I stare at the road ahead through my blurry vision. Crying won’t solve anything, I know that. But somehow I need to leach out this pain, this frustration, this sorrow. The rock in my stomach is now a boulder. Inside, I scold myself for not consuming anything this morning except for some crappy French herbal tea I found at the back of the pantry.

A minute later the boulder burns. Grief and regret have a funny effect on my GI system, because I’m suddenly nauseous. Christ on a stick, I’m going to be sick. Great. That’s just what I need after watching the man I love pair up with someone new from fifteen feet away.

When the acid in my stomach curdles, I have to swallow back a heave. I’ve got seconds before vomiting. Yanking on the steering wheel, I pull to the side of the road and open my car door just in time to puke that French herbal tea onto the concrete.

Chapter 23

Are we good, Nikki?” Penelope asks from the back of the food truck.

It’s the end of another busy day at Makena Road, and both Penelope and I are ready to head home.

“I think so,” I say.

We step out of the food truck, and I hand her the keys. “Thank you again for helping out today. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

Penelope scrunches her face and waves her hand. “Oh, please. It was my pleasure. All those times I begged you to let me work the truck and you finally caved. I had a great time.”