“I hope you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always?”

I laugh and wipe my tears. “Almost always.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Get some sleep first and then try to fix what I’ve broken.”

“It’s easy. Go to Aaron, tell him what happened and see what he says. How he reacts.”

“Yes, that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Good luck. Can’t wait to hear the good news.”

Fifty-Seven

June 11

I wake up with a major headache, jump in the shower, but neither that nor the first coffee of the day help me feel any better.

As Celine and I walk together to the café, all I can think of is how early I can go to the inn. Would eight be too early? And what will I say? I should start with an apology. I think. Then an explanation. Imagining the scene makes me feel so nervous, my mouth goes dry.

“Celine,” I say. “Would it be OK if I left for an hour or two this morning? I have something to take care of.”

“Oh—” she says, and I can tell it wouldn’t be OK at all for some reason. “Sure. It’s just that I have my annual checkup at nine. I was about to ask you the same thing,” she adds with a faint smile. “But it’s fine. I’ll reschedule it.”

In a way, I feel relieved, as strange as that sounds. Celine is buying me some time to gather my thoughts before talking to Aaron. I’ve waited a year to talk to him, and now that the moment has arrived, I’m literally chickening out.

“Don’t. My thing can wait.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Thank you. I should’ve told you last night. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Please!”

I barely talk to Celine before she leaves for her doctor’s appointment. It’s not because I hold a grudge—not at all—but I just can’t get my thoughts together. Aaron, Ethan, what happened yesterday in San Francisco, the book. Everything. Everything is moving in fast circles in my mind. I made a mistake. A huge mistake and no matter how many times I’ve thought about it, I have no acceptable explanation and no excuse for the kiss. It shouldn’t have happened. Under any circumstances. It’s like something took over my brain when Ethan was staring at me with those eyes of his you feel go right through your soul. It’s not as if Aaron didn’t have enough reasons to resent me and to want nothing to do with me.

I can explain, or try to, what happened last year. Why I left, why I didn’t wait for him at the bench like we said. Why I kissed David. But how can I explain why I kissed Ethan?

My only hope is that nobody will use those photos and they’ll be forgotten and then erased from that guy’s camera. Maybe Cameron will just keep them as souvenirs. I couldn’t care less. As long as they don’t make it public.