On the passenger seat, my phone rings. I glance at it quickly, Mamá written on the screen. I told her I’d be coming home tomorrow morning to work on some papers the farm’s part-time accountant sent us, but right now, I can’t even imagine going there. It’s only going to remind me of Wren. I let the call go to voicemail. She’ll call again if it’s something important. Please, don’t be something important. I need a break, just this once.

I’ve now been driving around Boston for the past forty-five minutes, still no destination in mind. I can’t go to my parents’ place, but I can’t go to mine either. If my childhood home holds too many memories of our relationship, then my place is a literal shrine to her. There’s the toothbrush she left in my bathroom, and the smell of her lilac shampoo on my pillows, and the box of Oreos she bought me as a joke last week after I ate all of hers at her place.

I could go to Finn’s, but he told me this morning that he’d be going on a date tonight, which obviously means I don’t want to be at his place right about now.

Fatigue is pressing down on me. I never expected tonight to go this way. It feels like days ago when we were getting ready in Wren’s bathroom.

At the first sign of a place I can walk in and have a drink, I put my blinker on and turn into the driveway. It looks like some kind of pub.

The smell as I walk inside reminds me of a beer barrel, but at least it’s warm and it’s a space that is Wren-free.

I make my way to the bar, where I ask the long-haired barman for a shot of tequila, then another.

God, how have I gotten here? Drinking alone in a bar with literally nothing in my life going right. It’s pathetic. Back where I was six months ago.

“Aaron?”

I don’t need to turn around to know who called my name, but I still do, just to confirm I didn’t dream it.

Nope. Very real.

Amber is as different from Wren as could be. Blonde, petite but curvy, smiling. She hasn’t changed a bit since the day she turned down my proposal.

“Wow. Amber. Hi.”

“I thought that was you.” She grins. “How are you doing? It’s been a while.”

“Yeah.” I drag a hand through my hair. Did I really need this tonight? “I’m…fine. What about you?”

“I’m good!” And she does look good. Much happier than when she was with me. “Are you here with someone?”

“Uh, no.”