I pull out my duffle and larger suitcase from under the bunk and start rummaging through all the drawers for my clothes—at least, the things I’d come with. I can’t bring myself to pack any of the clothes Grayson had bought me, any of the shirts that are really his but I’ve claimed them as mine, anything that I’ve borrowed from Johanna… none of those things feel like they belong to me anymore.
In the midst of the flurry of clothes going into a bag or being tossed to the side, I pull out my phone to check to see if Grayson has called, maybe changed his mind, for the thousandth time since he’d left. He hasn’t.
Against my better judgement, I look at our text thread. More and more photos, the stupid jokes, the flirty banter…
“Love you more,” I’d said. Apparently, I meant it.
My thumb hovers over his name.
I don’t call. What’s the point? The phone works both ways, and he’s the one who said he needsspace—whatever the hell that means.
I put my phone away, angry at myself for looking again. I want to get mad athim—but no matter how hard I try to put my anger on him, I can't do it. I’m wrecked, wrecked in a way that doesn’t leave bruises, but still makes every inch of my body ache.
Zipping the duffle shut, I toss a few more things into the suitcase before sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment, breathing hard, hands shaking.
No more tears, I order myself.
A soft knock on the wall comes before the curtain to the bunk room is pushed back. Rylee.
“Mia?”
I don’t answer at first. I’m tired of trying to come up with things to say.
She moves through the curtain and notices that I’m surrounded by half-packed bags and a mountain of clothes.
“Going somewhere?” she asks.
I almost laugh. Not because it’s funny, but because it’s exactly something she’d say. Beating around the bush when she already knows the answer.
“I can’t be here anymore, Ry,” I tell her. “Not like this. Not alone.”
She leans against the wall, arms crossed, holding herself together for both of us. I know she’s trying to keep herself from breaking down with me.
“Where are you gonna go?”
I hesitate. I haven’t really gotten that far.
“I don’t know. I’m just going to go to the airport. I’ll figure it out when I get there.”
She doesn’t say anything for a second. Then she comes over and sits beside me, our shoulders barely brushing. “If you go now… it’s okay,” she says softly. “I understand. But don’t take off thinking you’re not coming back. You were made for this life, Mia. We’re not done with you yet.”
I blink back the tears I thought surely I’d run out of by now.
“None of it means anything without him.”
She looks like she wants to protest—to prove me wrong—but she stays silent.
I stand and zip my suitcase. “Will you tell them I had to go?”
Rylee nods. “I’ll handle the guys. You handle you.”
I pause at the door, taking one last inventory of everything that I’m about to leave behind. The space where everything has changed.
“Mia? You’re coming back,” Rylee insists. “I know you don’t see it now, but you will.”
“We’ll see.”
And then I head out the door.
