Page 34 of Sincerely, Mr. Braden

I swipe angrily at the tears and squeeze my eyes shut again, fisting my hands tighter. Do not lose your shit. You’ve been through worse. You’ll get through this. The tears don’t abate. When did I become such a crybaby?

My father’s voice slams into me. Buck up, Taylor. You have things to do.

My eyes fly open. I forgot to check on my father. Where is my head? That’s another reason I can’t stay. I’ve shirked my responsibilities for long enough. I love my sister, but God only knows if she’s been telling me the truth. For all I know, they could’ve been skydiving or body slamming in mosh pits for the last two nights.

That’s enough to jolt me out of the spiral and flip the switch to the version of myself built for survival. I step into that armor, compartmentalizing, and steel myself against the whole fucking world. Once I’ve pulled myself together, I call my father and rattle off the morning checklist.

Satisfied with his answers, I end the call and give myself the fuel I need to get through the next hour. I tell myself that what Seth and I had was a fling, and flings are meant to be left behind. Clinging to that lie, instead of the bigger one, I quickly put on jeans and a T-shirt and push my feet into my sneakers. I shove a sweatshirt into my carry-on bag for the blustery New York weather and pack as fast as I can, feeding my resolve with the truth that Seth deserves better. By the time I’m done, my freaking heart feels too heavy to carry on.

But carry on I must.

With one last deep breath, I head out of the bedroom. When I reach the main living area, Seth is standing at the stove, like yesterday, with the phone tucked between his shoulder and ear, laughing. He turns at the sound of my suitcase wheels, and his laughter fades, confusion riddling his expression. “Hold on, Gramps,” he says into the phone, and lowers it to his side. “What’s going on?”

My heart is being ripped in half, one side desperate to stay, the other needing to set him free before he finds out the truth. I force my voice to stay steady through one last, necessary lie. “I have to go. My dad needs me.”

“Hold on. I’ll go with you.”

“No.” The word slices the air, sharper than I intend. “You don’t need to. This was…” At a loss for words, I say, “This was amazing, but our lives are too far apart. It’s best if we leave it here.”

His brow creases, confusion darkening his expression. “Ellie—”

“Thank you for everything, but I really have to go,” I say, forcing a smile that hurts to make, and hurry out the front door.

Tears burn my eyes as I sprint to the rental car and throw my bag into the trunk. I climb behind the wheel with my heart in my throat, telling myself the biggest lie of all, that either of us will ever be the same again.

Seth

The front door closes before I can find the words to stop her.

I’m in shock, one hand half-raised, the other gripping my fucking phone as I try to process what the hell just happened. I put the phone to my ear. “Gramps?”

“I’m here. Everything okay, son? You sound like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Fine. I’ve got to call you back.” I end the call, and as my brain snaps into gear, I catch the scent of smoke and spin around to find the eggs burning. I shut off the stove, toss the pan into the sink, and bolt out the front door.

The sun is blinding as I run down the driveway and see the gate closing behind Ellie’s car, her taillights disappearing down the road.

“Fuck!” I stare at the empty road, trying to figure out what the hell went wrong. My feet move out of habit, pacing, my chest constricting. I look at my phone, still clutched in my fist, and unfurl my fingers to call her, but my gut twists as I realize I never got her number. Fucking hell. How could I be so stupid? I pay attention to details for a living, and the one time it matters, I fuck it up.

I whip off my glasses and rub my eyes, as if I can wipe her absence away and when I put my glasses back on, I’ll realize it was only a dream. But the end of us would never be a fucking goal or aspiration. It’s a goddamn nightmare.

A long-ago buried ache claws its way to the surface, swamping me with the vast emptiness that I experienced as a kid time and time again after forging bonds that I thought were steady and meaningful, only to have them ripped out from under me every time we moved.

Over the years, I learned and adapted, until I handled that shit like a fucking pro.

Only this time, I don’t want to let her go.

Chapter Twelve

Taylor

It’s been twenty-four hours since I left the island, and I still feel like a stranger in my own body, carrying guilt and sadness like a raw, wounded, and unbearably painful second skin.

I didn’t even call Becca or my dad when I got home last night. I knew they’d be able to tell something was off, and I couldn’t deal with that. But I’m even more exhausted today. Every time I closed my eyes last night, I saw the confusion and devastation on Seth’s face when he offered to come with me and I brushed him off like every word wasn’t driving a knife deeper into both of us. It makes me sick that I did that. So sick that this morning I texted my father and Becca and pretended I was still out of town.

I promised myself I’d surprise my father with dinner tonight to make up for it.

The universe is paying me back with a vengeance. Unpacking was hell, each outfit I wore on the island a painful reminder of the way Seth looked at me in it and the way I felt as he stripped it off. I’ve been trying not to think about him, but that has every wonderful second of our time together playing on a destructive loop that always ends with me running away like a coward.