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She loved him.

And he was leaving.

“Lucy,” he said, approaching, and she couldn’t bear it. His voice, him. All she wanted was to run into his arms, but that wouldn’t change anything. It would only make things harder. This already hurt too much.

She couldn’t do this. Grabbing her things, Lucy walked up to him.

“It’s over,” she whispered. “You win.”

She walked past him and out of the bookstore, away from everything she loved.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Lucy

Lucy spent a week crying, her heart broken.

Charles called her every day, asking if she would come in, and every day she said no. He asked her what was wrong, but she couldn’t tell him she was in love with Grayson and was heartbroken that he was leaving. Charles would only be angry with Grayson on her behalf, and she didn’t want to ruin their relationship.

So she didn’t explain. She just stayed in bed. She knew she was being highly unprofessional, and if she wasn’t going to go in, she should quit, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that, either.

She didn’t know what to do with herself, and so she tried her best to stay distracted. She reread a dozen books, watched shows and movies, slept for hours, and baked until she ran out of sugar and flour, but she was still depressed.

“I’m sorry, honey,” Bia said, talking to her on the phone for the third night in a row. “But it’s going to be okay. It’s going to work out, I know it will.”

Lucy sniffled, hugging her pillow as she lay in bed. “Thank you.”

“I love you. You’re so brave and tough, and you’ve been through so much, and you’ll get through this, too. You just need some time.”

But Lucy was afraid no amount of time would fix this. That night, her face was puffy when she went down to make herself dinner. While she was in the kitchen marinating some chicken, the front door opened, her parents entering in their usual quiet manner.

Andrew came into the kitchen to drop off a bag of takeout, pausing when he saw her.

“Oh, hello, sweetheart,” he said, smiling. “Why don’t we all eat together?”

She nodded, hoping they wouldn’t ask about work. She hadn’t told them she hadn’t gone in all week; she didn’t want to deal with their questions.

But she couldn’t avoid it forever, it seemed, as a little while later, she sat down with her parents at the dinner table to eat Chinese food.

“Hey, did the store close?” Andrew asked, pouring Iffat and then himself a glass of water. “I stopped by the convenience store on Main to pick up batteries and the man working there—Patrick, I think?—asked after you. He must have recognized me as your father, though I didn’t know who he was. Anyway, he said he hadn’t seen you all week and hoped you were doing okay.”

Lucy’s food lodged in her mouth. “Um, no, the store didn’t close,” she said. “I just … haven’t been going in.”

“Oh.” Andrew lit up, and Lucy’s heart sank into her stomach. “I’m glad you’ve finally listened to our advice. Now you can spend more time looking for something proper.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a great job in no time,” Iffat added, pleased as well. “Don’t worry—you’re so bright! Any office would be lucky to have you.”

Lucy set her fork down, appetite gone.

“I know a few people in data, I could ask around for you!” Andrew said, and with every word, Lucy felt worse and worse. “It’s been a bit since you’ve worked a real job, but I’m sure I could pull a few strings.”

Finally, Lucy broke down crying, her shoulders shaking with a sob. Only then did her parents stop, their faces stunned.

“Lucy, what is it?” Iffat asked, reaching for her hand, but Lucy was holding them together in her lap, her arms trembling.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Andrew said, handing her a glass of water.

“This,” she whispered, looking at her plate of food instead of at them.