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He was looking at me. “Say something,” he said.
“I’m not sure what I can say to that,” I replied slowly. Thankfully, my voice didn’t quiver. “You’ve clearly made up your mind about it, and I’m not going to try to change it. If that’s how you feel, then that’s how you feel. I appreciate you being honest with me.”
He held my gaze for several moments, like he was waiting for me to break down, confess that I was in love with him—hadn’t we just said that, only a few short days ago?—and that he couldn’t do this to me. And yes, there was a part of me that wanted to do that, but I wasn’t going to.
I felt numb after he left, but that numbness only lasted for a few minutes until the tears started. I couldn’t hold them back any longer, and I sat on the couch and clutched a pillow and cried in a way I hadn’t cried in a long, long time. It didn’t feel particularly good or cathartic. I didn’t stop crying and feel as though a dark cloud had been lifted. I stopped crying when my body seemed to have run out of tears, and then I just felt... hollow. Almost as though a limb had been cut off, like I was missing a very important part of myself. Yet I was also overwhelmed by how powerless I felt, how there seemed nothing I could do to remedy the situation, nothing I could do to change his mind.
Was I supposed to move? There was no way I’d be able to continue living next to him, knowing that he was right there, hearing him out in the backyard with Declan. Living next door to each other had once seemed like such a blessing, but now it felt like a curse; it felt like a trap that I had unwittingly fallen into and now had no way to get out of.
I didn’t know what to do.
I called my mother.
“Oh, Allie,” she said, when I’d finally managed to get the whole story out. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I can hear in your voice how hurt you are by this whole thing. Should I come up there?”
“No, you don’t have to do that,” I said. I didn’t particularly want to be alone right then, but I also didn’t want her staying over here and possibly going over to Cole’s to give him a piece of her mind or something. “But maybe... do you think I could come down there?”
“Of course,” she said, though she sounded a little surprised. We both were; I hadn’t planned on asking that, but suddenly, getting away from here seemed more important than never seeing Bill again. Bill seemed like a tiny, microscopic problem to me now. “Come down whenever you want; stay as long as you need to. Bill is down in New York for the next five days, so I’ve got the whole place to myself. I was just starting to feel a little lonely, in fact.”
“I’ll drive down tomorrow morning,” I said. “I’ll text you when I’m on the road.”
I thought a long drive would do me some good, give me something to concentrate on, especially if I blasted some music really loud. But I just couldn’t shake that feeling of there being nothing I
could do, except move on, which seemed impossible. I knew that I wasn’t the first person to go through a breakup, and maybe if I’d actually dated some people before this, I’d have some practice with it under my belt, but it felt like there was no way I was ever going to feel okay again. As I drove, the highway in front of me would sometimes blur, but I blinked furiously, keeping the tears from falling. I didn’t want to cry about this anymore; it seemed pathetic, but every time I thought about not being able to see Cole again, this immense sadness seemed to overwhelm me.
I got into my car. The window was partially down, and I could hear Declan calling my name from his side yard. I pretended I didn’t hear him, though, as I backed down the driveway, and I still pretended I wasn’t able to hear him as he approached, waving, a smile on his face. I kept my gaze fixed firmly on the road in front of me, though I was aware of him in my peripheral vision. He stayed on the lawn and didn’t come out onto the road to the car, but he was still yelling my name. I turned my head ever so slightly and saw Cole walking after him. Just the sight of him made my heart hurt.
Declan called my name once more, but then I drove off, and the sound of his voice receded, and when I looked in my rearview mirror before I turned at the end of the road, I saw him and Cole standing there, watching me go. What had he told Declan? I wondered. I felt bad ignoring him like that, just driving off, but I hoped it would seem like I just hadn’t heard him.
I hoped that he wouldn’t be too hurt over this whole thing. He might for a little while, but he’d be fine, I knew it. Kids were resilient like that. I wasn’t so sure about myself, though.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Cole
“Where is Miss Allie going?”
We stood there at the end of the driveway, watching as Allie’s car turned the corner, disappeared. She could’ve been going anywhere—to the grocery store, to drop off a letter at the post office, off to go meet up with a friend—but for some reason, I had the feeling that we weren’t going to see her for a while.
“I’m not sure, bud,” I said.
“Can we go see her when she gets back? Didn’t she hear me calling her?”
“I’m sure she would’ve stopped if she had heard you,” I said, though I was pretty sure she had heard him. Not that I could fault her for not stopping, for not wanting to talk to him. Me, really. And that’s what sucked about this whole thing, I was realizing, this whole trying to date when you already had a kid. You always ran the chance that the person you were dating and your kid wouldn’t get along, but then the opposite was true, too: they might get along so well, and if and when things didn’t work out, it would be just as hard on the kid as it was on the adults that the relationship was coming to an end.
No one was home at Allie’s house the next day, Sunday, and I could tell that Declan was distracted, looking over there every once in a while. I was glad when my parents got there; at least that would give him something to take his mind off of it for a while.
I hadn’t planned on bringing up the whole fiasco with my parents, but my mother was usually pretty good about being able to tell when something was bothering me, so when Declan and my dad were settled on the deck playing a round of Go Fish, my mother cornered me in the kitchen.
“Something’s wrong,” she said. “What’s wrong?”
I hung the dish towel I’d just been drying my hands with on the oven door handle. “I broke things off with Allie.”
My mother’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Why? I thought things were going really well with her. You two made such a great couple.”
“I’m just not...it’s not the right time for me to be in a relationship.”
“What are you talking about, Cole? You’re 31, not 21.”
