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Chapter Twenty-One

Grayson

THE NEXT MORNING, I wake up as the sun is rising. Usually Mondays are my day to sleep in, but I’m pretty sure my subconscious is telling me that checking on Riley is more important.

I grab some of the chicken pot pie leftovers that I brought home from the family reunion, a couple bottles of water, and a mini loaf of banana bread, and then head over to her campsite.

As I pull up, I notice the chairs are missing. Her small grill she keeps on the picnic table is gone and so is everything else that littered the site. I get out of the car and see that the zipper door to her tent is half open and as I get to the edge of the ladder, her head of red hair pops out.

“Grayson, what are you doing here?” she says, shock covering her face

“Gennie told me you were sick, and I wanted to check on you.” I look around the site and back at her. “But I’m thinking that isn’t why you didn’t come to work.”

She takes a deep breath and climbs down the ladder to meet me.

128

T. SPEAR

“Listen Grayson. I have had an amazing time with you. I never would have been able to do all the things we did together if it weren’t for you. And I appreciate it.”

“But…” A weight sinks down in my stomach. My body heats. I know what’s coming.

“But I have to leave. I told you I can’t stay here.” Her eyes swell with tears

I run my hands down my face, holding back the tears I feel pricking the backs of my eyes.

“No, yeah. I know. It’s just, I thought I had more time with you.”

She wipes the tears from her eyes before they fall and moves around me to the back of her Jeep. She opens the hatch door and pulls out a small box.

“I was going to leave this on your doorstep.”

I follow her a couple steps. “You were going to leave without saying goodbye?”

“I know that’s shitty of me, but goodbyes are hard, and I wanted to avoid hurting you as much as possible.”

“Finding you gone would have hurt more.”

“Here. I want you to have this.”

She hands me the box and I go to pull the string that is holding it together. Her hand lands on mine.

“No. Don’t open it now. Open it when you’re ready.”

“I am ready.”

WHEN YOU'RE READY

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“No, you’re not. But you will know when you are.”

“Okay, I trust you.”

There are a couple minutes of silence as I fiddle with the box in my hand.

“I guess this is goodbye then.”

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