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“It was a mistake. We can still make this work.”
“No, we can’t.”
“No, it’s not over, Tilly. Please—”
“You don’t get it. We can’t be anything but over,” I said, trying to sound casual, even though it felt like a knife was slicing open my vulnerable teenage heart. My first love was holding that knife, and I hated him for it.
His shocked eyes peered into mine, searching for something that I was unwilling to give. “But I love you.”
I shook my head. “No, this isn’t love.”
“Then what is it?”
Clearing my throat, I wiped the last tear from my cheek. “I think it’s pretty obvious, don’t you? It’s goodbye, Wyatt.”
And even though the only thing that I truly wanted was for Wyatt to take me in his arms, to feel his lips on mine, and to pretend like everything really would be okay, I knew myself. And I also knew that things between us would never be the same. And so, I blocked out the part of my heart that ached for normalcy, that yearned for Wyatt to be the boy I always thought he was, to believe him when he said we could still be happy together, even if it was across an immense ocean. Instead, I placed a firm grasp on reality and made a snap decision, and it was the hardest choice I’d made in my first seventeen years.
Turning on my heels, I walked away from Wyatt Johansen, not saying another word. He called to me three times before admitting defeat and joining his family. The limousine passed me as I walked home, and that aching part of my heart wanted it to stop, for him to try one more time.
But that didn’t happen. And I wept the rest of the way home.
