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“Just like what?”
“You’re giving up on us. You’re running again. This time, it’s your decision, though. No one is forcing you to run. You have a choice and that’s what you’re choosing.”
“No one can force me to stay either,” I reply, sliding my hand from his and standing.
“No, no, I can’t.”
Heading back to Wyatt’s house, the realization of everything I just did sets in. I want him to know I’m not giving up, I’m giving him time, but he can’t see that. I’m giving him an out. I don’t want him to feel obligated to stay true to the promise he made me so long ago.
Gathering my things, I call and make a one-night reservation at the bed and breakfast. I’ll swing back tomorrow morning to say goodbye to Lola. Wyatt offered to explain things to her for me, but the thought brought tears to my eyes.
I’ve been without her for a night before, but never for longer than that. Never for more than twenty-four hours. Two weeks is going to be the death of me, even if we talk on the phone every day.
Heading into Wyatt’s room to make sure I didn’t leave anything else, I see it. In a shadow box on his wall above the fireplace. The note I wrote him before I left. The two words that changed everything for us. The same two words I want to say to him right now.
I’m sorry.
