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A few blocks from the Harrison mansion, I pull the car over and weigh my options.
I have no doubt that I have to return the ring – it’s a priceless heirloom and I wouldn’t take something like that from their family. It belongs to Marky, and by extension, Matt.
But I also have no doubt that if I run into Matt, I won’t be able to keep myself together.
I glance at my face in my rearview mirror. Ugh, why did I have to cry? I poke at my splotchy cheeks but they remain slightly red. My hair, as usual, is all over the place, spilling out of its topknot in little wisps.
At least my outfit is somewhat cute.
I look down at my signature tank top and jeans ensemble and shake my head. Yeah, super cute, Cora. I roll my eyes. Matt is used to elegant women who dress impeccably.
So maybe I try not to see him?
I smack my hand to my forehead. Idiot, I chide myself, it’s Monday afternoon. Like every normal person out there, he’s working. Of course he’s not home.
Reassured by this fact, I get out of the old hatchback, trying to look casual. Grabbing the envelope with the ring from the passenger seat, I slowly start to make my way toward the block where the Harrisons live.
As I walk towards the house, my heart starts thudding. I feel completely out of place in this ritzy neighborhood. Each street is lined with stately mansions and manicured lawns. The houses are spaced well apart and the lush trees provide privacy from any prying eyes. I try to act like I belong, nonchalant and airy, but inside, my heart thuds.
Finally, I reach the block that boasts the Harrison’s family home. Like the other mansions in this part of town, the house is large and beautiful, but also grand and somewhat intimidating with its white portico and stately columns. Dainty early spring flowers pour out from clay pots on the front porch, and large dogwood trees line the front walk.
I stand outside the wrought-iron gate staring at the house for a moment, caught up in its beauty.
Why didn’t things work out?
I shake my head quickly, saddened by the thought. I’m relieved that Marky and I are no longer together, but my heartbreak isn’t about him
No, I think as a single tear slides down my cheek, it’s not about Marky at all. Standing in the afternoon sunlight, taking in the stately mansion, large windows, and vibrant garden, I feel a different kind of loss. Because I think I know now just what it is to be truly in love and have it snatched away. Matt isn’t mine, and clearly, he never was. He’s retreated to the walls of this house, while I’m stuck on the outside.
Quickly, I wipe away my tears and stand up straighter.
Just put the ring in the mailbox and get out of here.
I walk along the vine-covered fence and then back again. To my surprise, it swings open easily. But where is the damn mailbox?
I squint down the walkway toward the front door. Dammit. On the front door, I can see what appears to be a mail slot. I look wistfully in the general direction of my car, thinking to just leave and have someone else come drop off the ring. Or better yet, maybe I could mail it.
But it’s a Monday, I repeat as I push open the pretty iron gate. He’s not home. As I make my way to the door, I crouch a little, as if I’m on a secret mission. I don’t expect anyone to be watching, but I feel incredibly awkward coming to Matt’s house like this, especially after everything that’s happened.
I stare up at the ostensibly heavy door, wondering if I should just knock. And risk someone being home? I lean over so I’m eye-level with the mail slot and try to push the envelope through.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
I thought I was being sensible when I put the ring in a padded envelope, to avoid scratching it in any way. But now the damned envelope won’t fit through the slot. The padding is thick and resistant, and I shove it a little harder.
This time, I manage to jam a little more of the envelope into the thin opening. Holding the envelope with both hands now, I twist it back and forth, leaning against the big door for balance. Just go in, you stupid package.
Just as I nearly finish shoving the ring through the slot, the door opens suddenly, and I find myself unceremoniously thrown onto the entryway floor. I sprawl there like an idiot, my face pressed to the cold marble floor.
Ow. I sit up and rub my leg where I fell on it.
“Cora?”
Oh no. I look up. Matt’s handsome face is looming over me, his expression confused, and suddenly I feel all peace leave my body.
