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He doesn’t look happy as he leaves my bedroom. He’ll go to his room and take a shower. Get dressed. Wait for me to come out of my room. Then probably try to talk to me again, ease things over, make it better.
The conversation didn’t go the way either of us wanted. But the problem is we want entirely different things.
And evidently we always will.
As soon as he closes my bedroom door, I stand up, smoothing down the oversized T-shirt I’m wearing.
I have a choice. A very clear choice. I can go along with what Arthur said, what he wants for the both of us. I can accept it, shape myself around his desires and not mine, and end up never having what I really want.
Or I can do something else. I hear it now in Dr. Walters’s voice.You can accept less than what you want the way you always have, or you can make a difficult choice.
I stand in the middle of my room, shuddering slightly at how hard this particular choice is going to be.
But I’ve come a long way from the girl who gave up everything that was hers to do what her father wanted.
I’m not going to give up any more.
Running to the closet, I retrieve an overnight bag and stuff some clothes into it along with my laptop and tablet. Then I put my phone and charger into my purse and throw on jeans with my T-shirt. All that’s left is to put on my shoes and sneak out of the house.
I don’t have a car. It makes things difficult. I have to walk several blocks to reach a gas station where I get a rideshare.
It’s surreal. I’m actually doing this. Leaving without saying a word to Arthur—or even to Stella and Billy, who have never been anything but warm and kind to me.
But making this choice is the hardest thing in my life, and this is the only way I’ll ever get it done.
***
AN HOUR LATER, I’Msobbing on the phone with Jenna, trying to explain to her what happened. I had the rideshare drop me at a rental-car place, and I’m now driving a small rental sedan south on the highway.
“Scarlett, I’m so sorry. I can’t really understand what you’re saying. Do you think you can stop crying enough to explain it? So you just left?”
I sniff and clear my tears enough to see the road. There’s not much traffic at the moment, but that could change at any time. And accidents can happen even without other people around. “Yes. I had to get out of there.”
“And you rented a car? Are you’re driving right now?”
“Yes.”
“Well, stop. You’re too upset.”
“I’m okay.”
“Stop saying that. You’re not okay. You got your heart broken, and it’s terrible. You shouldn’t be driving.”
“But I want to come see you.”
“I want that too, but only when you’re in better shape to drive. Why don’t you stop at the first hotel you see and get a room? Spend the night there, and then you can drive down here tomorrow morning.”
That’s good advice. I know she’s right because I can feel tears pooling in my eyes again. I’m exhausted and sad and completely distracted. My father died in a car accident. I’m not going to risk the same thing happening to me.
“Okay. That’s a good idea. There will be something coming up at an exit here soon.”
“Good. But I still don’t understand why you left without saying anything to Arthur.”
“He already said what he has to say.”
“Maybe. But it doesn’t ring true to me.”
“It is true! I promise he said it.”
