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I nod, knowing I shouldn’t need him to spell that out for me.
He tugs his arm from my touch, and I pull my hand back awkwardly.
He leaves without another word, and I watch the door close slowly at another failed relationship.
He left withhisredhead.
I should feel mad. Angered by his blatant rejection. Broken by his what, betrayal?
If I was brave enough to admit it to myself, I don’t know how I felt.
Numb.
Unsure.
Confused.
He’d arrived with Grace.
It makes sense he’d leave with her.
He made me no promises.
There were declarations of love, sure, but they all came with warnings.
Tomorrow in the future?
When was that?
Did he expect me to wait?
Would I expect him to wait?
* * *
Walkinginto the lobby with my suitcase wheels sounding noisily behind me, I smile tightly at the other wedding guests I met last night. Hoping like hell they can’t read my shame.
I see Evelyn perched at a table in the lobby, her focus on her cell, coffee held in her hand. My feet move me toward her, and I take a seat without asking.
She lifts her head slowly. “You look like shit.”
“I feel like shit.”
Sliding her cell onto the table, she gives me her entire attention.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Brooks and I when I was seventeen.”
I expected a million and one responses from her, but I didn’t expect the laughter that bubbles from her lips, forcing her to place her cup down to save it from spilling.
“Oh, God. You can’t think I actually care about that.”
I swallow down my embarrassment. “Maybe not now, but then—”
“Not even then. Jesus, Henley, I hope you haven’t been holding onto that guilt for all these years.”
