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They weren’t just together—they wereengaged.
And still, all that history wasn’t enough to keep him from leaving her at the drop of a hat.
Aunt Ava doesn’t seem to want to talk about it during the rest of Thanksgiving. I don’t push her to, but there are so many questions I want to ask.
Did she see this coming? Were there hints? Did she start to feel his affection waver months, years in advance? Were there problems with their relationship that people couldn’t see from the outside? Or was this totally out of the blue?
I tell myself I shouldn’t worry. No two relationships are the same. Plenty of relationships end every day, even those that appeared perfect for years from a distance, and that doesn’t have any bearing on any other relationship, let alone mine with Hunter.
But still, it gives me pause. It makes we want to be more cautious with my heart, when I’ve been treating it with reckless abandon ever since my lips first pressed to Hunter’s.
I’m realizing just how much Hunter holds that heart of mine in the palm of his hand—and how much it would hurt if he decided to crush it.
I feel so disconnected from the holiday festivities going on around me, locked in my thoughts like this.
I don’t want things between me and Hunter to end. But maybe it’s time I be more cautious. Maybe it’s time I put my guard up.
Maybe I should pull my heart back from Hunter’s grasp, so it won’t be his to crush anymore.
36
HUNTER
Icheck my phone for notifications again. My stomach twists when I still find that Phoebe hasn’t responded to my last text.
What gives?
We were texting all morning on Thanksgiving, but then in the middle of the day she abruptly stopped.
Okay, I get it. It was Thanksgiving. She was with her family, and she was giving them her attention. That’s cool.
I texted her later Thursday evening to ask how her Thanksgiving was. Still no response.
Okay, I thought, she’s tired. I know she helps her dad cook, and they had a lot of guests. She could’ve zonked out early.
Then, she still didn’t respond Friday morning. Or all throughout Friday. Even though she was the one who suggested we hang out the Friday after Thanksgiving.
I finally sent another text Friday evening. Her response was just,Sorry, been busy.
That’s it.
She didn’t tell me how her Thanksgiving was, or if she went shopping with her mom on Black Friday like they normally do, or ask me about my holiday. Just,Sorry, been busy.
I thought about holding off on texting her myself. That if she wanted to be flakey, I could be flakey right back.
But then I thought better of it. That’s immature. I don’t want us to be flakey with each other. I don’t want us to be playing stupid games back and forth.
After a month of hanging out together almost every day, texting all the time, without any of this stupid push and pull, I sure as fuck don’t want to start it now.
So, I sent her another text. A little while ago, Saturday evening, she finally texted me back.
Sorry. Still been busy. Maybe we’ll see each other on campus next week.
Maybe?Maybewe’ll see each other some time, next week?
Fuck that.
What’s developed between me and Phoebe over the last month sure as hell isn’t some casual situationship where we can blow each other off. Not in my mind, it isn’t, at least.
