Page 75 of Room for Us

I will never, ever forget this woman.

Keep her.

The thought comes, sticking like honey.

“Come back to New York. Be with me.”

I’m hardly aware of the words, of what they mean. I only know that I don’t want to say goodbye. More than that, I’m not sure I can.

And now that I’ve said them, I feel them. Every moment, from first to last, that she’s been in my life. Every smile and frown. The curve of her waist. The taste of her sweat. Her laugh and voice. Her grumpy muttering. And I won’t take the words back, even when she freezes beneath me.

Even when she pushes me away and scrambles off the dryer. Even when she grabs her clothes.

“Zoey! Wait!” I gasp.

Her eyes flicker to me—huge and terrified—before she runs from the room, leaving me bereft, breathless, my chest aching like it’s been punched.

And just like that, I know it’s over. I ruined it with my big mouth and selfish, stupid heart.

41

Compartmentalizing is hard, but not impossible. The following morning, I serve my guests breakfast and chat with Daphne about their plan to ride horses. She’s so excited I don’t think she notices the forced edge to my smile, or how I don’t look directly at her father.

Come back to New York. Be with me.

How can words be so painful and healing at the same time? Then again, maybe it was the passion of the moment and he didn’t mean them. I could ask, of course, but I’m a coward. Even the idea of that conversation makes me want to hurl.

I’m not going to move back to the city, not when I feel like I’ve finally come home.

I won’t. I can’t.

I care about Ethan. Might even be in love with him. But what does that actually mean? I could be rebounding without knowing it, which isn’t fair to him. What if how I feel is merely a side-effect of my new freedom?

Dammit. Just when I felt solid ground under my feet, I’m free-falling again.

“Earth to Zoey!”

I focus on Daphne’s upturned face. “Hi. Sorry. I spaced out for a second there. What did you ask me?”

“I asked if you wanted to come with us. If Dad calls ahead, I’m sure they’ll let you join.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ethan’s grimace. Either he’s not a fan of his daughter name-dropping him to get what she wants, or he really doesn’t want to spend more time with me than absolutely necessary. Not that I blame him.

The shadows under his eyes poke holes in my heart and threaten to sink it. I’m the reason they’re there. As sure as a slap to the face, I rejected him last night. Physically. Emotionally.

“Oh, that sounds great, but I have a ton of work to do around the inn today.”

Before Daphne can voice the protest on her face, Ethan says, “If you’re finished eating, why don’t you go upstairs and get ready? We need to leave in twenty.”

Daphne acquiesces, the prospect of horse-riding overriding all other thoughts. The moment she’s gone, the space becomes abnormally quiet. I’m pretty sure if I concentrated hard enough, I could hear my own heartbeat. Maybe his, too.

I clear Daphne’s place setting, wincing at the overly loud sound of utensils clanking against the plate. Drawing back, I clutch the plate, rim pressed tight to my sternum, and look at Ethan’s downturned profile.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt, “about last night.”

After a pause, he says mutedly, “I know. Me, too. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

For some reason, the words don’t make me feel the least bit better. My shoulders sag. “Okay.”

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