Page 41 of Promise Me

I made a small list of items to grab from my house yesterday, and running shoes were at the top of the list. But when I went to grab them, I couldn’t find them.

So I checked the app on my phone that links with my watch to see what my current stats are and learned that I haven’t run outside in months.Months.

Last thing I remember, I had a half marathon at the end of the summer that I’ve been training for.

So much for that.

I roll over in Hudson’s bed.

Looks like I’ll need to wait for the gym to open and then find out if I have the same locker. I bet that’s where my shoes are.

It’s four in the morning again, but I don't plan on sneaking down to the bakery today.

I blow out a breath.

What was my routine like?

My brain says to wake up, run, cook egg whites and spinach on gluten-free toast, and head to the bank to see if my loan for the corner space was approved.

It’s all very specific.

But the corner space is now a bar—a fully functioning bar that is actually pretty nice to hang out at.

Ugh, and this apartment.

I toss the covers off and move to the window.

The bedroom view is just as amazing as the view from the balcony off Hudson’s kitchen that looks over Main Street.

From this view, you can see the mountains behind the lodge, Lovers Lake at the base, and the cabins to the left. The homes in Lovers Hopefuls have almost doubled, but there weren’t very many to begin with, so I guess it’s okay. My small town is still small—but different.

I used to like different.

Today, not so much.

It still beats being at home, though. Sleeping and waking up in a room that’s mine but isn’t because I don’t recognize anything in it is weird. Walking around the house looking at pictures of memories I don’t have sucks. Watching my dad and brother look at me as if I am this fragile girl who might break at any moment and listening to them start a conversation around me only to cut it short because they don’t want to upset me hurts. As if the only way they know how to help me is to keep me locked up. They wouldn’t. Not for long, but I still can’t do it.

I’d rather wake up here where the idea that it's a strange place makes sense to me. With a person whose only memories of me are … less emotionally attached.

How mad would Hudson be if I just went to the kitchen to make breakfast?

Considering he got home about four hours ago, he probably wouldn’t be impressed.

I still can’t believe he’s back in Lovers.

I thought for sure he’d be a lifer away from this place. The talent he had for hockey was on another level. His dedicationwas just as intense. His parents drove him multiple nights a week to a different town for practices, and when others were spending the weekend partying, he was skating.

I think that’s why I'd always told myself that if he came back, I'd make amends. I didn’t think he’d ever actually do it.

I sit back on the bed, glancing around his room.

His room is bare. He doesn’t have any pictures in here other than one of him with his brothers, parents, and his baby sister Ruby when she was still in a diaper.

I pick it up, and my gaze falls to his mom.

She died when he was a senior in high school. She was sick like my mom, but her cancer was more aggressive and came out of nowhere. They got her diagnosis and said their goodbyes all in five months. I spent fiveyearswith my mom after we found out. It doesn’t make it easier, but I was luckier than him.

I set the photo down and look at my phone.

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