Page 140 of Counting On You

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Vicky

Istep backfrom the suitcase, ready to give up.

The damn thing just won’t close even though I’ve already thrown out everything I think I might no longer need which, granted, isn’t much.

“Need help with that?”

I turn and notice Sylvie leaning against the doorframe, her long blonde hair piled up in a bun, an amused expression on her face. There’s a suitcase at her feet, which is even larger than mine. She’s dressed in sweat pants and a tank top, like she’s going to yoga and not leaving this place.

“You happen to have a trick up your sleeve?” I point to her stuffed suitcase.

“Sit on the thing, and hope for the best.” She lets out a hearty laugh as she slides to the floor and picks up one of my shirts. At some point during my struggle with the suitcase, the damn zipper broke, and I ended up scattering half the contents. My room, or the room that’s been my home for the past six weeks, looks like a mess.

“I can’t believe we’re done.” Sylvie begins to rearrange my clothes.

“It was about time.”

I try to help by handing her a dress. It’s the same red dress I wore for Kade. My heart fills with longing as I remember his approving look.

“This place wasn’t so bad, was it?” Sylvie says, shooting me a meaningful look.

“It was alright.” I cast my eyes downward, ignoring the sudden dull ache in my chest.

It’s been seven days since he left.

Seven days during which I could barely get him out of my thoughts, let alone forget him.

“I wouldn’t want to come back,” I mutter.

The day after his departure was particularly hard.

Much harder than I anticipated.

I couldn’t hold up a conversation, couldn’t eat, could barely breathe.

Days have passed and I still keep wondering whether he’s thinking of me. Whether his feelings—like mine—might be growing with each second apart.

For the first time, I’m not obsessed…like I-have-to-stalk-you obsessed. I don’t feel the need to chase him. I think of the special moments we shared, and miss him the way you would miss a good friend.

“Are you okay?” Sylvie looks up from my suitcase and frowns.

“I’m not even sure why I packed half of this stuff. I sure didn’t need it.” I avert my gaze before she can read my expression.

Letting out a loud groan, Sylvie begins to tug at the zipper, and to my surprise manages to get the thing closed.

I lean back and eye my overstuffed suitcase warily. It looks like it might be about to burst at the seams. “I can’t wait to get out. But to be honest, I also dread the long drive back home.”

“Might be a while.” Sylvie points at a top and jacket on the bed.

“No. There’s no way we’ll ever squeeze those in.” I shake my head and groan. “This will never end.”

“You still miss him, don’t you?” Sylvie says gently. The sudden change in conversation takes me off guard.

“What makes you say that?”

“You watched him leave and returned to the spot every day for a week.” Her tone is soft, accepting. It brings tears to my eyes.