Page 65 of Love Story

As if that wasn’t enough, Mom was down with a migraine, and I had to step in to deal with the local elementary school for their annual field trip to the farm.Wired with excitement, ten kids tromped through the sugarhouse while I tried to explain how syrup was made.Meanwhile, their teacher and a few frazzled parents kept offering me apologetic smiles as they wrangled the chaos.

I felt exhausted after the kids left, each of them clutching tiny syrup bottles like prized possessions.I wiped my hands on a towel and glanced at the clock.The morning had slipped away, and the farm was still a mess, but what could I do?The farm always took priority; today, it needed me more than ever.

I managed to send Ben a couple of messages.He hadn’t replied, but that was okay; I was seeing him now and was already smiling when Harriet answered the door.

“I’m here for Ben,” I began, but she shook her head to stop me and pressed a finger to trembling lips.“What’s wrong?Are you okay?”

“Ben’s left for Boston, Sam.”

“What?When?He didn’t tell me he was going—”

She handed me a note folded in four.

“What’s this?”

“He said I should give you that.”

I opened it up and read it to myself.

Sorry.

I turned it over for more—he hadn’t signed his name or put initials on it or anything.What the hell?

“He never said… He got messages, but he said they were nothing.Has something happened?”Why wouldn’t he have messaged me?

Fear gripped me.Had trouble found him?Was he in danger?

“He didn’t say,” Harriet said.“He packed his luggage, said goodbye, and left.”

“Is he coming back?”

She shook her head, and her eyes, so much like Ben’s, were bright with emotion.“He said he’d try his hardest to come back.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.”

I was upsetting her, and I backed off.“Are you okay, Harriet?”I asked, ignoring the fact my heart was breaking.He’d left.No goodbye, no message, just a sorry?

“Are you?”she countered, and although I was far from fucking okay, I nodded.I was broken into pieces, but I didn’t say anything.

After we’d exchanged goodbyes, I headed down the path, checking my cell—maybe he’d finally left a message?

Still nothing.

I scared him away.I told him he was my forever and freakingmadehim leave.

Had he ghosted me?Was this ghosting?He would have messaged me if he meant me to know, right?

As I returned to my car, I moved from sadness to regret to anger and started to write a message.

Why did you go without saying goodbye…backspace and delete

Why would you do this without telling me…backspace and delete

Are you coming back… backspace and delete

Sam: Hope you made it to Boston okay.

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