Page 69 of Love Story

I chuckled softly, gesturing toward the steaming pans.“Same as always.Busy, sticky, never-ending.”

Harriet wandered closer, her sharp eyes taking in everything like always.“This place is the heart of the farm, isn’t it?”

I nodded, but my thoughts were elsewhere.My fingers fiddled with the edge of the rag as I debated how to steer the conversation.

“So, Ben sent me some photos of his hotel in Boston.”

“And you’re telling me this why?”Wow, way to sound rude.“Sorry, bad night.”Bad few days.Seemed I couldn’t sleep without Ben tucked in my arms.

“It’s okay, Sam.I know you miss him.I do, too.Any who… his hotel is this adorable, converted firehouse hotel near MIT, and he said he’s busy working.”

My stomach twisted at the mention of him, the mental image of Ben in Boston flashing in my mind.“‘Busy working’, huh?”I said, keeping my voice neutral as I returned to my task.

Harriet didn’t press.“He’s been quiet in our calls, but he seems… okay.I think he’s sorting things out.”

His calls?To Harriet?There went my last hope.I filed the information away, unsure what to do with it.He hadn’t replied to my texts, not even the one where I’d asked if he’d made it to Boston safely.There’d been nothing from him since he left, not a single word.

“Good to know,” I muttered, scraping the last syrup into a jar.“He’s probably got a lot on his plate.”

Harriet said nothing for a moment, but when I glanced at her, her expression was thoughtful.“Sam,” she began, “I know it’s not my place, but sometimes people imagine they can do everything alone and don’t ask for help.Or worse, they don’t know how to return from what they’ve done.”

I nodded, the weight of her words settling heavily in my chest.“Yeah,” I said.“Maybe.”

Harriet gave me a small smile, reaching out to squeeze my arm.“Take care of yourself, Sam.And don’t overthink things.”

As she left, her words lingered.I stared at the bubbling sap, the warmth of the sugar shack suddenly stifling.Ben was out there, in Boston, figuring out his life.

And me?I was here, rooted in the farm, surrounded by the life I’d always known, happy here.

But sad without him.

Devastated.

So damn angry.

Sad.

Broken.

I told myself I didn’t need answers or closure.But deep down, I wasn’t sure how long I could keep pretending.

Conor: Beer at mine?

Haider: I’m in

Ryan: See you in thirty

Me: I’ll try

Conor: Do or do not.There is no try

Me: Fuck off

Conor: Rude

Whatever.

I made it to Conor’s place an hour later, still in work clothes, desperate to see my friends and for them to slap the idiocy out of my head.Ben was gone.I was here.

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