Page 50 of The Art of Catching Feelings

This was what she had wanted. Better, in a way, because he was the one calling it quits and she didn’t have to feel guilty about being the one to pull away. So why did it feel so awful?

D: I guess nowhere.

C: Fair enough.

How could he say that, when nothing about this felt fair? And it was all her fault. She’d made a mess of this whole thing, and in that moment, her yearning to go back in time and do it all differently was a physical ache. Hot tears were sliding down her cheeks, but she didn’t bother to wipe them away as she texted her response.

D: Take care, Chris.

The three dots bouncing up on the screen, then disappearing. He was typing. It was several minutes before the reply came in.

C: You, too.

Daphne was leaning against her steering wheel, no longer actively crying but still sniffling a little, when a knock came at her window and scared the shit out of her. Her elbow hit her car horn, making it bleat just as she let out a little scream. She looked up to see Chris taking a step back from the car, his hands in his pockets.

She rolled down her window.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Everything okay?”

It was the same question he’d asked her only half an hour ago via text. Or rather, he’d askedDuckie. Her alter ego that he was no longer speaking to.

“Fine,” she said, resisting the urge to wipe at her eyes. She knew they were probably red and swollen, but she hoped that the parking lot was dark enough to conceal the evidence of her crying. “Just waiting on roadside assistance.”

That was a lie, since technically she’d never submitted that service ticket. But she would, as soon as he left.

He shifted his weight to one foot, squinting out toward the other cars in the lot. There were still other people at the ballpark. She recognized Randy’s sleek new sports car, Marv’s giant SUV.

“Why don’t you wait in the clubhouse?” he asked. “I can walk you over there and let you in.”

“Oh,” Daphne said, trying for a smile and hoping it came across as natural. “That’s okay, but thank you. They’ll be here any minute.”

“I’ll wait with you.”

The absolute last thing Daphne wanted, especially given that it would probably be half an houraftershe put in the ticket, if past experience was anything to go by.

“That’s really not—”

“I’ll just be over here.” He gestured toward the space next to hers before walking away, leaning against one of the streetlamps as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He checked it briefly before putting it away. His expression didn’t betray anything that he might be thinking, and she was left wondering if their conversation had affected him as much as it had affected her.

She wanted him to care as much as she did.

She didn’t want to have hurt him. Again.

It was all too confusing, and having him standing only a few feet away wasn’t helping matters.

She started filling out the assistance form in the app, then got frustrated and decided just to call. After the technician had established that she was safe, she heard the clicking of a keyboard and then he came back on the line.

“We don’t have any drivers in your area at the moment,” he said. “It’s going to be at least forty-five minutes, more likely an hour or so. Do you still want to request service?”

“What’s my other option?”

She’d meant it as a rhetorical question, but the technician jumped in to explain. “If you’re going to have the car towed to a service center, you can schedule that for tomorrow and someone can meet you out there. We can help arrange a rideshare if needed, although you will be responsible for any charges through that company. We can—”

“Okay,” Daphne said, interrupting. “Never mind. I can figure it out.”

“Are you sure? Because—”

“Yes,” she said. “Thank you so much. You’ve been very helpful.”

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