Page 61 of Weekends with You

“That’s it, then?”

“It’s pretty clear that’s it, don’t you think?” He said nothing, only stared at me with bloodshot eyes that made his irises look like emeralds nestled in clay. “I just feel like we’re never quite on the same page,” I continued, “and it’s a bit daft to keep trying. Besides, now I’ve made a fool of myself, and I’d like to walk away with at least a shred of dignity.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Please don’t,” I said. The last thing I needed was pity, and I was certain I’d burst into tears if he was nice to me right now.

We got my luggage and called a cab in silence, though I was sure my heartbeat was loud enough that all of Amsterdam could hear it. By some miracle, the last flight out of Amsterdam to London was at eleven, and there were still a few open seats. I booked it from the cab, then said a silent thank-you to a higher power I wasn’t even sure I believed in.

Coming home tonight,I texted Raja.Not keen on talking about it yet, but I’ll be home some time after midnight. Don’t wait up. Just thought I’d let you know.

A pair of tears finally broke free as I waited for her response, imagining what I would tell her whenever Iwaskeenon talking about it. A few more tears followed, then a few more, until I was fully crying in the back of a cab in a foreign country.

Are you safe?she asked.

Yes, yes. In a cab on the way to the airport. Gutted, but unharmed otherwise.

I’ll wait up,she said.And I know I don’t have to, so don’t bother arguing. And we don’t have to talk right away. But I’ll be here. Safe flight, Lu. xx

That made me cry even harder. I couldn’t wait to get home to her and out of Amsterdam and far away from Henry. I was never good at being rejected, but it hurt even more after coming all this way. After I’d misread every sign. After I’d learned he was right when he told me he sometimes has a habit of saying things he doesn’t mean. After I’d taken a chance, put myself out there, convinced myself taking a risk was a good idea. After I’d tried to be more generous with my heart.

It was a good thing I hadn’t written anything about putting myself out there on my New Year’s resolution, because at this rate, I was never going to do it again, ever.

“Oh, good. You’re here,” Renee said before she was even fully through the door.

“I’m always here.”

“Right, I wanted to talk to you about something.” She dropped her purse onto the counter, followed by her coat, then motioned for me to have a seat.

“What’s going on? You’re making me nervous.”

“No, no, nothing like that.” She waved her hand like she was brushing away my concern, then readjusted her glasses soshe could see me better. “The Renaissance asked us to do the window displays for their opening.” I searched for something to say, but she continued before I had a chance. “And I think we should do it.”

“The Renaissance?” I asked, making sure I’d heard her correctly.

Shortly after the morning Renee and I saw the suits and clipboards and handshakes across the street, it had been announced that the Renaissance, a posh new restaurant, would be taking over the space. Their chef was some hypercreative thirtysomething who was causing quite a stir in the restaurant industry, and the restaurant’s facade was already making a bit of noise on our otherwise quiet street. In a line of unimposing beige storefronts with the occasional faded awning, its ruby-red entryway made it impossible to ignore.

“That’s the one,” Renee confirmed. “Apparently we were recommended to one of their designers, and since we’re local, they want us to do the arrangements.”

“Who would have recommended us?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, but I’m not quite sure that matters, does it? This is a huge opportunity, Lucy. And I’ve been thinking more about what you’ve been saying, and I think you’re right. If we want to stay afloat, we have no choice but to do something like this.”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean,” I said, squinting at her. “Are we really doing this?”

“Well, you more so than me, I’d hoped. I mean, of course I’ll be around to help, but I was hoping you’d take point on this one. I’m getting to be a bit of an old bag, so I’m not sure I’d accept this without you.” She’d been making jokes lately about her age (which was usually my job), but since they seemed to be coming from a place of insecurity on her end, I tried to letthem be. Surely she still had a few more years of floristry in her, right? She wasn’tthatold. “After the wedding,” she continued, “I just figured—”

“Of course,” I interrupted. “It’ll be my honor.”

“There’s just a minor issue.”

I raised an eyebrow, too nervous to ask.

“It’s during this month’s Warehouse Weekend,” she said. “And I hate to ask you to work on the only weekend of the month you take off, and I know it’s last minute, but I thought you’d want the opportunity.”

“Oh, er, I—”

“I know you probably want to be home to see Henry, to maybe patch things up, but you’ve been wanting a chance like this, haven’t you? I’d hate for you to throw it away for a boy, no matter how dreamy he might be.”

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