Page 15 of Under Pink Skies

I heard Imogen place the cups in the sink and turn off the lights in my apartment, coming by to press a quick kiss to my forehead.

“Get some sleep, Abs. I’ll be in the living room if you need me. See you in the morning.”

I lay awake staring at the ceiling, listening to the distant thunder roll over the mountain hills, only closing my eyes to sink into the memory of quiet mountain nights spent with Connor in the back of his truck, where we traded love confessions and dreams, and swore to always hold on to each other.

He left you.

He left you.

He left you.

Chapter 6

Connor

AfewdaysafterKameron broke the news that we’d be sponsoring the Founder’s Festival, we decided it would be best if we went to Watford in person. Kameron wanted to scope out the physical specs of the festival space so we could start designing signage and pamphlets to promote the festival. We also wanted to create graphics we could share on social media, to encourage people to book their cabins early, if they wanted to stay at the new campsite. Lucas wanted to create the festival playlist of all things, as well as scope out the “vibes” of the place. His words, not mine.

I asked my therapist if we could meet earlier in the week compared to our usual time on Fridays, and the appointment with Anna had been interesting, to say the least.

“So how are you feeling about the festival?” she’d asked me on our Zoom call, adjusting her notebook in her lap and giving me her full attention.

“It’s complicated.”

“I can imagine. What feelings should we discuss first?”

I shrugged. My therapist knew me far too well. Anna knew how to phrase questions in a way that helped me move forward, rather than keeping everything inside.

“I guess I’m feeling anxious.”

She nodded, waiting for me to continue. I took a deep breath, rubbing my sweaty palms against my jeans.

“When I left Watford, I swore I would never go back. The minute I saw that place in my rearview mirror, I vowed to myself that those chapters of my life were closed.”

“Because of your uncle?”

My chest tightened. “Yeah.”

“Just your uncle?”

I paused. I hadn’t brought up Abbie in therapy yet. I’d been so focused on working through my childhood that I hadn’t caught up to my teenage years.

“And because when I left Watford, I also left behind someone I really cared for.”

“Watford brings up memories of this person for you.”

I let out a small laugh, running a still sweaty hand through my blond hair, shaking my head. I crossed my arms over my chest reflexively.

“That person is still there, apparently. She’s actually the festival organizer.”

Anna hummed, leaning back in her chair. “So, presumably, you’ll have to interact with this person a lot in the coming weeks.”

“I’d like to avoid that as much as possible.”

Liar.

Despite everything, I wanted to be close to her. I simply hadn’t allowed myself that kind of daydreaming in recent years, because there was no way in hell she would ever look at me with those kind blue eyes ever again—not after everything I’d put her through.

“Something tells me that might not be the full truth,” Anna said with a small smile.

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