Page 132 of The Billionaire's Wake-up-call Girl

“Exactly,” I say. “And last I checked, I could get that van early.”

“I’ll be here a little bit…” But I see in her face that she gets it. I’d just be waiting here alone to leave. Trying not to call him. “Honey.”

“And you can help me load this way.”

She snorts. “Oh, I see. I get it now.”

Of course the day would be beautiful. Sixty and sunny with that fresh, crisp March air. We find a parking spot for my rented U-Haul right in front of our building. A whole passel of our friends from last night show up to help me.

The hauling goes fast—almost too fast. We have a farewell meal of pizza and beer in the empty space that was once my bedroom.

I eat the pizza sans beer—I’ve got a long night of driving ahead of me. I want to at least get to Pennsylvania before midnight.

We say our tearful goodbyes. Mia promises again and again to make a summer trek to Fargo.

I head out.

Midtown is jam-packed with Saturday evening traffic. Everybody heading out to dinner before Broadway shows. It makes me sad.

Not that I ever go to Broadway shows, but I could’ve gone to them, and now I can’t.

I tell myself it’s only temporary, that I’ll be back. I’ll again be one of those people who could go to Broadway shows but doesn’t. I’ll once again be hanging out with friends and going to restaurants in the same five-square-block area I love.

My pep talk to myself goes on.

In Fargo, I’ll work alongside my parents, and we’ll be the Three Musketeers again. I’ll be able to see stars in the night sky. I’ll drive my own car, and there will be giant parking places everywhere I go. There will be grass all around. Green grass. It will be awesome.

And I’ll get on my own two feet and nobody will be able to control or manipulate me.

There’s construction everywhere, including on Harlem River Drive—my detours have detours and eventually I’m in a sea of honking cars on Willis Avenue Bridge, being carried along in the massive crawl of traffic.

And there, just up the river, I see the Third Avenue Bridge. Thebridge.

The crawl slows, and eventually it’s gridlock. And I’m stuck there with the memory of Theo’s intense guilt echoing in my heart. The tragedy of his family. The sense of responsibility that seems to drive him.

He thinks if he’d stuck around and taken the keys away from his father, that his mother would be alive.

It’s probably not true, but he thinks it is.

Just like he thinks it’s up to him and him alone to invent something to save wounded people from dying of blood loss in remote regions. The whole world on his shoulders.

The ultimate control freak. How can I be with somebody like that?

But as I go over it now, locked in a parade of honking horns, an alternate perspective takes shape in my mind.

He handed me something of vast importance that day under the bridge—a vulnerable secret truth from deep in his heart. Something he’d never told anybody ever before.

He told me a secret, but it’s more than a secret—he gave me the ability to see him in a way other people can’t. To see what drives him.

Theo is a controlling guy who thinks he’s responsible for everything. I thought that doomed our relationship.

Now I see what his control issues really are—they’re dragons. Dragons that we can fight together. Because we’re good together like that.

You make me believe impossible things.

I feel as if some kind of fog has lifted. I want to turn around. I want to find him and apologize. But what if it’s too late? He apologized so many times on text and voicemail, even tried to see me.

I ignored him. I gave up the fight too soon. I ran from the edge.

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