That was pretty ironic to think about right now.

I carried my sister’s bags out to the car. Somehow she’d come with two suitcases and now, eight weeks later, had four, in addition to some artwork she wanted me to ship to her at school. Her flight wasn’t until tonight—almost seven hours from now. But she needed to stop at my apartment to pick up a few things she’d left behind and then had to be at the airport two hours before departure. Traffic this time of the year could be three hours—or even five—from Montauk to Manhattan, so that seven hours didn’t actually have too much padding built into it.

My sister tossed a backpack in the passenger seat of my car. “I’m going to go next door and say goodbye to Valentina. You want to come?” she said.

Is skipping saying goodbye and taking her home with me an option instead? I shook my head. “You go ahead. I have to grab a few things from the house still. I’ll stop over in a minute.”

Bella went next door, and I took a seat on the couch. I’d been up since we walked home at dawn, so all of my shit was packed and in the car already. I looked around the living room. Everything was back in its place, just like when we’d arrived at the start of the summer. Yet nothing was the same. I leaned my elbows on my knees, and my head dropped into my hands. My mind had been spinning for the better part of a week, but this morning was the worst. I felt dizzy as I went back and forth, debating with myself nonstop.

Maybe this didn’t have to be the end? Maybe we’d both be back out here next summer?

Goodbyes are not forever and aren’t the end; they are only until we meet again.

Or maybe I was fucking fooling myself just to make today easier, like I did at the funeral.

A part of me wanted to propose same time next year if we’re both single? But that wouldn’t be fair. I knew Val cared about me, had feelings for me. She needed to be free to experience and figure out what she really wanted. As much as it made me want to punch the wall at the thought—she needed to date. So I couldn’t say same time next year. But that couldn’t stop me from thinking it. When you loved someone, it was easier to go on day after day if you believed it wasn’t truly over.

Jesus Christ.

When you love someone…

Did I love her?

I thought about the way I could stare at her for hours while she slept. How I felt calmer and less stressed than I had in years. How I had zero interest in other women. How she’s the first person I wanted to call if anything good or bad happened.

I tugged at my hair.

Fuck.

When the hell did that happen?

A knock at the front screen door ripped me from my pity party. Val smiled sadly on the other side before letting herself in.

“Bella went to town to get junk food for the long day of travel. Ryan was going to get breakfast, so they went together.” She looked around the empty room. “Looks like you’re all ready to close up.”

I nodded.

She came and sat down next to me on the couch. Her face was free of all makeup, and it looked like she might be a little puffy from crying. Though we were up all night, so it could’ve been that, too.

I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her to me. I didn’t have the strength to look directly at her and do this.

“I suck at goodbyes, Val.” I shook my head and looked down.

Her voice was soft. “So do I.”

We were quiet for a long time. I didn’t want to walk out that door without letting her know what she meant to me, but I also needed to make sure I cut the cord. Town was only a few minutes away, so we didn’t have very long before Bella and Ryan were back.

I racked my brain to come up with the right words, but then realized I didn’t have to figure out how to summarize everything I was feeling. A wise woman had once done that for me.

I turned and cupped her cheek, allowing my thumb to stroke her soft skin one last time. “A while back you asked me if it was possible to have the right feelings at the wrong time. I didn’t understand how that was possible. But I do now.”

A tear leaked from one eye. But then she raised her chin, swallowed, and forced a smile through her sadness. And God, her strength made me fall a little bit harder. I heard the crunch of gravel next door and pulled her to me for one last kiss.

We stared into each other’s eyes until Bella opened the front door. “You ready to go, pain-in-the-ass big brother?”

She was completely oblivious at what she’d walked in on. I took one last, long look at Valentina’s face and nodded. “I guess so.”

Val and I stood. “Take care of yourself, Val.”

“You, too, Ford.”

Valentina walked out first, then Bella, then me. By the time I locked the house up, Bella was already getting into the passenger seat. Val stood at the bottom of her stairs, holding onto the banister. I had to fight myself with every step I took down the stairs and to the car not to run back and grab her—scream what she meant to me and fuck letting her go.

But I wasn’t walking away for me. I was doing it for her, and somehow that gave me the strength—though just barely.

I started the car and looked up from behind the wheel one last time before backing out of the driveway. Our eyes met. Inwardly, I said what I needed to believe was possible, but on the outside I only waved.

Same time next year, maybe?

Chapter 28

* * *

Ford

Two weeks dragged by.

I had no contact with Valentina after I left with Bella. Our only connection had been Montauk and Match, and the summer was over. Though I had taken to stalking Match.com once or twice a day—checking to see if her profile had changed to active. Logically, I understood that I hadn’t fought for her because she needed to see other people—so her profile should change to active. But it was going to slice my heart in two when it did.

In a fucked-up way, I wanted that to happen. I wanted the pain, wanted to know she’d moved on. Maybe being jealous and pissed off would make it easier for me to do just that.

Tonight I’d made plans with Logan, even though I hadn’t been in the mood to go out. He’d busted my balls about being scarce all summer until I agreed to meet for drinks. I figured one drink wouldn’t kill me. We sat at the bar bullshitting for two hours. I’d intentionally picked a place I knew wasn’t a hookup hotspot. I wasn’t in the mood to spend the night talking to a bunch of women I had no interest in.

But I guess that didn’t work out too well.

“Are these seats taken?” a tall blonde said.

I looked around the bar. There were plenty of other open seats. But Logan beat me to the answer.

He pulled out the stool next to him. “We were holding them, just waiting for the two of you to get here.”

I rolled my eyes.

The women giggled.

“I’m Gianna,” the blonde said. She had on a low-cut red shirt, and her tits were spilling out of it.

“I’m Amber.” The brunette offered me her hand.

“Logan Flint.” He lifted Gianna’s hand and brought it to his lips.

No one flirted more than Logan. He didn’t know how to turn it off. It either got him laid or got him smacked—it was fifty-fifty, odds he did pretty damn well with.

“Ford.” I nodded and shook Barbie Number One’s hand.

I might not have been in the mood for company, but there was nothing wrong with my eyesight. They were both pretty. Sexy, actually. Though, I found myself comparing them to Valentina.

Val had a natural beauty, a girl-next-door look that let you see who she was right away. Most women wore masks. I’d never understood why they put so much makeup on, especially when they were young. They painted their entire faces—eyebrows, eyelids, cheekbones, noses, lips—until their skin looked artificial. They thought it hid their flaws, but to me it hid their beauty.

Logan called the bartender over and told him to put whatever the ladies were drinking on his tab. While they were ordering, he leaned over to me. “Dibs on the blonde.”

“You can have both, buddy.”

He squinted at me like I had two heads. As fucked up as it was, it felt wrong to be talking to women in a bar.

I was single and hadn’t spoken to Valentina in two weeks, yet my heart felt like it was cheating. I had to force myself to stick around and finish my beer while making conversation. Despite my mood, the ladies turned out to be pretty nice. I’d judged them because they cared about their appearances and approached men in a bar. But Amber turned out to be an attorney, and Gianna was a teacher. I found myself asking Gianna questions about her job—what she’d thought of her first year teaching and what time she got out in the afternoons.

Basically, I was desperate to know how Valentina was enjoying her first few weeks and used this woman as a substitute.

The bar had gotten busier, and they’d turned up the music, which made it difficult to hold a conversation.