“I miss you,” he mumbles.
I hastily sip my coffee. I don’t say it back, because the truth is…I don’t miss him. Right after we broke up, sure, of course I did. But since then, I’ve had other things on my mind. The play. Dean…
When I don’t respond, he continues with a dejected look. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since you ended it. A lot of soul-searching.”
I finally find my voice. “That’s good. I’m glad.”
“I was thinking back to the last six months, and I realized how badly I screwed up. I was such an ass to you, Allie.” His expression is earnest. “But now I know why.”
My throat tightens. “Why?”
“Because I was scared.”
Aw shit. There’s vulnerability swimming in his eyes. I battle the overwhelming urge to reach across the table and squeeze his hand.
It’s not my job to take care of him anymore.
“You’ve had your entire future planned out since you were twelve. You knew exactly what you wanted to do, and that’s so fucking rare. Not a lot of people can say that.” His tone grows rueful. “I sure as hell can’t. I didn’t grow up dreaming about working for my dad’s insurance company. But it’s a guaranteed job, and not a lot of people have that, especially coming out of college, but it’s not like I’ve been chomping at the bit to go back to Vermont.”
“You sure made it sound like you were,” I point out.
“Because it’s the only option I have.” He sounds frustrated. “I was trying to get myself excited about it. And…honestly, picturing you there with me made the idea of going home more bearable. An easier pill to swallow, I guess. But it wasn’t fair to you. I had no right to insist that you sacrifice the future you want just so I could feel better about the future I’m stuck with.”
I’m dumb-founded. Sean hadn’t given any indication that he didn’t want to be in Vermont, but I suppose that’s yet another sign of the communication breakdown between us.
“You told me on our very first date that you planned on moving to LA after graduation. You kept telling me that, up until the moment we broke up.” He shakes his head, shame-faced. “But this summer I decided not to hear it anymore. I convinced myself that I was the most important thing in your life and you’d go wherever you had to in order to be with me.”
“That’s not a fair expectation to have of anyone,” I say softly. “You can’t order someone to put your happiness ahead of their own.”
“I know, and I was wrong to give you an ultimatum. I told you, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.” He takes a breath. “I came to a few conclusions.”
My stomach drops when he sticks one hand in his jacket pocket. Oh dear God. Please don’t let him pull out a velvet jeweler’s box.
Is it crazy that I almost wish he’s going for a gun? That he plans on holding everyone hostage until I agree to get back together with him? For some screwed up reason, I think I’m better equipped to handle that than a proposal.
But his hand emerges with a narrow envelope. He sets it on the tabletop.
“What’s that?” I stare at the envelope as if it contains Anthrax.
“Open it,” he urges.
Fuckity fuck.
“Please.”
The sincerity in his tone causes me to cave. I pick up the envelope. It’s sealed, but the flap is tucked in so I use my fingernail to pry it out. I peek inside and see a single sheet of paper, which I extract and unfold as I fight my growing trepidation.
Shock hits me first. Followed by suspicion. Followed by deep distress, because…what the heck am I supposed to say to this?
I’m staring at a confirmation receipt for two airline tickets to Los Angeles, California. The flight departs the day after graduation.
I bite my lip and lift my gaze to Sean’s.
“You and me, baby,” he says fervently. “This is what I should’ve done in the first place. It was stupid to try and force you to move to Vermont. What I needed to do was swallow my pride and move to LA. With you.”
Oh God. Why did I insist on meeting in public? Public is bad. Public means everyone is about to witness Sean’s agony and humiliation when I say—
“No.”
Uncertainty passes over his face. “What?”
“You’re not coming to LA with me.”
Sean’s mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens again. I give him a moment to digest what I just said. Unfortunately, it’s the same moment my phone buzzes. I dig around in my purse and…wonderful, a text from Dean.
Him: Game’s done. Hurricanes rocked it like a hurricane. Beau can’t meet up til later. Quickie?
God, I wish.
Me: Can’t. In the middle of something brutal over here.
“Why not?” Sean finally asks.
“Because…” I’m distracted.
Him: Everything ok?
Me: Yeah. Having coffee with Sean.
There’s an interminably long delay.
Sean is still waiting for me to answer. I’m waiting for Dean to answer. I realize I probably shouldn’t have said anything to Dean, but I’d been typing on autopilot.
He comes back with: