LIZZIE DROVE AROUND for an hour, vacillating between going back and trying to explain and patch things up with Blue and being too angry to see straight. How could he tell her that she was fooling herself? She knew just how low she felt about what she was doing every goddamn day, but she also knew how important it was to have a college degree these days. Not to mention that if she’d had to manage her school loans after college, she’d still be working in some shitty little flower shop for ten dollars an hour, destined to be doing so forever.
She’d been innovative, and she’d found a way to climb out from under her debt and help her sister avoid having to do the same. She should be proud of her accomplishments. That was what she’d told herself for all these years, but now none of that held the same weight, and the shame of it all was that she’d never meant to hurt anyone else. Least of all Blue. She never meant to fall in love with him, and she didn’t mean to keep this from him, but it wasn’t exactly something a person brought up on a date.
By the way, I’m the Naked Baker, just in case you were wondering what I did in my spare time. She’d bet that wouldn’t have gone over very well.
She drove up and down the highway, berating herself and building herself up in equal measure, until she realized it was two in the morning and she still had a video to edit.
It was only after she’d edited the video and she’d fallen into bed alone, in her dark, silent bedroom that reality settled over her like a storm cloud, and her insides twisted until she could barely breathe.
She’d ruined them.
She’d lost the only man she’d ever loved.
Now it was six thirty in the morning and she had no idea if Blue was coming over to finish the renovations, or if he hated her and they’d never speak again. She felt his absence in the kitchen where he’d left heart prints, like fingerprints, in everything he did. She ran her hand over the counter, thinking of how many times she’d left him notes, expecting to come home and find them in the trash only to realize he’d taken them with him. How many times had the sound of his truck pulling up in the morning set her heart aflame? How many mornings had she hurried out before he arrived because she worried he’d see her attraction to him written all over her face?
She debated staying home to see if he came over, but the thought of seeing the hurt in his eyes again, hearing the venom in his voice, made her queasy. Even her skin stung with the painful memory. Not that she blamed Blue for his reaction. There was only one way that conversation could have gone down. She’d known that from their first date, hadn’t she? Wasn’t that why she hadn’t accepted the dates in the first place? And once she had, wasn’t that why she kept putting off telling him about the webcast? Because being with Blue felt so good and so incredibly right that the thought of ruining their relationship had made her sick to her stomach. Didn’t she put it off so she could eke out as much time as she possibly could with him? To enjoy every kiss. To revel in the feel of his arms around her. To soak in his heartfelt words until she absolutely had to come clean?
She drove into town feeling selfish for having waited so long and fighting tears at every turn, her anguish almost overcoming her control. She parked and walked down the pier in the early-morning fog, a stab of guilt buried deep in her chest. Normally she loved this time of day, before shops opened and tourists filled the streets, but now it amplified her loneliness. She pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her head and shoved her hands deep in her pockets, warding off the morning chill. Fishermen readied their boats beside the pier, and two older women walked down the beach, bundled up in jackets and hats. Strangers went about their business like normal, while Lizzie tried to hold on to the pieces of her broken heart.
She choked back tears, wishing Blue were with her and willing to talk things through. She could almost feel his hand on her back, see the mischievous glint in his eyes as he pulled her in close—he was always pulling her in close, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. Was. She nearly choked on the word.