Finally satisfied, I sign the bottom corner and carefully pull the page from my book.
“You made us look old!” Miss Lily exclaims.
My cheeks heat. “Oh, I didn’t mean-”
“We are old,” Mr. Tae chuckles.
“Exactly. Young people are too obsessed with being young. Age is a wonderful thing.” She turns a sparkling smile on me. “Thank you.” She says something to Mr. Tae, and he reaches for his wallet.
“Don’t you dare.”
“You can’t do work for free.”
I shake my head. “Your company was payment enough.” They narrow their eyes at me, clearly ready to argue. “If you’d like, you can tell me your best recommendations for food in the city. I just moved here not too long ago and don’t know what’s good.”
We spend ten more minutes together, Miss Lily giving me a comprehensive list of dos and don’ts of Boston’s restaurants.
They thank me again, and I watch them walk away, hand in hand. Sure, their ease together could be decades in the making, but something tells me, at some level, it’s innate. Two people who simply fit.
It’s a nice thought, the idea that someone out there could mesh with all your jagged edges. And I’ve seen people in my life find that—Belle and her late husband, my brother and his wife—I just can’t seem to envision the same for me.
I finally pull my phone out and start to walkin what I think is the direction of the stop I got off at, testing my navigation skills.
Before getting to Cillian, I tend to every other missed notification from the past few hours, even pausing at a bench to watch a random cute cat video from Belle.
He sent a heart reaction to the picture from the bridge, and a few messages.
Cillian
I really should just print this out and tape it to the office door. Something to keep me sane, lol.
We’re going up to my cabin in New Hampshire in a couple of weeks. If you’re interested in roughing it for a weekend.
‘We’ being Lu, Oli, and a few others. In case that matters.
A couple of weeks would put us just into November. Then would come December. Then Christmas…
The thought settles like a brick in my stomach.
It wasn’t just the question of where to go next that I needed to answer. I had to figure out the David of it all. Even now, almost a year out, the thought of sitting face to face with him sets me spiraling.
When David insisted we take the year apart, I initially turned him down. If Ms. Lily and Mr. Tae were pieces that simply fit, David and I were the opposite. But like kids determined to finish a puzzle, we shoved the pieces together until they broke.
So what was left?
I wasn’t sure then, and I certainly wasn’t sure now. However, a few friends sat me down and pointed out my history of ‘cutting-and-running,’ insisting I owed David—someone who was just trying to love me—another chance atmaking us work. What they didn’t say, but heavily implied, was that they had chosen their side. I could either take his generous offer of a year to gather myself and come back or find myself mostly friendless and alone.
With friends like those . . .
The unknowns fill my mind like a goddamn swarm of cicadas. Not buzzing. Screaming.
It’s not until I find myself standing above the Charles, the sound of the train and traffic, and pedestrians breaking through the cacophony, that I realize how far I’d walked past my intended stop.
You should see it at sunset.That’s what Cillian had said about this place. He wasn’t wrong.
Above me, a watercolor sky of magenta and gold burns bright, gilding the river and the glass facades of modern buildings. Along the water, a palette of autumn shades coat the trees.
I drink it in, letting the beauty chase away everything else until I feel...grounded.
