The ache in my chest won’t go away. Instead, it festers like a rotten apple. But I’m so confused. The plan was always for me to leave. She knew that. Sebastian knows that. So why are my hands shaking and my stomach rolling as though I’m about to be sick?
Todays and tomorrows.
That ache ignites until my entire chest is on fire.
“Hello?” Leo’s voice rings loudly in the empty room. “Anyone in here?”
“C—come in. She’s all done,” I reply.
Leo walks in and inspects a few stalls. “Looks good to me. She doesn’t have to do this all summer, a few weeks is sufficient for me.”
I puff my cheeks on a slow exhale. “Let’s get through the next few days and then see if you still agree.”
His brows rise in question, but I shrug.
“I don’t know anything about anything anymore. But I should go check on her.”
Leo tilts his head to the left with a frown. “Are you okay, Rowan?”
My chin trembles, and I hate it. There’s an overwhelming burst of energy coursing through my veins that I can’t contain.
When I attempt to swallow the ball of emotion that’s gagging me, it cuts and tears at my sensitive skin.
Gulping for air, I drop my chin to my chest so he can’t read what I know is flashing brighter than a neon sign in my eyes—sadness. “Yup. I’m fine. I, ah, have to go check on her though.”
He steps out of the way, and I make a hasty escape. I walk back to the house feeling more unsettled than I have in years.
“You know,”Lottie says, taking a seat next to me. “I came here with something I thought would make you over-the-moon happy, but now, after seeing this.” She waves her hand toward the kitchen. “I’m not so sure I even want to say it out loud.”
Tension creeps in and heats my skin. “What do you mean?”
“You know I’m expanding.”
“Yes.” Why is she stalling? What doesn’t she want to tell me?
“I came here to offer you a partnership, in Paris. You’d basically be doing what I do here.”
Sweat breaks out over my body. It’s literally my dream job. It’s everything I want. I’ll still help children and families, but I won’t have the emotional attachment that comes along with it.
“Row?”
“It’s…that’s…everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“Are you sure about that?” she asks gently.
I swallow hard as emotion prickles in my throat.
It is everything I want.
Or wanted, a traitorous voice says in my mind.
It’s freaking Paris, with minimal human contact and zero chance of me growing attached. So why does it suddenly feel like a death row pardon coming in too little too late?
“I just want you to be happy, Row. That’s what matters. Take your time and think about it, okay? Just make sure the decision you make isn’t one made out of fear.”
“Lottie,” her brother, Elijah, calls from the kitchen. “Come tell everyone that Beck’s lying.”
She pats my thigh. “Really think about it, okay?” she asks before walking inside. I don’t know how long I watch them, but my eyes are dry from barely blinking.
