Nate tenses instantly. My mouth goes dry, the words feeling like whiplash. Someone calls the suit, and he takes off with a curt nod at me. I need a few seconds to gather my wits, and to steel myself.
I blink at Nate, waiting to hear what he has to say. Why didn’t he tell me all of this? Granted, I just saw him, but accordin
g to the suit, he’s known since this morning. He had all day. Unless he decided already and didn’t know how to tell me. My stomach constricts, and I taste bile at the back of my throat just as a wave of nausea hits me. I feel so silly now in my ridiculously high shoes and with the stupid flower in my hair. No one needs to dress up to have their heart broken.
“Congratulations,” I say softly, looking at my hands.
“I meant to tell you today, but I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”
“Of course.”
“I haven’t accepted the job yet, Alice.”
The key word being yet. Snapping my head up, I see a multitude of emotions warring on his face. Hope, fear, uncertainty. I know how much he wants this, and how much he worked for it. If there’s one thing I understand, it’s hard work and chasing dreams.
“But you will,” I say when I finally find my voice again. “Because it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, isn’t it? To be at the helm of the show you idolize.”
“Alice—”
“I’ll watch every single episode,” I promise. “You’ll be great.”
“Listen to me.” Desperation tinges his voice, and it makes my eyes burn. “Maybe there will be other opportunities that don’t require me to move an ocean away from you.”
I nearly choke up. “Do you honestly believe there will be other opportunities for exactly what you want?”
His silence is my answer, and I know deep down that I can’t let him give this up just to be here with me. It wouldn’t be fair. Maybe he would say no anyway, but it wouldn’t be right to ask. It would be selfish and inconsiderate. Even if he said yes, years from now he could resent me for it.
My mind scrambles with a solution, a way to make this work, but I come up blank. To be honest, the effort to not cry takes all my concentration—not enough neurons left to be smart. So I do the only thing that seems logical. Taking a step toward him, I rise on my tiptoes—even in heels, I’m shorter than him—and kiss his cheek once.
“You’ll love London,” I whisper. “And you’ll do a great show. I’ll watch every episode, and—” My voice cracks on the last word, but I’m persistent. “And I’ll think about our time together. About how much it meant to me. To us. You’ll do great, you’ll see.”
Nate hooks a forceful arm around my waist. “Alice, stop. Don’t—”
“I need to leave now, okay?” My voice is unsteady. Nate’s grip on my waist tightens. “I need you to let me go so I can do that.”
“Stay.”
“I don’t think I can,” I whisper, inhaling deeply. His scent, both earthy and fresh, fills my nostrils. When he touches my forehead with his lips, it feels like a stamp on the letter that was our love story.
“Becker,” someone calls in the distance. I use it as my chance to leave. Pulling out of his grasp is easy because he doesn’t resist anymore.
“I’ll go with you.”
“You’re the guest of honor,” I whisper. “You can’t bail. Call me tomorrow, if you want. Or don’t. It’s better if you don’t call. Easier.”
As the suit who was calling Nate’s name steps into view, I paste a plastic smile on my face, say goodbye, and then twirl around. As if through a haze, I walk toward the entrance door. My heart is pounding so hard it’s making me nauseous, and my eyes are burning.
I just need to make it out of here, that’s all.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Alice
The next morning I wake up with a stiff neck and no feeling in my legs. With a groan, I press my fingers on the aching spot at the back of my neck.
I feel like a bus ran me over. Serves me right for sleeping in an armchair with my legs curled under me. My head has probably been bobbing around searching for a pillow the entire night.
When I returned home last evening, I plopped into my favorite armchair and threw my own pity party. At some point, I fell asleep, and now I have a stiff neck to show for it. God, I’m a mess. When I regain the feeling in my legs somewhat, I climb out of the armchair, heading to the bathroom.