Good for You: A Novel (35)

“You didn’t, though.” She knew he’d worked for a large chain bank before he left.

“Nope. No interest whatsoever. But as long as I’d worked in finance in some capacity, he’d been able to maintain the fantasy that I was on the verge of changing my mind, not to mention getting married and having a gaggle of kids to inherit ye olde family business. Now that I’ve officially dropped out, it’s over. My parents are devastated, and I’m tired of hearing about it.”

“That’s not fair of them.” They’d started to hike again, and sand flew behind them as their feet sank into the hill. “What do you want to do, anyway?”

“I’m not sure, but I’ll figure it out. What I do know is that I’m sick of living the way I’m supposed to.”

“I get it,” she said, though as someone who’d always wanted nothing more than to simply fit in, a small part of her didn’t fully understand him. Then again, though Cindy had plenty of opinions about Aly’s career path, she’d never pushed her to do anything else. When Aly had told her she’d received a partial scholarship to college, Cindy had simply said, “I hope that means you’ll be able to help take care of me when I’m old.”

“Almost there,” said Wyatt. His breath sounded as shallow as hers felt. “Just a little further.”

Aly wiped her brow on the back of her arm; all of the moisture in her body seemed to be escaping through her skin, and her throat was dry and scratchy. “I need water,” she told him.

“Got it,” he said, stopping in his tracks. He twisted to pull his backpack from his back, but as he did, his feet began to slip. “Crap,” he said, but it was too late—he’d already collided into Aly, knocking her over. The next thing she knew, his legs were around her waist, and they were sliding down the dune.

“Ahhhh!” she yelped as sand sprayed into their faces.

“Hold on,” he said, digging his heels into the hill to stop them. But it was too sudden, and before she knew it, he’d rolled right on top of her.

“Are you okay?” he said, looking down at her. He didn’t pry himself off of her, though, and she didn’t try to wiggle out from under him. He was heavy, but it was a good kind of heavy, like a weighted blanket. Aly could feel his heart beating staccato against her chest; his pupils were enormous. She didn’t respond. How could she when she wasn’t sure she was still breathing?

Then he abruptly pulled back and stood. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Aly felt more naked than the day she’d walked in on him in the bathroom. What was he sorry for? Looking at her like that? Not kissing her when she knew—she just knew—he’d wanted to?

No, she realized at once. He was sorry because he saw her as someone who was too broken to be with. Why, oh why had she told him about the Incident, about her grief? Why had she shown her vulnerable side to him, when he so obviously could only handle steely resolve?

But obviously he’d been right about her. Because how else had she ended up here, exactly where she didn’t want to be, with the person she least needed to get tangled up with?

She was broken.

And now it was time to glue herself back together and get on with her life.

“I’m just . . . confused,” he said, looking up without meeting her eyes. “You’re Luke’s sister. He wanted us to be friends. Not . . . you know. That would ruin everything.”

“I get it,” she said, turning away so he couldn’t see her face. Because she would not shed a single tear in front of Wyatt Goldstein. Not today. Not ever. “We should go.”

“Aly,” he said, and the confusion in his voice nearly broke her all over again.

“Let’s go,” she said. “I need to get home and pack.”

She rose, brushed the sand from her clothing, and began down the hill.

“Aly,” he called. “Wait!”

But she didn’t wait, and she didn’t look back. Because Aly had vowed years ago that she was done being hurt. She’d forgotten that promise to herself somewhere along the way, but she wouldn’t make that mistake twice.

No—she would sooner attempt to swim across Lake Michigan than give Wyatt Goldstein the opportunity to hurt her again.





EIGHTEEN


The silence on the car ride back was not the comfortable kind.

The minute they pulled into the driveway, Aly uttered a terse thank you to Wyatt, who looked like he was ready for the earth to swallow him whole, then got into her rental car and drove downtown. She didn’t have anywhere to be, and she was far too wired to get coffee or eat. So she headed to the boardwalk that spanned the river and called Harry. He’d been about to step into a meeting but said he’d call in half an hour.

Seven minutes later, he was back on the phone.

“That was fast,” said Aly, feeling at once elated to talk with him and guilty for taking up time in his workday.

“Ninety percent of meetings are completely unnecessary, and this one was no exception. I told my team to email me the details and stop wasting my time.”

“You did not.”

“As least half of that is true,” he said. “Now, I sense a disturbance in the Force. What’s going on?”

“Oh, Harry,” she said miserably, watching a seagull swoop down and steal a fry someone had dropped on the boardwalk. “You won’t even believe it. How could you, when I barely do?” And then she told him everything.