It Starts with Us (It Ends with Us #2)(3)

Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself.

I stare at my phone, wondering what I should say to Atlas. I told him I would text him after I opened the store, but customers were waiting before I even unlocked the door. And now that Ryle has texted, I’ve gone and remembered Ryle exists in this scenario, too, which makes me hesitant to text Atlas at all.

The front door opens, and my employee Lucy finally walks in. She always seems so put-together, even when I can tell she’s in a bad mood.

“Good morning, Lucy.”

She flicks hair out of her eyes and sets her purse on the counter with a sigh. “Is it?”

Lucy isn’t at her friendliest in the morning. It’s why my other employee Serena or I usually work the register until at least eleven, while Lucy puts arrangements together in the back. She’s much better with customers after a cup or five of coffee.

“I just found out our place cards never arrived because they were discontinued, and it’s too late to order more. The wedding is in less than a month.”

So much has gone wrong leading up to this wedding, I have half a mind to tell her not to go through with it. But I’m not superstitious. Hopefully she isn’t, either.

“Homemade place cards are in style,” I offer.

Lucy rolls her eyes. “I hate crafting,” she mutters. “I don’t even want a wedding now. It feels like we’ve been planning it for longer than we even dated.” That’s accurate. “Maybe we’ll just call it off and go to Vegas. You eloped, right? Do you regret it?”

I don’t know which part of all that to address first. “How can you hate crafting? You work at a flower shop. And I’m divorced; of course I regret eloping.” I hand her a small stack of orders I haven’t gotten to yet. “But it was fun,” I admit.

Lucy goes to the back and starts on the rest of the orders, and I go back to thinking about Atlas. And Ryle. And Armageddon, which is what the two of them in my brain at the same time feels like.

I have no idea how this is expected to work. When Atlas and I ran into each other, it was as if everything else faded away, including Ryle. But now Ryle is beginning to seep back into my thoughts. Not in the way thoughts of Ryle used to occupy my mind, but more in a way that feels like a roadblock. My love life has finally been on a straight path with no bumps or curves, basically because it’s been nonexistent for well over a year and a half, but now it feels like there’s nothing but rough terrain and obstacles and cliffs ahead.

Is it worth it? Of course Atlas is worth it.

But are we worth it? Is us potentially becoming a thing worth the stress it would inevitably bring to all the other areas of my life?

I haven’t felt this conflicted in so long. Part of me wants to call Allysa and tell her about seeing Atlas, but I can’t. She knows how Ryle still feels about me. She knows how he’d feel if I brought Atlas into the picture.

I can’t talk to my mother because she’s my mother. As close as we’ve become lately, I’d still never freely discuss my dating life with her.

There’s really only one woman I feel comfortable talking to about Atlas.

“Lucy?”

She appears from the back, pulling an earbud out of her ear. “Did you need me?”

“Can you cover me for a while? I need to go run an errand. I’ll be back in an hour.”

She makes her way behind the counter, and I grab my purse. I don’t get a lot of alone time now that I have Emerson, so I occasionally steal an hour here and there during the workweek when I have someone to back up my absence at the shop.

Sometimes I like to sit in my thoughts, and it’s impossible to do that in the presence of a child because even when she’s asleep I’m in mom mode. And with the constant flow of traffic at work, it’s rare that I can find a stretch of peace without being interrupted.

I’ve found that being alone in my car with my music on, and occasionally a slice of dessert from the Cheesecake Factory, is sometimes all it takes to sort through the knots in my brain.

Once I’m parked with a clear view of Boston Harbor, I lean my seat back and grab the notepad and pen I brought with me. I don’t know if this will help as much as dessert sometimes does, but I need to release my thoughts in the same way I’ve done in the past. This method has helped before when I need things to fall neatly into place. Although this time, I’m just hoping it helps things not to fall completely apart.

Dear Ellen,

Guess who’s back?

Me.

And Atlas.

Both of us.

I ran into him on my way to meet Ryle with Emmy this morning. It was so good to see him. But as reaffirming as it was to see him and to know where we both stand at this point in our lives, it ended a bit awkwardly. He was having a minor emergency with his restaurant and was in a hurry; I was late opening the store. We parted on the promise that I would text him.

I want to text him. I do. Especially because seeing him reminded me of how much I miss the feeling I get when I’m around him.

I didn’t realize how lonely I’d been feeling until those few minutes with him this morning. But since Ryle and I divorced… oh, wait.

Wow. I haven’t told you about the divorce.

It’s been way too long since I’ve written to you. Let me back up.

I decided my separation from Ryle should be permanent after giving birth to Emmy. I asked him for a divorce right after she was born. I wasn’t attempting to be cruel in my timing, I just didn’t know which choice I was going to make until I held her in my arms and knew with every fiber of my being that I would do whatever it took to break the cycle of abuse.