Tease (Cloverleigh Farms #8)(82)

My chest grew tighter as I ripped it open, smoothed out the page, and began to read.

Dear Hutton,

By now you’ve realized that I moved out while you were in D.C. I’m so sorry for doing it without telling you, but I didn’t want you to be worried or distracted during the hearing. You needed to be able to focus one hundred percent on your testimony. I didn’t want to add any additional stress.

I think this time apart is a good thing. As much as I have loved living with you and pretending to be a couple, it feels like the right time to step back from the fantasy and remember what’s real.

If you could please respect my need for a little space, I’d really appreciate it. I’ll get in touch on Saturday and we can make a plan for attending the party. Maybe on Sunday we can discuss the best way to handle the breakup where our families are concerned.

I hope you don’t think I’m upset with you—I’m not. I am upset, but only with myself for getting carried away. I forgot that it was all for show, and my feelings for you have grown beyond make-believe.

This isn’t your fault.

I’ll never forget this time we had together.

Love,

Felicity

P.S. I have been and always shall be your friend.

The postscript was written in code, and that, almost more than anything else, made my throat constrict and my heart threaten to splinter.

I had to fix this. I had to win her back.





Friday morning, I skipped my run and showed up at my sister’s house before eight a.m.

She looked surprised when she answered my knock. “You’re back already?”

“Yeah. Can I come in?”

“Of course!” She grabbed me in a hug. “Congratulations. You did so great!”

“Thanks.”

“How’d you get through it? Was it my stellar advice?”

“Your suggestions did help,” I admitted. “Thanks for the text.”

“You’re welcome.” She let me go and gave me a smug grin. “The things I said were based on the principles of acceptance and commitment therapy, by the way. I asked Natalia for a few ideas. She’s still open to talking with you.”

“I might take her up on that.” I exhaled and adjusted the cap on my head. “But first, I need your advice.”

Her jaw dropped. She put a hand by her ear. “Did I hear that right?”

“Please don’t joke. This is serious.”

She studied my face. “Okay. Want something to eat? Coffee?”

“Coffee sounds good. I didn’t sleep much.”

“I can tell. You’ve got some major circles under those eyes.”

I sat at the table. “Where are the kids?”

“They slept at Mom and Dad’s. I have early appointments this morning, so I have to be at the office in about forty-five minutes.” She brought me a mug of black coffee and sat down. “Speak.”

“Felicity moved out while I was gone. She did it without telling me.”

She nodded. “How do you feel about that?”

“At first I was angry that she just up and left without saying anything—we’ve been friends a long time, and it felt shitty.”

“That’s understandable.”

“But she left me this letter that explained why she moved out, and it fucking tore me apart inside.”

“What did she say?”

“She said she didn’t want to tell me because she didn’t want me to have additional stress while I was in D.C.”

“That was thoughtful of her.”

“She said she left because she needed to step back from the fantasy of being a couple and remember what was real. She said she got carried away and her feelings grew beyond make-believe.”

Allie nodded. “She’s scared. She ran away.”

“She said it’s not my fault and she doesn’t blame me.”

“Do you blame yourself?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” I leaned forward, elbows on the table, head in my hands. “She’s everything to me, Allie.”

“She needs to hear that.”

“She told me not to contact her. She asked me to respect her need for space.”

“What about the party?”

“She said she’ll call me tomorrow and we’ll make a plan to attend it, and then afterward figure out how to end things.” I jumped up. “But I can’t let that happen. I can’t go a day without trying to get her back.”

Allie looked surprised. “Okay.”

“That’s why I need your advice.” I started to pace. “What can I say to convince her to give me another chance? How can I prove to her that she can trust me?”

“You could start with telling her how you feel,” she suggested. “If you love her, she needs to hear it.”

“I do love her. I do. But . . .” I stopped in my tracks. “I can’t get over this fucking thing in my head telling me I’m not good enough for her.”

My sister shrugged. “Maybe you’re not.”

I stared at her. “Huh?”

“I mean, maybe the thing in your head is right. Maybe you’re not good enough for her. Maybe you’re going to fuck it up. Maybe she’ll decide you’re not worth the trouble.”