I did the right thing.
I repeat those words to myself over and over again. We’re both too volatile; we both need different things right now. I can think of a hu his face in my hairto10ndred reasons we’ll never work.
I did the right thing.
I can’t be with a man who cares so little for my feelings, who tells me he needs me one minute and casts me aside the next. I care too deeply, too strongly, to trust my emotions to someone so changeable.
I did the right thing.
I know that I’m not completely without blame. I’ve fucked up enough myself over the course of this relationship. But that’s just another reason why we’re better off apart.
I did the right thing.
But no matter how many times I think it, those words do nothing to ease the ache in my heart.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Two days later, I get another delivery at work. It’s calla lilies again—amethyst this time. I almost throw them away without reading the accompanying message. But curiosity or madness overtakes me, and I find myself reaching for the card. It’s not what I’m anticipating at all.
Truth or dare? One for each of us.
I’ll take Truth: The truth is, I’m an ass.
You get Dare: I dare you to come and find me.
I stare at the words for a full minute. Is he serious? He expects me to keep playing? He wants me to go looking for him? After everything?
But each time I reread the message, I feel myself weakening. Who am I kidding? I miss him. I want him. I’m still pissed, but that doesn’t mean I love him any less.
No—I need to be strong. I throw the card into the garbage and force myself to get back to work. Wentworth Cunninghamt" aid=" certainly
Forget about him. You need to move on.
Try as I might, though, my attention keeps drifting back to that little piece of cardstock. After ten frustrating minutes, I finally sigh and reach down to grab the card out of the trash can. That’s when I notice the words on the back.
If you refuse to play, you forfeit.
I can’t help it; those words bring a smile to my face. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I flip the card over and read the original message again.
I dare you to come and find me.
What the heck does that mean? Where is he? I turn the card over again, looking for some clue, but I come up empty. I assumed he went back to New York after I sent him away. Does he want me to hop on a plane and fly up to the city? He knows I can’t afford that.
I look up at the flowers. They’re exactly like the ones he brought me on our first date. Maybe that’s the clue. Maybe he’s at Ventine’s.
It’s the only idea I have, so I grab my purse and jacket. I poke my head into my dad’s office on my way out.
“I’m leaving a little early today,” I tell him. “Is that okay?”
“Of course, of course.” He’s been treading very lightly around me these past few days. Between the accident and that scene with Calder, I think he believes I’m on the verge of some huge mental breakdown.
I wave goodbye, but he speaks as I turn away.
“I only want what’s best for you, you know,” he says. “I want you to be happy.”
It’s a strange thing for him to say out of the blue, but I smile.
“I know, Dad. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” he calls after me.
A minute later, I’m in my car, heading toward the place where Calder and I took our first steps toward a real relationship. The place where I sat next to him over one of Martin’s lavish meals and prayed the fairy tale would never end.
I don’t know what to expect now. I don’t know what I want to happen when I see him. I should refuse to play this little game. It would be the smart thing to do. The safe thing.
But when have I ever listened to the rational part of my brain?
Driving with a cast on one arm is a bit of an adventure, but I make it across town in record time. I look for Calder’s car as I pull into the parking lot at Ventine’s, but I can’t see much past the valet’s stand. I toss my keys at the startled attendant and run inside.
Calder isn’t in the lobby, and I don’t see him at the bar or any of the tables, either. I walk up to the maître d’.
“I’m supposed to be meeting Calder Cunningham here,” I say.
The man’s face lights up. “Ah, yes. Mr. Cunningham left something for you.”
Left something? He’s not here?
The maître d’ grabs something from behind his stand and passes it over to me. It’s a purple calla lily with another note wrapped around the stem.
I step back outside and uncurl the little piece of paper. Once more, I’m greeted by Calder’s scrawl.
On the right track, but you aren’t there yet!
Truth: On our first date, I told you I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to be sitting next to you. It’s still true. I’m the luckiest man in the world to have spent even that much time with you.
Dare: I dare you to believe me when I say I’m sorry. Sorry for leading you on. Sorry for pushing you away. Sorry for not trusting you enough to share my struggles with you.
If you choose to believe, I dare you to keep and againit10 looking for me.
My stomach flip-flops. He shouldn’t say things like this. He shouldn’t give me hope. I can’t handle another heartbreak.
And if he’s not here, where is he?
I reread the note. Someone really needs to teach Calder to write better clues. This doesn’t tell me anything.
Except that my initial instinct was right. He knew I’d show up here at Ventine’s. At least I’m on the right track.
Our second date was at the park, so I head there next. I don’t notice anything unusual in the parking lot, but if he’s here, I know where he’ll be.
I follow the path through the trees down to the lake. The dilapidated rowboat is still where we left it. I bend and use my good arm to lift the side, sneaking a peek beneath the weathered hull. There’s another calla lily and another note.
Getting closer. Maybe home is where the heart is?
Truth: On our second date we hid under a boat, and that’s when I learned that in spite of all my protests, I would never have the strength of will to keep from touching you. When I lie alone at night, my body aches for yours. I wish I could tell you how many sleepless nights I’ve spent yearning for your touch.
Dare: I dare you to forgive me. I dare you to look past my stupidity and selfishness and see the man who needs you.
I dare you to continue the game.
My hands shake as I fold up the note. I try to hold on to my anger, to remind myself of why Calder and I shouldn’t be together, but it’s a losing battle. The rational part of my brain is telling me to stop right now, to turn around and drive home before I get in over my head again, but nothing will stop me from continuing this game.