Page 148 of Keeping Score

What the hell. It was modestly priced. A ten-minute drive from my parents. There wasn’t anything particularly offensive screaming out at me. Might as well.

“Yes.” I lied. “It’s perfect. Exactly what I was looking for.”

And then, to ensure I didn’t back out of my plan to figure out my life away from the Brynns, I bought the place outright.

The realtor was thrilled. Abbey was thrilled.

I, however, felt like I’d signed my own death certificate. But I figured I’d probably power through that feeling eventually. Hopefully.

We drove back to the airport in relative silence, Michigan passing by in a blur around me.

Shouldn’t I feel something? Nostalgia? Excitement for a new journey? Gratitude to be able to buy a condo for myself so close to my family?

But all I felt was sickening dread.

“You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?” Abbey asked, more matter-of-factly than any real type of question.

“I’m thinking about a lot of things.”

“A lot of things all relating back to her.”

She wasn’t wrong. But then, Abbey had always known me pretty well.

And while I appreciated all the help she’d given me today—driving me around our old neighborhood, picking me from the airport, coming to all of the apartment showings with me…I had to set her straight on something.

Maybe she wasn’t thinking it at all, but either way, it needed to be said.

“Abbey,” I said carefully. “I want you to know that even though I’m coming back home… you and I, we’re not going to pick up where we left off.”

“I sort of figured.” She said. “I saw the way you looked at your ex. I’ve known you a long time… and well, I’ve never seen you look at anyone like that. Not even me. That sort of thing is hard to get over.”

I sucked in a breath. It was harder than she knew.

“Yeah, well. I need to get over it. I think we both need to work on moving forward instead of settling for what’s comfortable. Don’t you think?”

She looked up hesitantly. “I do love you. I always will. You know that.”

I heard the pause in her voice. Not a declaration of love, but a way to brace me for whatever was about to come next.

“But?” I asked.

But, I think you’re right. I don’t think we were ever in love. I mean, not in any real sense of the word.” Her face fell. “Not that what we had wasn’t real for how young we were—”

“No, no, no. Abbey.” I stopped her, a wave of relief washing over me. “You don’t have to explain. I feel the same exact way.”

“You do?” she said, daring to meet my eyes, relief of her own washing over her.

“Yeah. I do.” I said, utterly grateful that I didn’t have to be responsible for breaking her heart.

“So, it’s true, then?” she asked, not hurt or upset. Just curious. “You didn’t love me the way you loved her—Maggie. Did you?”

I exhaled, pressing my eyes shut.

“I’ve never loved anyone the way I loved Maggie.” I admitted. “And I probably never will.”

“Then you shouldn’t let her go.” Abbey said, and when I opened my eyes, I found nothing but sincerity there.

“I didn’t let her go,” I said. “She chose to leave.”