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“Can we please just talk about this when I get home?” I ask, reaching for her as she pulls away.
“I won’t be there, Luke.”
“What?” I ask.
“I’m moving out. This is over.”
“Stop being so rash. This is ridiculous,” I say.
“Is it? You’re leaving anyway, right? What difference does it make? Why not just tear this Band-Aid off now before you’re not just breaking my heart?” As she touches her stomach, she adds, “And his too.”
I stand numbly as she climbs into her car and slams the door. Even as she pulls away and speeds out of the parking lot, I can’t move. I feel paralyzed. I feel numb.
And I realize…this is what heartbreak feels like.
Thirty-Five
Sadie
It doesn’t take me long to pack up my things. I didn’t bring much, but as I glance around the house with my bags at my feet, I realize how much I accumulated. Memories. Lessons. Love.
These are the things I wish I could leave behind, but they’re coming with me whether I like it or not.
While I’m packing, my anger subsides and is replaced with grief. I’m not angry at Lucas for lying to the dean and protecting his career. It was never about that. It was about always putting his career first, and that isn’t his fault—it’s mine.
Because I knew. He did try to warn me. He made it clear from the start that he would never have a wife or family because he would always put his work first. I was just the fool who thought I could change him. I thought I could be the exception.
As it turns out, neither of us have changed at all—he’s still Dr. Goode and I’m still the fool who finds love in all the wrong places. Idiotic Miss Green.
When the door flies open, I scream and turn to find Lucas frantically rushing in. He’s disheveled and worked up, his eyes wide with shock as he marches toward me with his hands up in surrender.
“Sadie, please,” he begs, his gaze flashing downward toward the bags at my feet. “Don’t be so impulsive. We can work this out.”
“How, Luke? You’re moving to England and I’m having a baby. We both have bigger priorities than each other.”
“That’s not true,” he argues.
“Yes, it is,” I reply. “It was a fling, Luke.”
“No, it wasn’t,” he barks as if I’ve just offended him. Stepping toward me, he takes my hands and stares into my eyes. I’ve never seen him look so scared and broken. He’s always Mr. Composed and Confident.
And for a moment, I consider listening. I could just nod my head and agree that we could work it out even though I know that we won’t. I could let him put his arms around me and kiss me and it would feel so, so good, but for how long? Until May, when I’m laboring alone, and he’s off in another country living his dreams?
I pull my hands away and take a step back. My eyes are raw with tears as I stare at him.
“I asked you to help me get my life together. To help me make better decisions, and you did exactly what you were supposed to.”
His shoulders melt downward, the look on his face despondent and grief-stricken. Because he knows I’m right.
This is the right decision, and for once, I’m the one making it.
“I have to go,” I whisper.
“Where?” he asks. “Let me at least get you a place. I’ll find you somewhere to rent, and I’ll pay.”
I shake my head. “I need to do this on my own.”
Picking up my bag, I sling it over my shoulder and walk toward the door. I feel Lucas’s eyes on me the entire way, but I fight the urge to turn around. I’m afraid if I look back, I’ll never leave.
