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The Cove looms ahead, massive and imposing under the gray clouds. I park
next to Misha’s truck and climb out of my Jeep, making my way to the
entrance.
Now I know why he stopped writing three months ago.
I should never have let it go as long as I did. It was completely selfish to
sit there and wait for him to come around and write me back—assuming his
issue was small and insignificant—and that protecting the status quo of our
relationship was more important.
Of course he wouldn’t have stopped writing for anything trivial. He’d
been committed to me for seven years. Why did I think he’d be so cavalier
about dropping me all of a sudden?
And now I know why he’s been hiding out here, away from his dad, too.
It all makes sense.
Almost.
Walking into the park, I feel the cool breeze from the downpour
yesterday brush my arms. The air is thick and weighted, and the clouds