I lost sight of her. She was gone…
Still, I had followed the beach for what felt like miles, until I found myself back at our hotel. I had felt a flutter of hope as I took the elevator up to our floor, but when I finally reached our hotel room, I found it empty.
Beck wasn’t there, but she had left everything else behind: the pile of clothes that I had stripped off her the night before, the empty aluminum can of Summer Ale, the toothbrush and tube of cherry chapstick on the bathroom sink, the price tag that she had ripped off of the brand new white linen dress that she had bought just for me…
I had retraced her steps around the room, following the trail of breadcrumbs she had left. I had waited for her to come back…
When I watched the sunrise the following morning, I had finally realized that she wasn’t coming back.
I didn’t want to leave the Hamptons without her, but part of me knew that she was already gone. Hell, she had probably already found her way back to Hartford. Beck was resourceful; she didn’t need me… she could find her own way.
I had made the three-hour drive back home in complete silence. The whole time, I was trying to figure out what I could say to Beck once I got back to our apartment. It had never even crossed my mind that she might not be there when I got back.
Now, I pondered that possibility for the first time as I walked through our apartment.
Her bedroom door was ajar and when I raised my fist to knock, it swung open. My heart immediately sank.
All of her things were gone. The room was completely empty, and any trace of Beck was gone. All that remained was the Ikea bed and dresser that I had bought.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Just to be sure, I stepped across the room towards the dresser. I pulled open the drawers one by one. Empty.
Then I noticed a faded, wrinkled twenty-dollar bill resting on top of the dresser.
I stared at it for a few seconds, trying to understand.
Then I remembered. When I had met Beck for the first time at Vaughan’s, she had refused to let me pay for her drinks. She had shoved a crumpled up twenty dollar bill towards the bartender, then she had huffed off.
I had pocketed the bill myself and paid for the drinks. Later on, after we got back to the apartment, I had left the bill onto this very spot on top of the dresser.
She’s so damn stubborn… I wanted to chuckle, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Instead, I dropped down onto the edge of her bed and fell onto my back. I glared up at the ceiling as my head spun around and around in circles, trying to make sense of everything.
There were so many things that I couldn’t figure out: What had happened at the Maison Verte Gala? Why did Beck decide to leave like this? How did she get back to Hartford and move out all of her belongings in less than twenty-four hours? Where did she go?
I tried to search my brain for answers, but I just kept drawing the same blank, over and over and over again.
There was only one thing I knew for sure:
Beck is gone.
***
“How the hell is this so soft?!” Josh asked in awe, running his hand over the lapel of a brown blazer.
I glanced at the garment and grinned affectionately, remembering the last time -- actually, the only time -- that I had worn it.
“It’s vicuna wool,” I explained.
“Sounds expensive.”
“Eh,” I shrugged my shoulders. “Let’s add that one to the ‘donate’ pile.”
“Seriously?!” Josh blinked in disbelief, flicking his eyes between me and the blazer. “You don’t want to keep it?!”
“I’m sure there’s someone out there who needs it more than me.”
Josh shrugged, then he lifted the blazer by its hanger and added it to massive mountain of clothes that made up the ‘donate’ pile.
The Hartford Fire Department was hosting a month-long clothing drive, and Firehouse 56 was one of the designated drop-off points for donations. I had been meaning to clean out my closet and purge some of my old unworn clothes for a while anyways, but seeing the influx of donations that came into the firehouse every day had finally lit a fire under my ass.
Once I started pulling garments out of my closet, I couldn’t stop myself. I think Josh was starting to regret offering to help out…
“What about this?” he asked, lifting a suit from the rack.
Before I could offer a verdict, I was interrupted by the chime of the doorbell ringing from the front of the apartment.
DING-DONG
I froze. My heart slammed against my ribcage and my mind rushed straight to Beck.
It had been nearly a week since she left, but I still hadn’t accepted that she was really gone for good. I still felt my heart race every time the phone rang or I got a knock on the door.
But every time, it wasn’t Beck.
“Are you gonna see who is at the door, or what?” Josh snapped me out of my thoughts.
“That’s a good idea,” I nodded stupidly.
My heart thumped through my chest as I navigated the piles of clothes that were strewn over my bedroom floor and made my way through the apartment. I reached the front door and gripped the handle, bracing myself for disappointment. Then I turned it slowly...
The door swung open and I found myself face to face with the biggest bouquet of flowers that I had ever seen. I leaned forward over the threshold to get a better look, when suddenly a face popped up like a jack-in-the-box.
“SURPRISE!”
“Brie?!”
“I came to apologize,” she huffed in a strained voice, blowing a stray petal away from her face. “These are ‘I’m Sorry’ flowers!”
“I don’t want your flowers.”
“Actually, they’re for Beck!”
“Then you came to the wrong place. Beck doesn’t live here anymore.”
I started to close the door, but she kicked out her foot to stop me.
“What do you mean Beck doesn’t live here anymore? Did she move out? Where did she go?”
“I don’t know.”
“But… why?”
“Maybe I should be asking you that question,” I snapped. “What did you to Beck at the Maison Verte Gala? It must have been something bad about me, right? Bad enough that she would never want to speak to me again.”
Brie blinked at silently me through the bouquet. Then, in a strained voice, she stammered:
“Please, just let me explain--”
“Don’t bother. I have nothing to say to you, Brie,” I said firmly. I tried to close the door again, but she stopped me. The door swung back open and I sighed, glaring down at her wearily.
“I know that you have every reason to hate me right now,” she said slowly, “I was drunk and angry and I said some horrible things at the gala--”
“Just stop, ok?” I held up my hand. “Whatever you told Beck at the gala, it was probably the truth. You were right. I thought I had things figured out, but I’m just the same selfish asshole that I’ve always been. I don’t deserve Beck. Anyone at the gala could have told her that.”
“Duke--”
“I lost Beck all on my own,” I shook my head. “You were just the messenger.”
I gripped the edge of the door, and I thought about trying to swing it shut again. Then I stopped.
“You were wrong about one thing, though,” I told Brie. “I did care about her. I cared about her more than I’ve ever cared about anyone. She made me want to be better. She made me want to be the man that she deserved.”
“I know you cared,” Brie said, adjusting the giant flower arrangement around in her arms. “That’s what made me so jealous.”
“Jealous? You?” My eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Don’t feel too flattered,” she rolled her eyes. “I never had those kinds of feelings for you. I never saw us as anything more than friends who liked to have fun.”
She let out a deep breath, and she pointed her eyes away from me.
“But when Beck came along, that changed. You changed,” she said. “A tiny part of me felt hurt that you had never changed for me.”
“Brie…”
“I know, I know,” she sighed quickly, glancing back up at me. “I know treated you like a bad habit. You don’t need to remind me.”
My glare softened and I actually chuckled.
“But that’s the funny thing about bad habits,” she said. “Usually they don’t quit you. I’ve never known a pack of cigarettes to sprout legs in the middle of the night and run away…”
“Fair point,” I agreed, and Brie smiled.
“You’re a good guy, Duke,” she said, swallowing heavily and pressing her chin down into the bouquet. “I mean that. Beck would be lucky to have you.”
“If only that had been the sentiment you shared with her at the gala,” I quipped grimly, letting out a heavy sigh.
“I know. That’s why I brought these flowers.”
“I wish I could help,” I shrugged, “But she didn’t exactly leave a forwarding address.”
Brie lowered the bouquet so that she could gawk up at me.
“Wait a second… you’re not giving up, are you?” she demanded.
“Not giving up, but--”
“Duke! You can’t give up on Beck!” Brie shook her head frantically. “You need to find out where she is! She must still be in Hartford, right?”
“I’m not giving up, but I don’t know what else to do!” I stammered. “All I know is that she isn’t here, and she isn’t at work. I’ve tried checking with Fire Department Headquarters, but they can’t tell me anything.”
Brie frowned thoughtfully, then she glanced down at the bouquet. A smirk spread across her face.
“What about bribery?” she asked. “Have you tried that?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX | OLIVIA
“You look like you could use a drink,” Gia Rogers declared, studying me over the rim of her black plastic-framed glasses.
“I’m fine--”
“No, I insist,” she said firmly. “You look like you just got dumped at the rose ceremony after fantasy suite dates on The Bachelor.”
“Huh?” I didn’t understand the reference, but Gia was already halfway across the kitchen.
Over the span of the last few days, Gia Rogers and I had gone from being cubicle-mates at the Fire Department, to being roommates in her one-bedroom apartment in downtown Hartford.
After the disastrous trip to the Hamptons, I knew that things could never go back to being normal. There was no such thing as ‘normal’ between Duke and I anymore, and there was definitely no going back from everything that we had shared together.
I knew that going back to that apartment wasn’t an option… but I also knew that I had nowhere else to turn. I didn’t want to go back to Rhode Island, but I didn’t want to run away again, either. I liked my new life in Hartford. I liked the people I worked with, and I liked my job.
I had liked Duke Williams, too, but I was trying not to think about that part.
Getting back to Hartford had been no small feat, especially since Duke had been the one with the car. In lieu of my own set of wheels, I had taken the Hamptons Jitney to Manhattan, then I had walked to Penn Station and booked an Amtrak train back to Hartford.
When I finally got back into town, I had been in desperate need of three things: a new place to stay, a shoulder to cry on, and lots of alcohol. Gia Rogers had provided all three.
Speaking of alcohol...
“What are we drinking tonight?” Gia asked as she cracked open the door of her refrigerator.
The inside of the fridge looked like the wine aisle at a grocery store. The shelves were stocked from front to back and side to side with bottles of white wine.
“I’m in a chardonnay mood, myself!” Gia said after surveying the selection.
Gia was always in a chardonnay mood. I had never met anyone in all my life that loved white wine the way that she did.
I knew that I was in no position to complain, and I knew that beggars couldn’t be choosers, but… I had reached my personal limit on chardonnay intake a few days ago.
“You got any beer in there?” I asked hopefully.
“I don’t have any beer, but…” Gia leaned forward and started rummaging around the shelves that were built onto the refrigerator door.
“I have this!” she said proudly, producing a silver can. “Technically it’s a wine spritzer,” she admitted, “But it tastes like grapefruit and it’s super yummy!”
“On second thought, I think I’ll stick with chardonnay,” I smiled stoically.
Gia grabbed a bottle from the fridge and carried it to the kitchen counter.
“So everyone’s been asking about you at work,” she told me as she peeled away the foil at the top of the bottle.
“Really?”
“They want to know when you’re going to come back to work! I think they miss having you around.”
“That, or they just miss the coffee,” I joked.
“Actually, Perkins started to make the morning coffee runs.”
“What?!” I blinked up at Gia in disbelief, and she nodded enthusiastically.
“Yeah! He thought your cooler idea was genius, so he’s been making Starbucks runs every morning!”
“I don’t believe that,” I shook my head. “No way! Perkins?!”
“Well you can see for yourself, if you come back to work!” Gia smiled. She shoved a corkscrew into the neck of the bottle and started twisting it around.
“I don’t know,” I sighed heavily, staring down at my hands. “I’m still not sure if I can go back.”
After getting back from the Hamptons, I had wanted to take a few days off of work to clear my head and figure out my next move. When I had talked to Perkins about it, he had been more than understanding. In fact, he was surprised that I hadn’t asked for time off sooner, considering everything that had happened with Scott…
I had spent my days off trying to process everything. Since there was nothing I could do about my feelings for Duke, I forced myself to focus on the problems that I could solve: finding a new apartment, deciding whether I wanted to stay in Hartford or move on, looking for a new job…
Those were all things that I had considered a lot over the last few days. I did want to stay in Hartford, but I knew that would mean constantly running into Duke.
“I got a job offer in New Haven,” I admitted sheepishly.
“What?!” Gia froze, cork partially dislodged from the wine bottle. “Have been applying for new jobs?”
“I sent out some feelers,” I shrugged, trying to downplay it. Now I wished I hadn’t said anything.
“Olivia, I had no idea you were that serious about leaving!”
“Nothing is set in stone,” I assured her. “I just figured that it wouldn’t hurt anything to weigh all of my options.”
“A job offer is more than just ‘weighing your options,’” Gia sighed. She gripped the bottle of fine and finished popping the cork. “It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind about leaving.”
She shook her head sadly as she poured the wine into a pair of wine glasses, then she slid one of them across the counter towards me.
“I can’t stay here,” I said, taking the glass. “I know what it’s like to have a bad reputation at work. That’s what I was trying to get away from when I came here--”
“Who said anything about a bad reputation?”
“Come on, Gia. Bar fights at Rusty’s? Getting another EMT fired?”
“Nobody is judging you for what Scott Fuller did--”
“Fine,” I shrugged. “Maybe they won’t hold that against me, but there are plenty of other things that they can’t judge me for--”
“So that’s what this is really about, huh? Mr. March?” Gia glanced up at me pointedly.
When I told Gia the truth about my relationship with Duke, she had initially been starstruck. In her eyes, Duke -
- and all the other firemen featured in the Firehouse 56 calendar -- were celebrities. Based on the way she squealed and jumped up and down, you’d think that I had just gotten back from a trip to the Hamptons with Ryan Gosling.
When I told her about what had happened at the gala, the stars in Gia’s eyes fade a little bit, but she was still adamantly ‘Team March.’
“I just wish you’d give him a chance to explain his side of things,” she sighed now, cradling her glass of wine under her chin. “You owe him that much, don’t you think?”
“I don’t owe Duke anything. What is there to explain?” I shrugged. “I was wrong about him. It’s as simple as that.”
“Puh-lease! It’s so obvious that Whatever-Her-Name-Is was just jealous! She didn’t want you to have Duke all to yourself, so she resorted to sabotage!”
Gia paused to take a long sip of wine, then continued: “I can’t believe you’d trust some bimbo at a party over your own boyfriend--”
“He was never my boyfriend!” I corrected her. “And Brie wasn’t just ‘some bimbo.’ They had history--”
“So what? Everyone has history!” Gia insisted. “You of all people should know that, Little Miss ‘Come-To-Town-On-A-Greyhound-Bus’--”
“Yeah, well Duke’s history is a little more recent,” I said, glaring down at my wine glass. “Maybe Brie was trying to sabotage us, but she was still right. Duke Williams isn’t the kind of guy who settles for one woman. Especially not for someone like me…”
“Oh God,” Gia grunted. “Do I need to give you a pep talk now, too? You’re beautiful, you’re sassy--”
“I don’t need a pep talk,” I cut her off. “I know what I have to offer. But I also know that what I’m not offering what Duke is looking for.”
“Ok, so what is Duke looking for?” Gia wanted to know. “Tell me: if you’re so sure that it isn’t you, then what does he want?!”
“Who knows?” I shrugged. “Probably someone like Brie.”
I pictured Brie will her platinum blonde hair and her slinky pink dress and her stiletto heels. I was nothing like her; we weren’t just ‘different,’ we were like two completely separate species...
“If he wanted Brie, he would have gone to the gala with her,” Gia pointed out.
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