Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
“Auggie,” I choke out against his lips.
“Keep in touch, okay?” he murmurs into my lips, his voice breaking. “Be happy. That’s all I care about. I want you to be safe and happy.”
“I want that for you, too.”
“Bye, Charlotte McDougal.”
“Bye, Auggie Vaughn.” I wipe my eyes. “Travel safe.”
And that’s it. He slips into the waiting taxi with his carry-on. But before he closes the door, I remember the ring on my finger. I take off running toward the car, yelling his name. And luckily, he pops his head out the window, a concerned look on his face.
“Your grandma’s ring!” I call out, breathing hard. “The ring, Auggie!”
His chin wobbles. “Keep it. It’s yours now.” With that, he slides his head back into the car, and a moment later, I’m staring at the taxi’s retreating taillights.
He’s gone.
Tears spring to my eyes and roll down my cheeks as I watch the taxi turn a corner and disappear. My brain knows he’s being smart to go. This thing between us was never built to last, so it’s better to cut the cord now, cleanly, than to drag it out. That’s what my brain keeps reassuring me, anyway; but my heart isn’t buying it. In fact, my heart aches like it’s ceramic that’s been physically shattered.
With a deep sigh, I slog into the hotel, straight to a perky woman behind a desk.
“Hello there,” she says. “Checking in?”
“Yes. McDougal. Charlotte.”
“I’ve got your reservation right here, Miss. Non-smoking with a king and a view. At your request, we’ve had champagne chilling in the room for quite some time. It’s probably warm by now, so we can certainly send a new, chilled bottle—”
“No, that won’t be necessary. It’s just me in the room now. No champagne celebration to be had, as it turns out.”
The woman’s face falls. She juts her lower lip in sympathy, ever so slightly, while maintaining a generally professional demeanor. “Whatever you wish, Miss McDougal. How many keys?”
“Just the one.”
“You’re still checking out tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Do you need a late checkout?”
I pause. “Actually, you know what? On second thought, I think I’m going to head to the airport and catch a flight back home now. I’ll sleep on my flight.”
“I’m sorry, it’s too late for a refund.”
“That’s all right. I expected that.” Suddenly, the thought of going up to that hotel room alone, when I thought I’d be spending the night there with Auggie, is too much to take. If I’m going to feel lonely and heartbroken, I’d rather feel that way on a flight headed home than in an empty, lonely hotel room in New Jersey that greets me with a warm bucket of sad, celebratory champagne.
Outside in the cold night air, I order an Uber to the airport. And while I’m waiting for the car, I swipe into my emails and tap out a reply to the job offer:
I’m thrilled to accept your offer. I’ll plan to be in Dallas for training on Monday. I’ll await further instructions and details regarding my travel, but for now, please let this email serve as my official acceptance. I can’t wait to join the team. Thank you.
I stare at my reply for a long moment without pressing send. I should be thrilled to send this. Ecstatic. But the truth is I feel sick. Lost. Detached. Rejected.
I stare up the street, hoping the headlights of Auggie’s taxi will magically appear.
I check my texts, hoping he’s sent me one that says, “I’ve changed my mind! I’m coming back! Don’t go anywhere!” But, alas, no such luck.
When my Uber appears in the near distance with no word from or sign of Auggie, I take it as my sign to stop being an idiot and to start acting like a responsible, mature adult. One who knows life isn’t actually a fucking fairytale. There are tradeoffs in life. Compromises. Prices to pay. And this time, the price of my dream job is living in New York and foregoing the chance to see what might have happened with Auggie and me. What we might have become.
And who knows? After graduation, he might decide to move to New York, if I’m still there. Or I might be able to get myself reassigned to a shift based on the West Coast by then, if that’s what I want to do. Life is fluid. You never know. The only thing I know right now is that this is my dream job and I’d be felony stupid to turn it down, exactly like Auggie said.
I press send on the email, just as the Uber is stopping in front of me. I stuff my phone into my coat and head to the car with my bag and open the back door.
“Charlotte?” the driver says, as is protocol.
“Yes. Your name, please?”
“Eduardo.”
“That’s it.” I slide into the backseat. “To the airport, please. I’m starting my dream job.” It’s a weird thing to say, but I need to say it out loud to someone, and this guy happens to be here.