Page 1 of Changing Tides

Why the hell not?

That’s the question I ask myself as I open the Tiffany-blue suitcase on my bed and begin to cut the tags off of the pile of new vacation clothes I purchased last week.

I toss them inside, along with my favorite white bikini and pineapple-print cover-up.

Conrad and I planned this vacation for over a year. Painstakingly searching websites for the best accommodations, food, and excursions. I saved every penny earned from my part-time job of waiting tables so we could afford to splurge on anything we wanted to do or buy while in Honolulu on the island of Oahu.

Looking forward to a week of baking in the Hawaiian sun and drinking all the tropical cocktails with my favorite guy was the only thing that kept me going through finals and months of long seven-day workweeks.

Once everything is packed, I snatch the pair of airline tickets from the nightstand and sit on the end of the bed.

Two first-class round-trip tickets for Avie Carrigan and Conrad Sullivan.

Nonrefundable.

I swipe at the warm tear trickling down my cheek.

Pull it together, Avie.

I tuck the ticket with my name on it inside of my purse and tear the one with his name into tiny pieces.

Asshole.

Conrad and I had been dating for almost three years, and stupid me thought maybe he was planning to hide a ring away in his luggage to surprise me on this trip.

It was always the plan. Once I finished school, we would move to the city and begin our life together.

Instead, he took me to dinner last night and professed how much he loved me at the same time he was breaking up with me.

Dumped. The night before the trip of a lifetime.

He said we needed a breather.

I asked, “What the hell does that even mean?”

He explained that his dad’s best friend had offered him a job at his architectural firm in New York.

A job that starts next week.

He accepted the position, and he is moving this weekend.

When I asked why the news meant that we needed a breather, he said he wanted to concentrate on work and that a long-distance relationship would be too much of an emotional drain.

“Look, the job is a summer internship. I need to be focused in order to prove myself. After that, I’ll know if it’s what I want to do and where I want to be. Then, we can revisit our situation and see if we want you to move to New York or if I should move back here to Atlanta.”

What he wants to do and where he wants to be?

I stood up as calmly as I could muster, told him he could go fuck himself, picked up the glass of red wine I had been drinking,and dumped it in his lap before I made my way out of the restaurant.

When I made it home, all of his things were gone from the apartment we shared. His clothing, toiletries, laptop, and even the expensive gaming system I’d bought him for his birthday last month.

The jerk had packed up his things while I was on campus. Before bothering to tell me he was moving out.

I will not cry again.

My phone chimes from the dresser, and I stand to see the message that my Uber driver has arrived.

I sling my purse over my shoulder and grab my suitcase.

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