Page 126 of Mark my Words

It was a one-way ticket to Kalamazoo, Michigan, connecting through Chicago for the next morning. “Um, why am I going to Michigan? Shouldn’t I be going straight to Chicago?”

“It’s grand gesture time, Kristine. Are you ready for this? Because if you’re not, that’s fine, but that also means you need to let him go, and I don’t think you’re ready to do that either.”

I looked down at the card in my hands, not recognizing the name or address printed in Evan’s neat handwriting but unwilling to risk losing this chance.

“What do I need to know?”

“Oh, no.” Chase shook her head, standing up and shouldering her bag. “I’ve done my part. The rest is on you. If you want him as much as I think you do, make it right.”

I tried to return to work for twenty minutes after Chase left, but she was right. I did need to make this right. She’d given me the pep talk and the plane ticket, and I had to figure out how to clean up my mess.

“Fuck,” I sighed as I pulled up my contacts list. In my fit of despair, I’d symbolically deleted his contact information. Not that he’d talk to me if I called.

Sam’s Facebook page provided the information I needed. Isobel had often teased Chase about her Internet stalking skills, but I’d learned a few things from her, easily finding a few of Sam’s sisters tagged in a photo from a family birthday a few weeks ago. Sam looked tired, his smile the fake one he reserved for interacting with people he wasn’t that comfortable with.

I knew he loved his family, so it couldn’t be them. Was he as miserable as I was? With his new job, the new city, and new friends, I’d expected that he’d be too busy to think about how epically things had imploded between us.

The first two of his sisters had their profiles locked down tight, only having a profile picture and information on where they lived and their spouse. The third one was more promising. She had an online boutique with a phone number listed.

My pulse pounded as I input the number, waiting for it to connect. I hated calling people instead of texting or emailing, but I was desperate.

“Hello. Thanks for calling Ever After Boutique, Claire speaking. How can I help you?”

Fuck. I was supposed to talk now.

“Hi, uh. I’m looking for help with something. You’re the Claire Baxter related to Sam Langley, right?”

Rustling noises came through the phone, and when she returned, her voice was lower, and the background noise faded away.

“Who is this?”

“You don’t know me...”

“Clearly, but I’m interested, nonetheless. How do you know Sam?” she laughed. “Are you the reason he’s being such a grump lately?”

Pausing, I decided transparency was the way to go.

“My name is Kristine. I worked with Sam in Boston...” I took a deep breath and told her why I was really calling. “I’m in love with him. I need your help.”

The next call I needed to make wasn’t so easy.

“What do you want, Kristine?” Kelly’s tone was abrupt. It was clear she wouldn’t take my side in this break-up. I knew she’d befriended Sam after he’d moved to Chicago, but I didn’t realize how close they were.

“I need help.”

“Yeah, you do. But psychiatric services aren’t part of my friendship package.”

“I’m sorry.”

She scoffed, a dry chuckle carrying through the line. “I’m not the one who deserves your apology.”

“I know. I screwed up. Leaving like I did...”

“Was fucked up,” she filled in when I paused.

“It was. I was mean to you too. I didn’t mean to accuse you of fucking him.”

Her laughter that time was a little more relaxed. “Well, he is cute, but I don’t make it a habit of sleeping with other people’s boyfriends.”

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