Page 42 of Solitude

When Beck left for college without saying goodbye, it gutted me. I’ll be honest. My crush had clearly grown and snowballed into something uncontainable by then. I’d spent the summer pretending time stood still, and everything I’d been so worried about wouldn’t bother me as long as Beck was by my side. Even when he left, I tried to delude myself into believing that as long as I didn’t acknowledge it, then it would be okay.

My mom found my rejection letters three days later.

It was the first time she’d ever locked me in my room. Honestly, it was the first time I’d ever given her a reason to be so harsh. For two days, I couldn’t get out to eat or go to work. Thank god, my room has its own bathroom. Gwen’s inquiries into where the hell I had disappeared to was the only reason my mother finally let me out.

But something strange happened after that.

Lorelei stays gone like always. Even more so than before the letters, if possible. But Colson has been home for a late dinner every night. We don’t eat together. We don’t even really talk to one another besides the occasional upnod from him as I run out the door. The first time I saw him sitting at the counter with a mug of coffee and the newspaper on his tablet I’d almost tripped over the final stair. He didn’t say anything, just nodded, and I left; myfeet on autopilot as I told myself to get the heck out. I hadn’t even grabbed my bag.

Now he’s there every morning, watching wide eyed as I rush around the kitchen and hop around the entryway, and he’s there every evening with a pile of paperwork and a sandwich. It’s unnerving.

I hate how much I love it—crave it—after not having it for years though. I broke down to Cole about it. I told him it made me sick to my stomach to get a thrill at the small amount of attention my dad was giving me now. Cole told me I should never feel like I have to earn my parents’ love, and I’ve had to remind myself of that every morning when my first thought is to convince myself to reapply to colleges or quit Sugar for their sake.

Gwen was overjoyed to know I wouldn’t be leaving her after all. In fact, she was so happy she gave me a raise and a promotion. I’d laughed and pointed out we were the only two employees, so being a manager wasn’t really all that important, but she insisted.

It made sense when she hired three local teenagers to help part-time at the shop in October. Gwen’s helped me feel like an important part of helping her expand her business and train new employees. I owe her a lot for pulling me out of a slump by simply trusting me.

Sienna…

Well, I’m not sure what to say about her. She was mad. Beyond mad. She probably still is. Heck if I know. Sienna had all these plans and ideas in her head for college. She was making mood boards and planning itineraries for us.She was ready to have the freshman-in-college movie montage with the perfect soundtrack behind it.

And I stomped on that.

She isn’t answering my texts, but I’m hoping she’ll forgive me once she settles in at Harvard a bit more…

Maybe.

Life has slowed down a lot since summer.

When the Hollow and its residents realized I was still in town instead of at college with Sienna, they asked a few questions, spread a couple of rumors, but ultimately didn’t care too much. Mrs. Betty was just happy to see me every morning on my walk to work, and Matt had offered me an official part-time job helping his mom on the ranch.

I feel like I finally have a sense of purpose, and it’s all thanks to Magnolia Hollow and the people who live here.

The solitude I once felt doesn’t feel so heavy lately.

“Winnie!” Jon’s voice booms from beside me, snapping me out of my trance where I was staring at the Mayor dance around for the kids in Edith’s shop. “I think someone’s here for you.”

My brow furrows as I look at where he’s gesturing with his obnoxious, white beard, and my breath catches.

Beck?I mouth.

He standing there with a grin on his perfect face and a beanie on his head, tufts of dark hair curling around the green fabric. He’s holding two travel cups from Sugar in his hands, and he extends one my way, a silent request to come get it.

I leave my post as Santa’s helper, unbothered anduncaring as I push a kid away from me with one stiff arm. I only have eyes for one person at the moment, and I don’t know how he expects me to breathe when he’s looking at me like that.

Like he’s happy to see me.

Like he missed me.

Like he came home tome.

As soon as I get close enough for him to hear me, I ask him loudly, “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you.”

I’m standing in front of him, swallowing the lump in my throat as I squeeze my hands into fists. Hope blooms in my chest, the emotion swirling throughout my body in a way that makes me feel like I’m levitating with it. Gazing up at him, I feel like time stands still yet again.

Finally, I reply, “You found me.”

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