Page 6 of Golden Star

I say nothing.

After all, I know how crushed he was when he didn’t get the football scholarship he wanted. It was his only chance at paying his way through college, and he lost it to the quarterback in the next town over.

I just hit him where it hurts, and I feel terrible about it.

“I’m trying to build a life with you.” He steps closer, as if he can convince me to change my mind by just talking to me for long enough. “But I’m offering you everything I have, and it’s still not enough. It’s never enough anymore. What the hell do you want from me?”

The crushed way he’s looking at me makes my heart break.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I just know it’s not this.”

He stands there, his face flushed with frustration, looking like he might say something angry. Something final.

Instead, he shakes his head and shoves the ring and its box back into his pocket.

“Fine,” he snaps. “Good luck bartending your way to some great escape. Because we both know that while you’re clearly too proud to admit it, you’re as stuck in this town as I am.”

With that, he stomps through the clearing, heading toward the trail that leads back to the parking lot.

Guilt and regret settle in my chest as he goes.

I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. It wasn’t fair.

But if I run after him, what am I going to say? Because I’m not going to take my decision back. And I know Matt well enough to know that he needs space.

Alotof it.

And, from the looks of it, that space is going to be permanent.

I should be devastated.

Instead, it’s like the last bit of weight I’ve been holding onto through all our breakups this year has been lifted off my shoulders.

I sink down onto the blanket again, wrapping my arms around my knees, wishing Mallory had left some whiskey behind. I’m not the type of person to drink by myself, but I’ve also never been the type of person who’s rejected her boyfriend’smarriage proposaland then been left alone in a dark clearing in the middle of the mountains.

But I’m not getting back together with Matt. We’re done. Broken up. For good now.

And I’m not going to drive back with him in what would be, without a doubt, the most awkward car ride in existence.

So, I pull out my phone, remove my gloves, and text Zoey.

You knew,I write, and then I add,You knew he was going to propose, and you left me in the woods with him.

I press send.

It doesn’t deliver.

I stare at the screen, willing the message to go through. But there’s nothing. Not even a single bar of service.

And as much as I’m dreading that car ride with Matt back into town, I’m also not stupid enough to stay here and freeze to death.

So, I get up and start down the trail, letting my phone’s flashlight guide my way.

The heartbreak that should accompany a breakup like this doesn’t appear. Not even when I think back on all our memories together. It’s like the hole in my heart has been there for months, and I’ve been piling the dirt back into it this entire time without ever realizing it.

His proposal was the final press of the shovel to pack the dirt down for good, sealing it over like a grave I never wanted to dig.

And, as I continue to walk, everything feels wrong. Not just in my heart, but in my surroundings. The trees look the same in every direction. There’s no clear path back to the parking lot. And every time I check my phone, there’s still no service.

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