“Belle wished she was coming today, she got so excited when I picked up my keys. She thinks she’s going paddleboarding every time I leave the house now. What have you done to her?”
“Me?” Sam asked innocently. “It’s not my fault she loves me so much. We’ll have to get her out on Manny sometime.”
“Well now that she all of a sudden loves water—again, thanks to you—she’ll probably be paddling alongside the boat as we’re sailing!” Taylor joked.
“That was so crazy with the dolphins.”
“Seriously. I wish we had it on camera.”
“Two flat whites?” A waiter placed the mugs in front of them.
“Thanks,” they said in unison.
“To… new horizons,” Sam said, picking up her coffee.
Taylor grabbed her mug and carefully clinked it with Sam’s. “New horizons, hey?”
“I spoke to my dad.”
“Oh! Of course. I completely forgot about him almost walking in on us—wait, did you tell him about us?”
Sam swallowed her mouthful of coffee, which looked painfully hot as she winced. “Not yet, no. We were sorting out the other elephant in the room. Me leaving.”
Right. The one thing they’d talked about that Taylor had conveniently forgotten. She’d closed up that memory and shoved it in the back of a closet while she let herself be in this happy bubble of a new relationship. At least they had time to work something out.
“He came around on Sunday after you left, and boy, did he drop some absolute bombs on me. All good things!” she rushed at the end.
Sam filled her in where everything was at with the business, about the offer and her dad’s own plans to travel.
“Far out. I didn’t expect all of that.”
“Neither did I. But here’s the kicker—he accepted the offer this week. Which means I’ve got thirty days before I leave and need to be out of my place.”
“Oh.”
She was leaving. Now.
“Oh wow. That’s… that’s yeah.” Taylor ran her hand through her hair and blew out a breath, her heart starting to beat faster and faster. This was why she’d wanted Taylor Time. This is why she didn’t want to get involved with someone. They always ended up leaving her, and Taylor was left alone to pick herself up, yet again.
“…means for us,” Sam was saying.
“What?” She didn’t mean for it to come out sharp, but here she was.
Sam spoke softer, more wary. “I don’t know what this means for us,” she repeated, clearing her throat, looking uncomfortable.
Taylor took a gulp of her coffee. She really wished it was in a takeaway cup.
“Umm.” She squinted her eyes shut, trying to focus. Her thoughts were rushing too fast, coming in too hot, like the coffee sliding down her throat.
“I don’t think I can do this.”
She felt herself get up, ignoring Sam’s widening eyes, her mouth dropping open. Taylor headed straight towards her car, heard the other chair scrape back, footsteps, a hand clasping around her arm.
“Taylor! Wait. Stop. What are you doing? Talk to me.”
She whirled around.
“I… I can’t do this.” Not again. And not with all thesefeelings. She blinked rapidly. She didn’t want to cry.