Page 93 of A Quick Stop in Paradise

“Oh… maybe it’s just me.” She turned her gaze back to the sky. “I just… god, Stella is… she’s so far out of my fucking league. I feel like I had some kind of encounter with divinity. I’m so fucking sad she left, but… I’m just really grateful I got to spend time with her. And I guess maybe there’s this part of me that’s like… ifshesaw something in me, maybe I’m not the worst in the world. Or maybe I at least have the potential to be something worthwhile.”

I swallowed against the bitter feeling in my throat, putting on a smile. “Love comes in a lot of ways, takes a lot of forms, and a lot of the time, it hurts. A lot. But I’ve never heard someone regret loving somebody.”

Allison snorted. “Is this because I’m a lesbian, you think I’m in love with her after we were together for a couple days?”

“I don’t think you’rein lovewith her, but I think you felt things that are in the same category as love, don’t you? You loved things about her. You loved the time you spent with her. Don’t waste your feelings away by sitting around overanalyzing them.”

She scoffed, sitting up to take a long sip of her drink and crashing back down before she mumbled, “Are you… are you doing okay?”

“I’m all right,” I lied. That one I definitely knew was a lie. “I’ll be all right,” I said, that one maybe true. Hard to say.

“You really didn’t want to… I don’t know. Ask her to come back?”

I snorted, turning away. “Forget it, Allison. It’s done now.”

“She’s different from the others, isn’t she? She really meant something to you.”

“I’ve got a big heart. Lots of people mean something to me.”

“Don’t give me—”

“Even Laura means something to me. That’s saying something.”

She groaned. “You’re even worse than I am when you’ve gotten your heart broken.”

I turned on her, my lips pursed tightly. “Allison, what am I supposed to do? If I’d asked her to make something more serious out of this, then either she’d say no and I’d feel like crap, or she’d say yes and mess with her already fragile life situation trying to make this work with me, and then I’d feel even worse, screwing with her life like that.”

“You know—”

“No, I don’t know.” I stood up. “I don’t know anything. But that’s how it goes. It sucks when someone leaves. It sucks wheneveryoneleaves. But you get used to it. You get used to the fact that you don’t get used to it—used to the fact that it’s going to hurt every time, and you’re going to be broken for a few days after. And yeah, this is worse than usual. Might be a whole week. But life’s made up of a whole lot of weeks. It’ll go on. I’ll get better. And I’ll find someone else to pass a week with, and then I’ll be a little sad about them leaving, and then I’ll get better. Nobody’s got a perfect life happy all the time. Trying to pretend like you do is how you end up like that asshole Isabel harassing someone who lets you know your girlfriend was unfaithful. I’m going to be miserable sometimes. It doesn’t mean I’m doing something wrong.”

Allison was quiet, hunching her shoulders, staring down into her drink. I muttered a quiet curse, flopping back down onto the seat next to her.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to go off on you. I appreciate you coming around and checking in. I’m just a little bit of a mess at the moment.”

She laughed thickly. “Okay, well, verdict is, I don’t think I like hookups.”

“Fair enough.”

“I’m not sad I did it, though… thanks. For the push, and everything.”

I shook my head with a dry, quiet laugh. “You’re a better person than I am, Allison. Glad I get to at least make you pizzas. Now eat up. It’s getting cold.”

“It was just in a trillion-degree oven. It’s not getting cold that fast.” But she took a bite of pizza, chewing slowly, as we looked up at the stars, crisp and clear out here over the water, and I said,

“I’m glad she’s a writer.”

“Ryan?”

“Yeah. I subscribed to her newsletter. Under a different email that doesn’t have my name in it… just in case. I’ll get to read her writing, and it’ll be like I’m hearing her voice again. So I’m going to be very well-informed.”

“Christ, you’re down bad.”

“Christ, I really am.”

She snorted, and she took another bite of pizza, taking a long time before she said, “Stella’s studying graphic design, so I, uh, I followed her Instagram. She posts a lot of her work there. She’s really good.”

“You’re just as down bad…”

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