Page 55 of Meet Me in the Valley
What time is your flight tomorrow again?
Tia
Take off is at 2:25 pm from San Fran, putting me in Vegas around 4 local time. Donovan and Audrey are dropping me off. I just sent you a picture of my itinerary.
Logan
Thanks. Got it. I’m glad Auds and D are taking you. Will you let me know when you land?
Tia
Of course.
Tia
I really miss you, Lo. I hate being away from you. I’m actually freaking out about this whole Vegas situation, but seeing Mom earlier at dinner tonight hurt so badly. She called me Nora, and it killed me. I wish you were here.
The second I hit send, my heart beats in my ears. I’m breathing so loud it drowns out the singing crickets. I said no regrets, and although I didn’t flat out tell Logan in my message that I’m in love with him, it’s the closest I’ve ever gotten.
With shaky hands, I cradle my phone so close to my face that the backlight from the screen blurs my vision. Those three dots appear and disappear for well over two minutes. With every passing second, my stomach plummets in a free fall. I worry I’ve said too much.
Or maybe not enough.
I give up after half an hour with no response, dragging my sorry self through the French doors and straight to bed. I keep the safety of the fleece blanket wrapped around me, squeezing tighter as I fight the tears welling up in my tired eyes.
“I’ll try, no regrets.”
My painful words are the last thing I hear before my eyes flutter closed, but not before his crooked smile appears like the most beautiful mirage.
He’s there to haunt my dreams, and I’ll let him, because it’s better than not having him at all.
Chapter Seventeen
LOGAN
Tia
I really miss you, Lo. I hate being away from you. I’m actually freaking out about this whole Vegas situation, but seeing mom earlier at dinner tonight hurt so badly. She called me Nora, and it killed me. I wish you were here.
Fuck.
I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, that might as well be the edge of a skyscraper, when the urge to fall headfirst into a chasm and erase the last hour of my life hits. Heaving the contents of my regret down the toilet didn’t ease the sting of guilt marring my heart. I may be one shut-eye away from being completely sober, but I fucking know better.
What I did tonight didn’t erase Tia from my mind. Not even close. If anything, it carved her in deeper.
Her body. Her voice. Her laugh. The way she looks at me when she’s trying not to.
All of it. Louder and clearer, like a sick punishment.
I thought I could silence it—dull the ache, distract myself,fucking forget.
But that?
That was bullshit what I did. A pathetic, weak lapse in judgment. I took the so-called easy way out, and all it did was leave me emptier.
I stare at her text, then type something, but it doesn’t feel right, so I delete. Then I go typing something again—and delete. Delete. Delete.
DELETE!
