Page 148 of Merry Me
One week later
The late afternoon sunlight slanted through the smudged window of my college apartment, casting everything in a soft, honey-colored glow. It made even the mess look charming.
Textbooks were scattered across my desk, sticky notes clinging to their pages like desperate leaves. A half-dead succulent leaned pathetically toward the light, and my lavender candle burned unevenly, valiantly trying to cover the lingering scent of last night’s sesame chicken.
The radiator clanked in the corner, loud, stubborn, familiar. Usually, the noise grounded me.
Today, it made the room feel hollow.
My suitcase lay open on the floor, stuffed with clothes and the remnants of a week that had turned everything upside down—in the best, most terrifying way.
Easton had flown back to L.A. yesterday morning for a few last-minute reshoots. Just a week, we’d promised. We could do a week.
It had felt manageable when he kissed me goodbye at the airport, when he whisperedI’ll be counting down every second until I’m back to youagainst my ear.
But now?
The silence in my apartment pressed in around me, thick and constant. Like I’d built a space shaped perfectly for him…and then he’d left.
I missed him more than I thought possible. Fiercely. Suddenly. Like my body was still trying to calibrate to the space he’d filled and left behind.
We hadn’t figured everything out yet. There were still questions. How we’d handle the distance. How we’d juggle our lives on opposite coasts. I still had years of school ahead of me. Papers. Practicums. Late nights and internships and exams.
And he had a career exploding faster than either of us could have predicted.
We didn’t have a perfect plan.
But we had each other.
And we were both determined to make it work.
I sighed and ran a hand through my travel-messy hair, then dropped to my knees beside the suitcase. Might as well unpack. Try to return to something that resembled normal before classes started.
I pulled out a red sweater—thered sweater—the one that would forever be linked to Christmas brunch and crimes against public decency.
A smile tugged at my lips as I folded it, remembering Easton’s hand creeping up my leg while MeMaw delivered an unhinged speech about soulmates and how they created superior children, totally oblivious to the fact that her granddaughter was one rogue gasp away from scandalizing the entire waffle station.
Apparently, Easton and tables and my thigh were a combination I was going to have to watch out for in the future.
Fuck. I missed him.
I kept unpacking. Jeans. Scarves. My toiletry bag. Socks.
Then my fingers brushed against something soft and unfamiliar.
I paused.
There, tucked in the side pocket, hidden beneath a balled-up scarf…was a small velvet box.
Deep blue. Elegant.
And definitely not mine.
A tremble worked its way through me as I pulled it out. I turned it over in my hands, my heart thudding, trying to make sense of it. The hinge creaked softly as I opened it.
Inside sat a delicate silver necklace, the pendant shaped like a constellation.
Ourconstellation.
