Page 95 of The Romantic Agenda
The first deer’s ears flick again, drawing Joy’s eye. There are two small nubs on its forehead and a patch of white around its muzzle and down its neck. She’s never seen a deer before. It’s both bigger and smaller than she thought it’d be. It’s hair also has a grayish tint to it, not a solid Bambi brown that her scared brain initially thought. Judging by the tiny nubs, it must be young too.
“Hey, hey,” she whispers. “I’m just having some me time out here. You can go do your deer thing. I won’t move until you go.”To prove it, she sits on the ground and patiently waits for it to leave.
But it doesn’t. Not for a while.
Not until it hears the chime caused by a text from Malcolm:
Pack your bags. We’re leaving. Tonight.
Twenty-Six
Malcolm breezes into the house shortly after sending his text. He gathers his things, only sharing words and directions with Summer.
They’re packed and out of the cabin fifty-seven minutes later. All the non-perishable leftover food and drinks are set out for pickup to go to a local food bank.
Joy takes her time saying goodbye to the lake and all her favorite spots in the cabin like the hammock, the kitchen, and the front porch. It’s hard to believe that when she first arrived, she threw herself into the lake because she felt so suffocated by the situation she put herself in, and by Summer.
And now, as they’re leaving, she’s made her peace with Summer, facing an uncertain future with Malcolm, and saying goodbye to her fake boyfriend, who, according to Summer, has developedrealfeelings for her.
Oh lord, are those feelings mutual.
One last time, they all climb into Malcolm’s Jeep. Summer navigates again, playlist of warbly whiny boys back in rotation. This time, Malcolm frequently glances upward to check on Joy through the mirror. Instead of sitting behind him, Joy takes up the middle seat to be closer to Fox.
Fox holds Joy’s hand, and she rests her head on his shoulder. Every so often he presses a kiss to the top of her forehead. Malcolm’s text had been so sudden, Joy didn’t have time to process that going home also meant an early end to the deal with Fox. And now that she has there’s this peculiar encroaching sadness growing inside of her with every minute that passes, every mile they travel.
The drive home always feels faster than the original trip. Joy’s never understood why. She has a poor understanding of time to begin with and being sad only makes it worse. It doesn’t slow down to give her more time with Fox. No, it seems to speed up to spite her—just rubbing it in that their brief engagement has been forcibly cut short. She wanted to experience, wanted to live those handful of remaining vacation hours with Fox.
What couldn’t have possibly been two hours later, Malcolm pulls into his driveway and shuts the car off. Summer and Malcolm jump out, slamming the doors behind them.
Joy doesn’t move, staying right where she is, counting every stolen second until Fox’s lips brush against her forehead. “Are you resting?”
“No.” She lifts her head and kisses him.
Joy wants to remember this moment.
Fox’s thumb massaging small circles on the back of her hand. The subtle smell of roses and aloe. His stubble pleasantly rubbing her face. The rise and fall of his chest supported by his steadybreathing. The rumble of his voice. His reluctant laughs and hard-won smiles.
She forces her brain to catalog it so she never forgets the five minutes when someone made her feel enough to eclipse Malcolm’s constant presence in her mind.
“Okay.” Eyes closed, Joy takes a deep breath.
He nudges her, kissing her cheek.
“Okay,” she says again. “We should go.”
They get out of the car and Joy heads for the trunk.
“Where are your keys?” Malcolm is standing with her suitcases.
Startled that Malcolm’s speaking to her now, she fishes them out of her purse and beeps her car without question. He doesn’t wait, immediately loading them into the trunk for her.
Across the street, Fox loads his and Summer’s suitcases into a blue car. She’s waiting by the passenger side door and when she spots Joy watching her, she waves and yells, “Don’t forget game night on Wednesday!”
“All set.” Malcolm returns to Joy’s side. “Text me when you get home so I know you made it safely.”
“Did you want to talk at all? You—”
“No,” he says firmly, already walking toward his house. “I really don’t.”
