Page 211 of The Vacation Mix-Up
“Okay.” He turns back to his steering wheel, flicks the turn signal, and pulls away from the sidewalk. “Heading home?”
“Yes.”
Home.I stare at the quaint stores as we pass them by, my mind in disarray. Before seeing Riley with who I’m assuming was Krystal, I’d been ready to call Buxtonville home. To callhimhome. A gigantic leap of madness. But the way the two of them embraced, and how he held her to him, it’s clear Buxtonville is their home and not mine.
My cell rings beside me, catapulting my pulse to soaring heights, so I slip my hand into my bag, pull it out, and look down through my tear-stained vision at Riley’s name and the photo of us at Qaqortok on my screen.
He must’ve seen me leave. Shit!
I’m utterly mortified, and the way I’m looking at him in the picture—with lovesick Bambi eyes—is a serrated knife slicing my heart.
I hit Decline and wipe my face, exhaling a deep, excruciating breath. I would’ve liked it here with him. Loved it, even. Peaceful, serene, the opposite of NYC. It was the change my life needed. The change I always dreamed I could achieve one day.
“Are you okay, miss?” the driver asks as we pull to a stop at a set of traffic lights, his concerned eyes catching mine in the rearview mirror.
“Yes.” I sniff and wipe my face again. “I’m fine.”
Nodding, he slowly taps his finger on the steering wheel, the lyrics of “Risk” by Gracie Abrams humming softly from the speakers. I home in on the tune, almost laughing at the irony, because I was here, risking everything to be with Riley. But jumping in the deep end could lead to drowning, and that’s exactly what it felt like as my lungs filled with sorrow.
My stomach tightens as memories of us cuddling at the Blue Lagoon, kissing under the Northern Lights, and strolling the streets of Paris flicker into my mind. How it felt to be in his arms, laughing and holding his hand. The romantic sunsets. His determination. The ocean breeze whispering across our faces. None of those moments felt fake, because they weren’t. They were real.Arereal.
What if what I just saw wasn’t what it looked like?
A shiver runs the length of my spine, my damp cheeks trembling.
What if I’m overreacting?
I turn in my seat and look out the rear window along thestreet, a sliver of hope threading my heart back together and once again filling my lungs with air.
Should I go back? Should I let him explain?
The threading pauses.
But what if there’s no explanation? What if he has decided to give Krystal another chance? What if he and I were only a vacation mix-up?
As if my mother is sitting beside me, her soothing voice caresses my ear.“You only live once, Smiley Riley. Take a leap. Fall in love.”
“I am in love, Mom,” I whisper back, knowing it’s true. I can feel it to my core. Every time his eyes crinkle. Every time he rubs his beard. Every time our bodies touch and his soul dances with mine.
“I love him,” I blurt.
“Did you say something?”
My eyes once again meet my driver’s in his rearview mirror.
What am I doing? Why am I running away?
“I love him,” I blurt again.
“Who?”
“Peanut butter!”
The light turns green, and my driver accelerates.
“Stop!” I shout, feeling as if I’ve been hit by a bolt of lightning.
“What?”
