20. Hutton

hutton

. . .

I listened to her come in, get ready for bed, and slide in beside me. But rather than pull her close like I wanted to, I feigned sleep.

My heart ached when she rolled away from me, and I heard her sniffle.

But I kept my eyes shut and my body still.

Avoidance was my specialty.

I arrived in D.C. exhausted and miserable, and spent the day being dragged around by Wade, who wanted me to schmooze a bunch of politicians ahead of tomorrow’s hearing.

But schmoozing was not in my skill set on a good day. I was terrible at remembering names, I had no idea where anyone was from, my head was pounding, and Wade constantly telling me to chill the fuck out was not helping.

By five o’clock, I was beyond done.

I pulled Wade aside at the cocktail reception I was suffering through. “I’m going back to the hotel,” I told him in a voice that said don’t fuck with me . “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Dude, don’t leave now. Orbach isn’t even here yet.”

I had no idea who Orbach was or why I needed to care that he hadn’t arrived. “I’m out,” I said. “Sorry.”

Wade rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll stay and gather the intel. We’ll have breakfast tomorrow before the hearing. Answer your fucking phone in the morning.”

Ducking out of the reception without another word, I caught a car back to the hotel, went up to my room, kicked off my shoes, took off my jacket and tie, and crashed. I hadn’t slept at all last night, and I’d felt like a complete asshole leaving this morning without saying goodbye or even kissing her cheek. Instead, I’d left her a note on the counter.

Didn’t want to wake you. I’ll text you later.

Lame as fuck, and after I left, I thought of a hundred other things I could have and should have said.

Sorry about yesterday.

I was a dick.

Let’s talk when I get home.

I’ll miss you.

I buried my head under the pillow and fell asleep.

I woke up groggy and confused. It took me a minute to remember where I was. Checking my phone, I saw that I’d been asleep for three hours and had missed texts from my assistant in San Francisco, my mother, my sister, and Wade, but not Felicity.

My assistant wanted to make sure I had the most updated schedule for tomorrow. My mother wanted to make sure Felicity and I were still planning to meet her and my dad for dinner at Etoile Saturday night—the ruse for getting us to the party. My sister wanted to wish me luck and also offer advice about dealing with negative thoughts.

You can separate yourself from the thoughts. Create some space between yourself and those negative feelings. Acknowledge them, but don’t struggle against them. The fight makes it worse. They’re not as powerful as they seem.

Frowning, I set my phone down and rubbed my face. My stomach growled loudly, and I realized I hadn’t eaten much of anything today. I scanned the QR code for the room service menu and ordered dinner. Then I took off my shirt and dress pants, tugged on some sweats, and opened my laptop to go over my notes.

But I couldn’t think. I felt horrible about the silence between Felicity and me. Should I call her? She was at work, but she’d see it eventually. At least she’d know I was thinking about her, and that I cared enough to actually make a phone call.

Before I dialed, I rehearsed what I’d say. I even wrote it down on the hotel stationery.

Hey, I want to apologize about yesterday. I can see now that it wasn’t a good idea. This thing with us has sort of taken me by surprise, and I’m not sure how to handle it. Anyway, I miss you and I’m sorry. Give me a call when you can.

I read it aloud ten times. Then I dialed her number.

My pulse kicked up a little as it rang, and I took a few deep breaths, scanning the words I’d scribbled out.

“Hello?”

Oh, shit. She answered. “Uh . . . hi.”

“Hi.”

“I didn’t think you’d answer. I thought you were at work.”

“I wasn’t feeling well tonight. I took the night off.”

“Are you okay?” I asked, immediately concerned.

“I’m fine. Just . . . needed a night off.”

“Oh.” I was scrambling for words when I heard another voice in the background. “Is someone there?”

“Millie. She’s, um, helping me with something.”

“Oh.”

“She says good luck tomorrow.”

“Tell her thanks.” I looked at the handwritten message I’d planned to leave and wondered if I should still read it. I felt a little weird about it now that I knew she wasn’t alone.

“How’s your trip so far?”

“It’s fine.”

“How are you feeling about tomorrow?”

“Nervous.”

“You’re gonna be amazing. I know it.”

“Thanks.” I felt like a goose egg was stuck in my throat. “Felicity, I... I want to say something, but I don’t know how.”

“Hang on.” Her voice grew muffled, but it sounded like she was telling Millie she was going outside for a minute. A moment later, she said, “What do you want to say?”

I love you. I need you. I want you in my life, by my side. Let’s find a way to make it work.

But what I said was, “I’m sorry.”

Silence. “For what?”

“For what I said yesterday morning. I shouldn’t have made the offer about the house.”

“Oh. It’s okay,” she said. “You did it to be nice. I understand.”

It sounded like she might be crying, which made my chest feel like it was splitting in two. I was desperate to hold onto her, but I felt like my hands were tied. “You know I would do anything for you, if you asked.”

“I know.” Her voice trembled. “But some things you can’t ask for.”

“Felicity—”

“It was a good idea we had. To end things how we planned.”

That caught me off guard. “What?”

“It’s the right way. The only way. We’ll get through the party, and then figure things out. But it’s nothing you need to worry about now. Focus on the hearing, and we’ll talk when you get back.”

I tried to swallow and couldn’t. “Is that what you want?”

“It’s what we agreed to, Hutton.” Her voice broke on my name. “It’s how this was always going to end.”

That night, when I got ready for bed, I found the small plastic bottle of lotion she’d tucked into my toiletry bag. At first, I thought she’d done it by mistake, but then I noticed she’d written on it—in one of those eyeliner pencils?—using our code.

Breathe , it said. You got this.

I unscrewed the top and held the lotion to my nose, inhaling. The lavender and vanilla scent hit me like a tidal wave.

Allie was right. Felicity was so good for me.

Was it possible I could be good enough for her?