“Thank you,” I say to the driver who has just opened the compartment under the bus.

The man grunts in response. He looks like a squirrel who’s hiding some peanuts in his cheeks. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his flat nose. “I’ll take a piss, and then we’ll get going. Don’t go anywhere.”

I nod.

My bag really isn’t that heavy. But still, I struggle to lift it into the compartment.

On my way here from the city, there were male passengers who were nice enough to help me load it into the bus.

I knew there wouldn’t be much company this morning, but I was hoping the bus driver, at least, would be able to help me. To be fair to the guy, though, maybe he has a back condition or something.

He probably hates his job, and I’m not surprised. Long hours on the road with a bunch of tired, often loud passengers? That sounds like hell to me.

But, at least, he has a job. Unlike me.

I glance at the door on the side of the bus. Couldn’t he have let me in before leaving? It’s not like anyone else is joining us this morning. Most people are at work, after all.

I let out a heavy sigh. For the first time since graduating college, I’m unemployed.

It’s high time I leave Ashbourne. I thought it was a good idea to spend time back home to try to forget about my troubles. As it turned out, I only caused more problems during my stay here.

Maybe I’m cursed. Perhaps problems will follow me wherever I go, starting from now.

I mean, David, my ex, wasn’t perfect. But he hired me straight out of college, and I thrived as his employee. I worked hard, too, of course.

We were two workaholics, spending a ton of time together in the same office, so naturally we became close. He was the person I spent the most time with, and vice versa.

When I realized he had feelings for me, I thought it made sense. We were a good match.

He wasn’t going to have a problem with me working all the time because he was doing the same thing. He was good-looking, successful, and perfectly nice.

So we entered into a relationship. It was . . . nice enough, in hindsight.

I wasn’t addicted to him the way I was (and still am, probably) to Eli. But on the bright side, we never had teary, explosive arguments either.

There weren’t any peaks and valleys with David. It was a stable relationship.

When it ended, I didn’t go into an almost catatonic state. I was more crushed about the news I had gotten from my doctor than about our break-up.

I thought it was just because that was an adult relationship. I was a grown-up, reacting to life events with a cool head on my shoulders.

But as I watch the bus driver disappear into the restroom, I know that’s bullshit. Because I can barely see the sign on the door with the little stick figure. Because my vision is blurry because tears are pricking my eyes again.

Jesus, when exactly will I stop crying over Eli?

I knew from the start it wasn’t going anywhere. I knew I would have to give him up.

And yet, here I am, crying while waiting for my bus driver to finish taking his piss.

Out of nowhere, I hear the sound of car engine getting closer and stopping nearby.

Checking my watch, I realize there’s still five minutes until we’re scheduled to leave. Maybe I won’t be the only passenger, after all.

God, I hope I won’t have some chatterbox sitting next to me, trying to make a conversation happen. I’m not in the mood to talk.

“Sophia,” I hear a low, smooth, familiar baritone from behind me.

I turn around slowly, wondering if I’m going crazy. I have been thinking about him the entire night . . .

But when I catch a glimpse of those big hands, those strong arms, those broad shoulders . . . I know.

I’d recognize him anywhere, even in the most tightly-packed crowd.

I look away before I catch sight of his face. I’m not strong enough for that.

“Eli?” My mouth feels dry, and I sound like I’m choking.

“I’m glad I caught you in time,” he says as he catches his breath.

Eli reaches out to take my hand, but I take a step back. I can’t let him touch me. I just can’t.

It was hard enough to walk away from him last night. It’ll be hard to get on the bus, now, without also having to physically let go of him.

“What are you doing here?” My gaze darts toward the restroom door.

Damn it, the driver still hasn’t come out yet. How long does it take the guy to take a piss?

“I need to talk to you,” he says. Just hearing his voice makes my heart clench so tight I’m scared it’ll implode.

“I don’t. Leave me alone.” I stare at the bus door, wishing I could open it with the sheer power of my will.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me. You made that clear enough last night,” he says. “But Sophia, I can’t just let you go. I told you that already. I meant it.”

Stop talking. Please, please stop talking.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I say.

“On the contrary, there’s plenty to talk about,” he says softly.

I thought he’d be furious at me for running away without an explanation. But there’s no anger in his voice; no accusation.

“Please leave,” I repeat.

“I can’t. I won’t, princess,” he says.

It’s not fair. When he calls me “princess,” my heart flips. I’m not strong enough to take this for much longer.

I look away. Snow still covers the ground. It piles up on tree branches. The sun is shining this morning, but it’s not warm enough to melt it down.

“You told me you were broken,” he says. “What did you mean by that?”

“Nothing.”

I feel stupid for saying that. I should’ve just told him we weren’t right for each other and left it at that. That had been my plan that night.

But when the moment came for me to end it, I panicked and said too much. I should’ve told him I had grown tired of him or something like that. That would’ve been easier. Simpler.

“Princess, whatever it is, you should know it won’t change the way I feel about you,” he says. “Nothing can change the way I feel about you.”

He’s just saying that because he doesn’t know. This . . . problem, it’s too big for even Eli to ignore.

And even if he’s still willing to stay with me after learning the truth, I can’t do that to him. I can’t take away something I know he’s always wanted.

“Don’t you believe me?” Eli asks as if he can read my mind.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say without meeting his gaze. “I’ve made my decision.”

“And you won’t even try to give me the chance to make the decision together with you? Or at least, let me know why you made that decision?” Eli’s voice, normally steady and calm, starts to break. He sighs. “You won’t even look at me.”

I glance at him and avert my gaze immediately, regretting what I just saw.

Eli looks . . . Well, he looks rough. He’s still wearing the outfit he wore last night, his eyes are bloodshot, and his hair is a mess.

Obviously, I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep last night.

“My decision is final,” I say, my voice shaking.

“Princess, please . . . I know you still have feelings for me. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have left in a hurry the way you did last night. You wouldn’t have cried like that.”

“Maybe you’re wrong,” I say.

“Tell me how I’m wrong. What am I wrong about?”

“Everything.”

“Like what? Name one.”

I know I should shut up and get into the bus as soon as the driver’s back. It’s not a good idea to start an argument right before I leave. I could lose my resolve.

But, as is always the case when Eli’s involved, I can’t think straight. I can’t help myself.

“Maybe you’re wrong about me having feelings for you. Maybe I’m just a crier. Maybe there’s nothing for you to fix. Maybe, even if you know why I made the decision I did, you’d agree with me,” I say, my voice growing louder with each sentence.

“Then, tell me,” Eli says.

“It doesn’t matter, okay?” I say. “I’m leaving, and that’s that.”

“What if I leave with you?”

I frown and turn toward him. “What do you mean?”

He still stands as tall as he usually does. He’s still the same big, intimidating man. But, he looks fragile this morning. Like I can ruin him with just a single touch. Or a few words.

I don’t want to do that. The last thing I want to do is to hurt him.

“What if I go to the city with you?” he repeats, his dark eyes solemn and serious.

“You can’t do that. What about your mom? And your niece?”

I’m still talking. Why am I still talking?

It doesn’t matter—nothing does. This is not even about living in the city or in Ashbourne. I’m leaving Eli, and nothing will change my mind.

Eli shakes his head. “I’ll leave everything for you. Once, I told you to leave so I could stay here. Now, I know that was a mistake. I told you. I’d do anything.”

“You can’t leave your mom and your niece,” I repeat the words, ignoring everything Eli has just said.

“I have, and I will,” Eli insists.

“Back then, Nicole was just a baby,” he continues. “I couldn’t leave my mom after her entire family had left her. Her husband had left her. Her daughter had left her.

“I couldn’t do the same thing to her. I couldn’t make her go through the single-mom experience, all on her own, again. So, I stayed.

“But now, Nicole is old enough to do a lot of things herself. She spends all day in school now. My mom even has a great boyfriend. She won’t be alone.”

Tears spring from my eyes as I listen to Eli’s words. I swallow through the lump in my throat. “It doesn’t matter,” I repeat. “This is not about that.”

“Then, what is it about?” Eli asks, his voice growing in pitch and volume as he becomes more frustrated. “I don’t care what you think is wrong with you. You’re perfect in my eyes.”

I scoff, even as tears roll down my cheeks. “You’ll find some other girl soon enough.”

“Nobody can replace you. You don’t think I’ve tried?”

I raise an eyebrow as I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand. “I think I just happened to visit when you happened to be single. It was a coincidence. Maybe you’ve tried. And then, maybe you’ve failed. But, you’ll succeed again.”

“Fuck, Sophia, what will it take for you to listen to me?” Eli raises his voice. “In the seven years that you were gone, I didn’t even touch anyone else. Not one girl.”

I stare at him, dumbfounded. Is he saying . . . He didn’t . . . Seven years, and . . .?

I shake my head. It still doesn’t matter.

“That doesn’t change anything,” I say. “Maybe now that you know it’s impossible between you and me, you’ll find someone.”

“But, it’s not impossible. It can’t be. I see the way you look at me. I feel the way you melt under my touch.” Eli stretches out his hand like he’s about to touch my face.

Again, I take a step back. From the corner of my eye, I notice the bus driver walking toward the bus. Finally.

“Princess, I don’t care what it is you think is the problem,” he says. “You’re the only one I want.”

“You’re being dramatic, Eli.” I shake my head. “You’ll find a nice girl and settle down.”

To my great relief, the bus door opens with a hiss and the bus driver climbs in.

“Princess, there can’t be anybody else. If I can’t be with you, I’ll just . . . I’ll just have to get better at keeping myself company,” Eli says. “When I think about my future, you’re in it. I want us to be a family.”

Fresh tears well up in my eyes and spill down my cheeks.

But, that’s exactly the problem. We can’t be a family. Eli can’t possibly build a family with me.

“Miss, are you coming?” the driver asks impatiently.

“Yes,” I say, putting one foot on the first step of the bus.

“No.” Eli shakes his head as he stands right by the door, looking up at me. “Please, princess. At least, tell me what the problem is.”

“The problem is, you’re wrong about everything.” I get up onto the bus, holding onto the handrail by the door.

“Please,” Eli says. “At least, tell me. I won’t be able to stop obsessing about this.”

My mind flashes back to the sleepless nights I had when I was trying to forget about Eli, when my head was filled with all kinds of possible scenarios for why Eli broke up with me.

Maybe he’s right. He deserves some closure, at the very least.

“Miss, can you please step inside?” the bus driver asks, sighing. “We’re going to be late.”

“I can’t have children, Eli,” I blurt out.

I catch a glimpse of Eli’s shocked facial expression before I turn around, and the bus door closes behind me.

As I walk through rows of empty seats, I hear Eli banging on the metal, calling my name as he runs alongside the bus.

But as the wheels turn, taking me further away from him until I stop hearing his voice. When I turn around, even through the tears in my eyes, I can see he’s no longer there.

Soon enough, he’ll forget about me. Soon enough, he’ll find someone else—a beautiful girl with whom he can have lots of children. Someone who can fulfill his dream.

Sorrow grips my heart so hard I feel like it might break. I close my eyes and lean my head back on the cushioned seat, letting my head spin.

“Miss, are you okay?” the driver asks.

“Yeah. I’m okay,” I answer, sniffling.

I’m okay.

Everything’s okay.

Eli wants a family, and I want a career.

This way, we’ll both get what we want out of life.

Life’s too short to sacrifice our dreams, right?

This may hurt like hell right now. But someday, this will all make sense.