I just want my trusty sandwich. That’s it. The streets around the diner are a nightmare. People setting up seats along the parade route, children darting back and forth. I had to park four blocks away and walk here.

“Mary,” I say, grateful for the woman behind the counter. She takes one look at me and clucks her tongue. “What?” I ask, swinging my leg over a stool and settling down with a thunk.

“You don’t look so good.” She sets an iced tea in front of me and leans one forearm on the counter. “Did you break that girl’s heart?”

I roll my eyes. “No. Why would you think that? Maybe she broke my heart.”

“She might have, but the way you two were together, there’s no way her heart isn’t as broken as yours.”

I grunt. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I want to eat a sandwich, watch the parade from my spot at the diner counter, and get ready for the opening tonight.

“Is this a Monte Cristo kind of day?” Mary asks.

I nod and sip my tea while she goes back to the window, hands someone my ticket, and hollers my name for my extra fries.

I’m staring at my hands, folded on the countertop, when I hear a guy from a few seats down call out Cassidy’s name. She turns to look at him, eyebrows raised. “How’s your little girl?” he asks loudly.

Cassidy leaves the soda station and walks to the counter, coming to a stop in front of the guy who asked her the question.

“She’s good, Chris. Thanks for asking. We didn’t know she’s allergic to bees. She’s never been stung.”

“My wife said your babysitter was about to lose it.”

Cassidy laughs softly and glances at me. “Brynn was a pinch hitter.”

I straighten. “Brynn babysat?”

“Yeah.” Cassidy is still standing beside Chris, but she’s directing her words to me. “I needed a last-minute sitter. I was hoping you’d be at her place when I went to ask, honestly.”

I nod and keep quiet. I’m not interested in publicly declaring our split.

“Brooklyn was stung and Brynn drove her to the emergency room. She used my car, obviously.”

What the…? “Brynn drove?”

Cassidy nods. “I didn’t even know she had a license. She doesn’t have a car, I guess I just assumed she didn’t know how to.” Her face pinks, like she’s embarrassed. The more she talks, the more it’s obvious she doesn’t know much about the person she left her child with, which is probably why she’s red-faced.

Mary sets my sandwich down in front of me. The entire time I’m eating, I’m trying to picture Brynn behind the wheel of a car. The image is fuzzy in my mind, and I can barely place Brooklyn in the back. Does Brynn even know how to buckle a child into a carseat? I sure as hell don’t. She must have been terrified.

I pull out my phone, bring up our text message conversation, and stare at it. My thumbs hover over the keyboard, but I can’t make them type. I don’t know what to say to her. How can the span of five days make us feel a world apart?

The parade was cool. I’ll have to think up a better adjective than that when I see Julia. She’s going to want to hear something better than cool.

I’m walking back to my car when I see shoulder-length blonde hair going the opposite direction.

“Brynn,” I call out before I even know what I’m doing. Where is the connection between my brain and my mouth?

She turns. Sees me. Her arms wrap around her middle. Protecting herself. Protecting her heart.

I jog to her. I can’t play it cool and walk, I’m not one of those guys. Fuck my sleeve, my heart is on my forehead. It doesn’t matter anyway. She’s all but gone. That money should be in her account by now. It’s Friday.

“Hi,” she says when I get to her.

“Hey,” I say back. I want to grab her and feel the outline of her body against mine. I want to run my hands through her silky hair and nibble on the corners of her lips. I want to bury myself in her and never come out. I want to run away with her.

My fucking foolish heart.

I think she wants to touch me too. Her fingers curl into her palms, which are rigid at her sides.

“Connor, I’m leaving in the morning. Something happened this week, and I need to go. It’s important I leave. For everyone.”

“What happened?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Brynn, come on. It’s me.”

Her eyes tear up. “I know it’s you, Connor, but I still don’t want to say it. I just want this nightmare to be over.”

“Am I a part of your nightmare?”

“Sort of. Moving on, leaving you, that’s part of the nightmare.” Her lower lip trembles and the tears spill over onto her cheeks. I take a step closer and she backs up. “No. I can’t handle your touch right now.”

I can’t hide the hurt on my face, which makes her cry harder.

“Not because I don’t want you. God, no. Not at all.” She swipes at her cheeks. “Because I want you too much. If I bend at all, I’m sure to break.”

A car drives by us. Brynn’s eyes flicker to it, scrutinizing. It turns the corner and she looks back at me.

“Aren’t you already broken?” I want to hold her. That’s all. Her warmth is everything I need.

She nods and takes another step away. “Will you let me drive you home?”

She says no without stopping to consider. I already knew she would do this.

“What if I promise not to talk? Then you won’t have to walk.”

We both smile. I didn’t even mean to rhyme.

“Okay,” she says softly, falling into step beside me. When we reach my truck, I open her door and she climbs in. I go around and hop in.

It’s hard to breathe the same air as Brynn and stay calm. Five days without her was enough time to make her seem new again, even though I know every inch of her. The body I devoured night after night, the lips I claimed, the heart I stole, feels far away from me now.

Once I navigate out of the parade area, the drive is easy. There are only a few cars driving around us, and it’s quiet for a Friday afternoon.

I make good on my promise. No talking. When I pull up to her place, she breaks the silence.

“Good luck tonight.” Only one side of her mouth lifts with the smile she’s trying to put on her face.

“You’re coming, right?”

She nods. She looks so sad.

“You said you wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Her mouth immediately opens to argue. I know as well as she does that she never agreed to that, but I still put up a hand to stop her.

“I need a goodbye, Brynn. Maybe you don’t, but I do.”

“Okay,” she whispers. She gets out of my truck and slams the door. She waves once, slowly, then turns toward the house.

Suddenly I remember something. Rolling down the window, I yell, “You drove a car.”

She turns back to face me, her eyes wary. “It was an emergency.”

“Maybe so, but you did it.”

I roll up the window up, not giving her the chance to argue. Looking in my side mirror, I wait for a car to pass, and drive away.