I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been. Kane wasn’t a cheater or an asshole, he was just a man with a broken heart. Sandra meant it when she said that Kane had one of the biggest hearts she’d ever known, and I, Meadow the Jackass, had stomped all over it like a crazy jealous ogre.

“I need to go. I have to find him and apologize,” I said, starting to panic.

“Of course you can go. I can handle opening on my own, but you might have already missed him,” Sandra said.

“What? Why? I need to see him. I said awful things, Sandra. I was horrible to him.”

“The guys are going to Big Sur today. He might have already left.” “He said he needed to do work at the shop first. Where’s the shop? I can go there, maybe he’s still there,” I said.

I couldn’t just let it go and wait for when he got back from his trip. I had to apologize immediately or I’d die.

I needed to tell him I was sorry. Sorry for how I behaved and sorry for his loss. The second he said her name, I just jumped to conclusions and went off on a psycho rampage. I was furious with him for just sitting there in bed. Now I knew why.

“Here’s the address for the shop. I’ll take care of the café. Go.”

I looked at her like she was my savior and hugged her tighter than I’d ever hugged anyone.

“I’m so sorry. I promise I’m not normally surrounded by so much drama. Please, Sandra, I have to ask you to keep all this a secret. All of the Kane stuff. I don’t want anyone to find out about us sleeping together, and I especially would hate if anyone found out what happened this morning. I need to find him and make things right. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

I rushed through the restaurant, took off my apron and left it on the counter, before heading out the door. Thankfully, my car hadn’t been towed and I got in and sped to the shop. As I rolled my way through each stop sign, I wondered what I would say when I saw him. I had no idea how to redeem myself after my display.

I found his shop and instead of using a parking spot, I drove right up to the front door. The closed sign was facing forward, the door was locked, and the lights were all out. I went to the back where the garage doors were. I tried lifting them with no luck. I banged and banged on them, but no one came.

He wasn’t there.

I ran back to my car and hoped to God I’d find him at his place. I drove like a lunatic and was lucky I wasn’t pulled over.

I parked and ran up to the front door. I rang the bell, and after waiting one second for him to answer, rang it again and again. With still no sign, I started knocking too. I peeked in the window before deciding to run around back to the deck entrance. I ran up the stairs about as gracefully as an elephant being chased by a mouse. I got to the door and knocked again. Then, I reached to open the door, but it was locked. I put my face to the glass and used my hands to block the glare so I could see inside. I noticed his shoes that were there earlier were gone now. I also noticed that the pictures I had crumpled and thrown to the ground were now in a neat pile on the kitchen table. I turned around and slumped to the ground. I sat there and held my head in my hands. I had made such a horrible mistake. I was so embarrassed. Mortified. I hated the thought of him meeting up with the guys in Big Sur and telling them everything I’d said to him.

It was such a knee-jerk reaction and I had no excuse. Why couldn’t I just shut my giant mouth for a moment and let him explain?

In a last ditch effort, I reached over my head and knocked on the door one last time. Still nothing. I picked myself off the ground and made my way to my car. Even though I knew he wasn’t home, I kept looking back to the door to see if he was there.

He wasn’t.

I got into the passenger side of my car and opened the glovebox to get a piece of paper and pen. In all of the time we spent together, we were too busy talking or fucking to bother exchanging numbers. I had to leave him a note so he’d know I wanted to talk to him as soon as possible. I held the pen and paper in my hands and the blank page stared me in the face.

I had no idea what to write. I had no idea how I could ever recover from the damage I did that morning. What could I possibly say that would smooth it over? I was sure I’d put myself on the top of his list of most hated people. My hand was shaking as it held the pen, nervous to write the wrong thing.

I scribbled all over the page. Maybe I really was an idiot. I ripped the page off the pad and crumpled it up. I wrote his name again at the top of a fresh page.

Ugh, too pathetic. Regretfully yours? Come on. I scribbled all over that page too and threw it on the floor of the car. I wrote his name a third time on a new page.

I sat and looked at the letter. I wrote my number beneath my name. I could have written him a novel with all of the things I wanted to say, but I knew a letter wasn’t the place for it. I needed to see him. I needed him to see me so he would believe how truly sorry I was. I walked to the back door again, folded the piece of paper and wedged it in the door near the handle.

I felt torn between going back to work at the café or just finding a dark hole to crawl into for the rest of eternity. My anxiety said dark hole, my conscience said work. I got my phone out of my purse to text Sandra.

Getting her text was a great relief. I drove back to my motel, kicked off my shoes and crawled under the blankets. I was exhausted in every sense of the word. Not only was I emotionally overwhelmed, but I really didn’t get much sleep at his place. I lay in bed for hours, my head covered by the blanket, but my guilt, regret, and anxiety wouldn’t let me rest. I knew I had to talk to him.

I watched my phone until she replied with the number.

I started typing a text to Kane without hesitation.

I turned the volume on my phone up high and put it next to my head on the pillow while I impatiently waited for his response.

I had finally fallen asleep. With my eyes still shut, I reached for my phone to check the time. It was nine thirty at night. I’d drifted off to sleep and slept through the entire day. I had four texts and two missed calls from Sandra, but nothing from Kane. I put my phone back down, rolled over, and fell back asleep.