How do I tell his best friend that I’ve never given up on Zanders, and I never will? But I have given up on us. When I took a new job and booked a flight to go back to Seattle next week to find an apartment, I gave up on us.
But I can’t say that all right now, so I slightly nod my head while averting my eyes away from Maddison’s.
He heads back to his seat with that, and I spend the next four hours hiding in the galley and trying to enjoy my last flight as much as I can, even though the man I’m in love with and who broke my heart sits less than thirty feet from me.
And as I watch him walk off the plane when we land in Chicago, I wonder how many more times I’ll see him in person, if any.
“How much longer do I have you?”
“A month. Maybe two. I’m heading back to find an apartment next week, so it depends on that.”
“I don’t want you to leave,” Cheryl reminds me. “If I could pay you to work here and convince you to stay, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
Sitting on the floor with one of our newly surrendered pups, I shoot Cheryl a grateful smile. “I’m going to miss it here.”
That’s the understatement of the year. This shelter has stolen a huge part of my heart over the last nine months since I moved to Chicago. It’s the place where I feel most needed, where I’m the happiest, where I feel like I’m doing something worthy of my time. It’s never been about the money for me, but I need an income to live off, and I need a fresh start to begin healing my broken heart.
If I could take the shelter and all the dogs with me to Seattle, I’d do it in an instant.
I wish I could take everything that’s my life in Chicago, minus the heartbreak, and bring it with me, but at this point, choosing to make myself feel better is more important than missing all my favorite parts of this city.
“You know,” Cheryl continues. “You won’t be living with your brother in Seattle.” She looks down at the pup in my lap suggestively. “Maybe it’s time for your own.”
The pug mix is shaking in my lap, dropped off only twenty-four hours ago, so I continue to pet his coat, hoping to calm him down. “Once I get settled, I’ll be back in Chicago to catch some of Ryan’s games. Maybe I can take one with me then.”
Sensing Cheryl’s eyes on me, I keep my focus locked on the dog in my lap. “Stevie, are you sure you want to go?”
“Yes.” I force a smile. “It’ll be good for me.”
The bell over the front door rings as my brother comes charging in.
“Ryan?” I question from my seat on the floor, never once seeing my allergic brother step foot in this building and knowing something is majorly wrong now that he is.
“Vee.” His blue-green eyes stare down at me with an apology. “Your name got released.”
The room around me stills. I’m sure the dogs are still roaming around and playing, but I can’t tell. My attention is locked on Ryan as I try to register what he just said, hoping I misheard him.
“Are you sure?” Pulling my phone out, I frantically begin typing my name.
“Evan Zanders’ girlfriend. Flight attendant for his team.”
“Caught cheating on Shay,” is accompanied by the picture from the game outside of Seattle, where another girl grabbed his arm. I know it’s not true, but it’s not fun to look at.
“Devils’ point guard Ryan Shay’s sister dating Raptors’ defenseman Evan Zanders.”
Each article is paired with the picture of the two of us rushing into Zanders’ apartment, the one that quickly circulated the internet last week and caused an onslaught of hateful comments. But now, there are plenty of other photos of me included. Ones with my face clearly shown.
Good thing I quit my job two days ago because I’d be fired right now if I hadn’t.
“There are paparazzi and reporters outside of our building,” Ryan adds.
I sit in stunned silence. I just went through the horrible comments last week. I’m not ready to do it again.
Gus, Cheryl’s dog, leisurely approaches my brother before rubbing his entire golden body across his shins. “Can I walk you home? I need to get out of here.” Ryan scrunches his nose, on the verge of sneezing.
Standing from the ground, I take our newest shelter pup, who finally fell asleep, and pass him off to Cheryl. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” I reassure her before following my brother outside.
He holds out a long trench coat, one I wear on rainy days, but today it’s a warm seventy-eight degrees, so my brows furrow in confusion as I look back to him.