Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 52643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
“So, he’s not here?”
“Oh, no.” She sets out a couple of mugs. “He left this morning, but I’d love to hear an overview of your work.”
I spot a post-it note on the counter that bears Liam’s handwriting.
To the next teacher:
The list of reminders & ‘house things you need to know’ is inside the cabinet.
“You were in his mentoring group, right?” She takes out the creamer.
“Yes.” A lump rises up my throat. “I was…”
“Did he ever figure out which one of you lovely girls got him that gift?”
“Which gift?” I look over to where he’s abandoned my snow globe, and the tears I’ve been holding back finally break free.
“Miss Edwards?” She places her hand on my shoulder. “Are you alright?”
I rush out of the house without answering her, running to our favorite coffee shop to see if Liam is there.
Would he really leave me without saying goodbye?
6
GENEVIEVE
Me
What happened between this weekend and yesterday?
How can you possibly leave without telling ME?
Hello? HELLO????
Are you just going to IGNORE me like this, Liam?
Do I need to call you “MR. DONOVAN” and ask about my work to get a response?
7
GENEVIEVE
Me
Please say something.
Anything…
Message Undeliverable. The number you’re attempting to reach is no longer in service. Please check the number and try again.
8
GENEVIEVE
Iwake up in the middle of the night, drenched in a cold sweat. I turn over and reach for Liam, hoping the past couple of weeks have all been a dream, but he’s not there.
He really left me.
9
GENEVIEVE
What’s left of the spring semester saunters by in a somber blur, with senior events and celebrations that I don’t care to cherish.
On Honors Day, when Principal Peterson announces me as the valedictorian and presents me with a custom plaque, I burst into tears.
Without Liam, there’s no one I care to celebrate the news with, no one to call.
I spend every free moment searching for any man with the last name “Donovan.” I focus my search on New York, Boston, Pittsburgh, and then I desperately expand to every city he’s ever mentioned.
None of the men I find belong to me, though; they never grant clues that lead someplace promising either.
By summer, my heart still clings to the hope that Liam will return someday, that he has a perfect explanation for what’s happened. It’s convinced me that we’ll pick up our pens where we left off and co-write the rest of our story.
Probably by this fall.
He’ll definitely reach out to me by then…
—
Four Years Later
LESSON #5
“If you love someone, let [them] go. If they come back to you, that’s how you know they’re yours…”
If you love someone, why would ever consider letting [them] go?
Love isn’t some type of test they need to pass.
On the other hand, if they leave you, just let them leave and never forget how they made you feel.
That way, whenever they show up again, you’re ready to slam the door in their face.
1
GENEVIEVE
Cambridge, Massachusetts
Ionce heard someone say, “The best cure for a broken heart is distance and time.” That somehow, the longer you spend away from your lost love, the more minutes will wash away the memories, cleansing your mind of all the days you spent together.
But after all this time, Liam still visits me in my dreams. His kisses linger on my lips, and my heart is still shattered in all the same places. No seconds or sutures have shown up to soothe my pain.
And yet, today, I’m determined to finally let him go.
Opening my phone, I finally delete our message thread and every picture we took together.
Even though I know his number by heart, I erase it and vow never to save it again.
After crying my eyes out one last time in the shower, I rush to the library and find the hot, young state prosecutor who keeps asking me out for coffee.
Instead of saying, “I’m not ready to date again,” I ask him when he wants to pick me up for dinner.
2
GENEVIEVE
“Genevieveeee!” My former roommate, Lauren, screams in my kitchen. “Genevieve?”
She’s known me for almost two years and still pronounces my name like “Jean-yay-Veev.” Yet, my nickname, “Gen-Gen,” comes out just fine.
“Yeah, Lauren?” I call back.
“The party starts in two hours and you said we could pre-game in the car.” She rushes to my doorway. “You said you weren’t going to come up with a last-minute excuse this time.”
“I’m not,” I say. “I just need to grab my coat and I’ll be ready.”
“You’re wearing that?” She looks appalled. “Is your real outfit in your purse?”
I glance at my reflection in the mirror.
My black turtleneck and skinny jeans are paired with glittery gold stilettos and matching “In My New Era” earrings.
“I don’t see a problem.” I shrug. “You said you loved this outfit when I wore it two weeks ago.”
“Yeah, to a meet-and-greet.” She walks to my closet. “Celebrities are attending this party, so you need to look like you belong there.”