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“I do. You just need to give her some time. We both do.”

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this mess.”

“Stop worrying about me and tell me what happened with you and River. He never showed up at the festival and when Lyric called him, he said he was on his way home.”

“He left?” I croak, the realization further splitting me open. I curl into myself again, trying and failing to keep the pain from seeping in.

“He did,” she confirms softly.

“He overheard me telling Lyric I was in love with him,” I admit, sniffing loudly.

“I take it he didn’t handle it well?”

“He didn’t handle it at all,” I croak. “He just... looked at me like he didn’t know what to say.”

“Maybe you just surprised him.”

“I didn’t surprise him, Mais. I scared him. Apparently, enough for him to run away back to North Carolina.”

“Then he’s an idiot,” Maisie says unapologetically.

I look up at her once more.

“Mais...”

“I’m just saying... You are the most beautiful, fierce, witty, and overall entertaining person I’ve ever met. If he can’t see how incredibly lucky he is to be loved by someone like you, then he’s a damn fool.”

“If only that made it hurt a little less.”

“Unfortunately, nothing will. Except for time.”

“I don’t want to feel like this, Mais. Like I’m being torn open by invisible claws that won’t stop scratching and ripping at my skin. I hurt... everywhere.” I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing tears past my lashes.

“Which is precisely why I’ve decided to write off all relationships for... well, maybe ever.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Oh, but I do. And seeing you like this only reinforces this for me. No man is worth this, Charlotte. Not even River Parker, gorgeous as he may be.”

“I wish you could convince my heart of that fact,” I mutter bitterly.

“Come on. Let’s get you in bed. Maybe you’ll feel better after a long night of sleep.”

I hate to tell her, but not even sleep is going to ease this pain that seems to be eating me alive from the inside out. I’ve never felt my emotions manifest into physical pain before and the feeling is unbearable.

But I do what she says anyway, pushing up on wobbly legs before climbing into my bunk. When my head hits the pillow, all I smell is River. His cologne. The natural scent of his skin. It envelopes me, holding me captive. Turning to face the wall, I bury my face in the pillowcase and then allow grief to swallow me whole once more.

“I don’t know what to do. I’ve never seen her like this before,” I hear Maisie say, her voice breaking through the fog of sleep.

I blink into the brightness of the room, tugging the blanket over my head to block out the light that stings my tear-swollen eyes.

It’s been six days since River left.

Six days since I’ve left this bed.

I haven’t showered.

Have thrown up any food I’ve attempted to eat.