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I stupidly glance at my phone hoping against hope that there’ll be a message there from Noah.

Nothing.

I don’t want to cry over him. I’m sure my friends back home would tell me he’s not worth my tears. I guess I was wrong about that too because for a moment there…

A powerful urge to walk into my mom’s warm kitchen hits me. Mom would be sitting at the counter reading the paper while Trish cooks something with lentils in it and they’d both be overjoyed to see me. I wouldn’t even mind a little overbearing advice. God knows I could use some overbearing advice right now.

Any advice really.

I’m a mess.

I guess there’s nothing left to keep me here in Kraken Cove. Even if I choose to keep the baby—god I don’t even know if there is a baby—I’d be doing it on my own.

This was only ever temporary. A holiday. A break from all the things I was trying to run from.

Well now seeing Justin and moving my things out of our apartment is the last thing I’m worried about. I’ll probably be able to do it without even crying. As long as I don’t think about the reason why I’m over Justin so quickly and so completely.

I suppose I should be grateful for that.

I’m ashamed to admit I spend another twenty minutes on the floor before I get up and wash my face and pull myself together. I pack my bag, stuffing the open box of pregnancy tests to the bottom of my suitcase and rolling my clothing, carefully stacking jeans and t-shirts on top so I don’t have to think about it.

That’s a problem for later.

Tonight I focus my energy on getting home.

I’m surprised when I manage to find a flight for two days’ time from Sydney. I ring the airline and they kindly let me rebook my flights again. I must remember to recommend them to all my friends.

Then I book a bus in the morning and let the owners of the bed and breakfast know I’ll be heading home early.

By the time I let myself check my phone again as I slip into bed, there’s still no message or call from Noah. I wasn’t expecting one.

I doubt I’ll hear from him again. He made his feelings pretty clear.

Now I’m left wishing I’d made mine clear sooner, before things got messy. As if that would have made any difference anyway.

But as my head hits the pillow and I close my eyes, I can’t stop myself wondering what if.

I wake in the pre-dawn light and can’t get back to sleep. It’s already mid-morning back home. Almost lunch time, so I call my mom and try to sound happy when I tell her I’ll be home in three days’ time.

“Oh, sweetheart. I think that’s a good decision,” Mom says, and I hear her tell Trish in the background.

A moment later, Trish’s warm voice fills my ear. “Liv, you do what you need to, love. But you know you’re welcome here as long as you like. We’ve got your old room ready for you. Your Mom even made up the bed and everything.”

“Oh, Trish!”

“Hey, please don’t cry. We’re looking forward to seeing you.”

I laugh through tears at how accurately she has me pinned. “Thanks, Trish. I’ve gotta go, OK?” I wrestle to keep the emotion from my voice. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye, pumpkin,” Mom calls from the background.

“Bye, Mom!”

I hang up before we can properly say goodbye, already too choked up with tears to talk. Will there ever be a day when I don’t feel like this? Like he’s ripped out my heart through my mouth and there’s nothing inside me anymore but a big emptiness?

I felt bad after Justin left me, sure. But I didn’t feel like this.

Maybe that’s just because I’ve been distracted. Maybe now I’m mourning both of them and that’s why it feels so bad. But in my heart of hearts I know it’s more than that.