Page 121 of Imperfect Arrangement

You must have realized by now that I’m gone.

I’m sure you’re upset, angry, and probably even disappointed. Believe me, I’m not proud of myself right now either.

But I can’t do this anymore.

I’m so grateful for the time I had with you and Quill. It was so easy to forget how and why I was here and…just be. Like I was meant to be a part of it all. Like it was real.

Thank you for showing me what my life could have been—if things were different. But the truth is, things aren’t different. What we had was an imperfect arrangement, filled with perfect moments we were never supposed to have.

We started as business rivals. I wasn’t supposed to bond with Quill, love her like she was mine.

Then we became business partners. We again weren’t supposed to become more. We weren’t supposed to stand in a room full of people and pretend we were engaged.

And everything snowballed from there.

You cared about my dream like it was yours. You showed me what it meant to have someone stand beside me, to pick up the pieces when I was too weary to carry them. You cared about the silly things that matter to me—the Ferris wheel, my dog’s comfort, the sunflowers.

You made me feel safe, like I belonged, and that’s why I have to go.

I don’t know when the lines blurred so much that I stopped seeing where they began, and that scares me, Ray. If I stay any longer, I won’t be able to tell what’s real and what’s fake.

Don’t you dare tell me I have a choice, because as much as your choices have both terrified and thrilled me, pushed me to the edge of something I don’t know how to survive, this is a fall I can’t make. I can’t.

Maybe there’s something wrong with me, because if I were anyone else watching myself from the outside, I’d tell me I was being stupid. That I should hold on to this, hold on to you, and never let go.

But I’m not someone else. I’m me.

I’m moving out. I’ll be at Violet’s for a few days, until I can find the strength to tell my mom and nana the truth—about us, about our fake engagement, about everything.

Thank you, again, for giving me the most unforgettable time of my life. I’ll say this one last time, if soulmates were real, I’d want you to be mine, Raymond Teager. Maybe, we can be together in another life.

Love,

Your Firefly.

I don’t knowhow long I sit there, gripping the letter like it has the power to reverse time. Like if I hold it tight enough, the words will rewrite themselves and I won’t be reading a goodbye I never saw coming.

I’m not angry anymore, instead I have a gnawing ache. How did it happen that while I was imagining our future, she was convincing herself it could never exist. While I was picturing lazy Sunday mornings with her tangled in my sheets, she was counting the days until she left. And the worst thing is, I don’t fucking know how to fix it and show her that I’m not going anywhere.

“Dad?”

I blink, looking up at Quill, who’s standing by the door in her sunflower pajamas. Hearing her voice still gets me. It’s been months since she first spoke, yet every time she speaks, it knocks the air right out of my lungs.

“Where’s Willow and Captain Lick?” she signs, her small hands forming the question.

Fuck.

I swallow hard, trying to come up with a version of the truth that won’t shatter her. But I can’t lie to my kid, not about this.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

She pads over on quiet feet, her brows pinched in concern. Kids pick up on everything, more than we give them credit for. I lift her onto my lap as I settle on Willow’s empty bed, which still smells like her.

“Willow’s gone,” I say, keeping my voice soft.

“Oh.” Quill’s hands still, then a beat later, she asks, “When will she come back?”

I rub a hand over my face, exhaling a breath that feels like it carries a weight I can’t shake. “I don’t know, Bug.” The truth tastes bitter. “She’s scared.”