Page 11 of Picture This

I’d never met anyone who could stretch out a two-letter word the way Emily Chappel could.

“Is this because of Peter? What he did to you was—”

“Unforgivable.”

“Absolutely.” She gave me a sad smile. “He’s the worst. But not all men are like Peter.”

“I know that. I’m not saying no to these guys because I’m scared they’ll turn out like Peter. I’m just not interested in any of them.”

Emily pouted. “I don’t want you to be alone in the city. Now that I’m getting married, things are going to change.”

I sighed, taking a seat on the end of my bed. “I appreciate that you’re worried, but I’m fine. Really.”

“No, you’re not. You’re living in our crappy old apartment by yourself. All you do is work, which I could understand if you loved your job, but you’re miserable. You don’t even have other friends.”

I did have other friends. They just didn’t run in the same circle as Emily, therefore, to her, they didn’t count.

But she wasn’t wrong about my job. I worked long hours, my boss was a complete and total asshole, and the idea of forensic photography was a lot more appealing than the reality.

In the beginning, it had been a thrill. But there were only so many crime scenes a person could study without getting desensitized. At least for me. My faith in humanity was wavering. It was time to make a change before I resented my camera.

“I don’t need a boyfriend, Em.” What I needed was to come home to Montana.

“One date,” she pleaded. “Go on one date just to get back out there after Peter. If not with Jake, then someone else. What about Harry? Or Steven?”

“No, thanks.” They were both versions of Jake but with brown hair.

“Richard? Samuel?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

She huffed. “It feels like you’re saying no just to prove a point.”

“I’m saying no because I don’t want to date Harry or Steven or Richard or Samuel or Jake. I don’t want to date anyone in the city.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m leaving,” I blurted before I could stop myself.

Emily’s eyes blew wide. “W-what?”

Shit. Well, it was too late to take it back now. Besides, this conversation was inevitable. And if it meant she’d stop shoving Luca’s friends at me, maybe we’d both have a better time at her wedding.

“After the exhibition is over, I’m moving home.”

She stared at me, her expression morphing from shock to betrayal. “How long have you been planning this?”

I shrugged. “A little while. After Peter, I started to think about what I really want for my life. I love the city, but it’s time for a change. I miss home.”

My exhibition this fall would be my farewell to the city. I was planning to fill the gallery with my favorite photographs from the eight years I’d spent in New York. Some, I’d sold before at the gallery. But most were shots I’d been collecting and saving for the past year. Photos I’d taken around different neighborhoods. Pictures to remind me that there was still good in this world.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The corners of Emily’s mouth turned down. “Are you serious?”

“You know I never planned to stay there forever.”

“I thought you changed your mind. I can’t believe you’re leaving me.”

“Emily.” I stood and closed the gap between us. “You’ll always be my best friend, no matter where I live.”