Page 129 of Worth the Risk

“A what? Luke, what are you talking about?”

“She had a Minecraft figure made to look just like me. A Steve Block, but I guess it’s a Luke Block.” His laughter makes me hurt even more. “It even has a shirt like my favorite one.”

She left me.

“There’s something in here with your name on it, Dad. Do you want it?”

She left us.

I grab the letter from Luke more forcefully than I should have, but I don’t think twice before tearing it open to find her handwriting.

Grayson,

I wasn’t sure how else to leave, but I knew I couldn’t go without saying goodbye. I figured this might be the best way since we all but said goodbye the other night at the hangar.

Walking away is probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, but I know it’s probably for the best. You aren’t ready to forget your past, and I’m not willing to give up my future on the chance that you might. You aren’t ready to make that choice and choose me. We were good together, though, weren’t we?

I learned so many things about myself in the time I spent with you, and I’ve left a changed person. For that, I owe you.

Thank you for the time we shared. For the memories we made. For the friendship you gave me even though I know sometimes you looked at me and saw someone else.

And thank you for Luke. He’s one hell of a kid and deserves the world, just like his dad does.

I meant what I said the other night. All of it. You are worthy of love. You are worthy of a life with a woman who can make you laugh every day and who never reminds you of her. She’ll be a lucky woman when you find her. Make sure to take the risk.

Please take care of yourself.

Love,

Sidney

I stare at the letter. At her penmanship, which is curvy and perfect just like her. I read it over again and have to turn my back to Luke so he doesn’t see what it looks like for a woman to bring a man to his knees like Sidney just did.

Holy shit. She really left.

My first night back in my penthouse, and it feels nothing like when I left it.

It’s cold.

It’s empty.

I curl my knees up into Grayson’s shirt that I took with me, and I cry myself to sleep.

Him texting me was inevitable, but when he finally does three days later, it’s crippling.

Grayson: You left without saying goodbye.

I stare at his text for the longest time, trying to figure out how to take it. Is he angry? Is he surprised? Is he disbelieving?

Me: I thought we had already said goodbye.

Grayson: You didn’t even tell me you were leaving early . . . but you told Luke?

Me: I didn’t want him to think I abandoned him. That was very important to me. And you? It was just easier this way.

Grayson: Easier for who?

Me: You. Me. I don’t really know anymore.