Page 108 of True Blue

Isigh as I sink into the hot tub, feeling bubbly—from the actual bubbles in the water and the bubbles in the champagne in my hand.

It feels like heaven on aching muscles, and the champagne on my near-empty stomach—the food on the plane wasn’t great, thank God for airport snacks—has me feeling nice and loose. I turned off the bathroom light, so the only glow comes from the lamp next to the bed, shining through the cracked door.

After leaving Teddy, going back to the condo, getting rid of every trace of me from it, leaving behind the drawings and pictures—and shedding some traitorous tears over them because it felt like my heart was tearing in two—I arranged for my car to be shipped to New Jersey in a few weeks, and hopped on a plane to Cape May.

Then I broke my own heart all over again when I met with my realtor, Gina, to back out of the house. I agonized over it the entire flight. When I got to her office, she had assumed I was flying out to finalize the paperwork, but when I explained that I wanted to withdraw, her face shifted immediately into sympathy.

It hurt so bad to give up the house, but I’ve always been pragmatic. Especially with money. I can put the down payment toward rent on a soulless apartment that I don’t need to work on, have more money for Europe, and chip away at my student loan debt. It’s all a net positive.

Then, in a couple of years, I can reevaluate.

Thankfully, Gina understood when I told her I just wouldn’t have the time to give the house the care it deserved, especially since I broke up with the man who was going to do most of the flipping. Teddy had spoken so much about fixing up the house for me while I was at work that I forgot he wouldn’t actually be there to do it.

Because we’re done.

“Just promise me you’ll reach out when you are ready,” Gina said, stressing each word. “And just promise me you won’t rent at Carson Estates. Goddamn slumlords own that building. Let me give you some recommendations…”

I gave her my word, happily accepted her list of trusted apartments, and found one easily the next day. Pulling out the line, Hi, I’m Dr. Miller, I’m here to see the two-bedroom, really gets people moving. Everyone always wants a doctor around.

The apartment I’m renting in Cape May is nice, right near the hospital, where I’ve also visited and met my new coworkers.

I’m used to the Midwest attitude, so the East Coast—kind but not nice—attitude will be an adjustment, but nothing I can’t handle. I’ve been dealing with Satan for the last two years. I can handle anything.

I’m just glad I never told Teddy about the house.

I was going to surprise him—let him think we were moving into an apartment, then pull up to the house when we got back from Europe. I kind of liked that Teddy let me lead with those types of things. My control-freak tendencies like keeping an eye on everything.

Or maybe it’s just the fear of having the rug pulled out from underneath me.

Either way, I like planning, which is why I’ve had most of the vacation mapped out since I was seventeen, adding little things here and there over the years. I did get Teddy’s input on certain stops, but he never wanted to change much because he knew how important it was to me.

Every time I opened my mouth to tell him about the house, though, the words got stuck in my throat.

Because it was just more ammunition. One more good thing that Dawn could ruin. She was already ruining Europe, my relationship, and the excitement over the move. The house would just be another thing tainted.

It just wasn’t meant to be.

Teddy and the house.

But I’ll be fucking damned if they take this vacation too—the trip I’ve been dreaming about for years, sometimes the only thing that got me through labs, boards, impossible professors, and patients’ families telling me it should be me and not their loved one getting the diagnosis, like I personally put the cancer in their bodies.

This vacation is mine.

Not Teddy’s. Not his family’s.

Mine.

And I’m done with him. His family. All the bullshit I let myself tolerate for far too long.

Distance gives you perspective, and my perspective is ugly. Not just of Teddy, but of myself for the past seven months. I stayed too long. I can see now I should have left after Easter, but Teddy was…

God, he was everything to me.

My heart told me to hold on, even while my brain was calling time of death on the relationship. Funny how it was around the same time Ellie passed away.

I’ve flown before, by myself and with Teddy, but that was always economy—our shoulders smashed together, packed in like sardines. Now, I’m going to fucking treat myself.

I flew first class and had champagne with strawberries on the flight. Upgraded suite at the hotel. King-sized bed. Beautiful view of the London skyline.