Page 75 of True Blue

Love isn’t enough to sustain this.

I’ve worked too hard, I’ve sacrificed too much, to let one person ruin me.

Slipping from his arms, I cross to my backpack and shoes, sliding my feet into my sneakers. I pull my Northwestern hoodie over my head, checking to make sure I have all of my things. Then I allow myself one last look at a sleeping Teddy, his big body almost comical in the queen-sized bed and affection punches me right in the throat.

Pathetically, I almost stop right there, especially seeing his face twisted in discomfort in his sleep, his arms stretched out like he’s reaching for me.

I walk out of the bedroom.

Tiptoeing down the stairs, I just make it to the front door and click the deadbolt open when I hear her voice behind me.

“You were never good for him. I’m just glad you finally see that now.”

My back tenses, and I turn, seeing Dawn standing in the doorway of the dining room in her robe, her chin tilted, her face victorious. It is infuriating that even now, all she cares about is winning some imaginary competition against me.

I sigh. “Dawn…”

“Yes, Cindy?”

I can’t help it—I snort.

Even now, even in her victory, she still can’t resist a cheap shot. My reaction clearly isn’t the one she wants, because her smile slips a fraction.

I look at this woman, whose life is measured in things, in fancy plates and dresses and a perfect appearance. She lives off compliments from her friends and sisters, as if that is the only thing that nourishes her.

Married to a man who doesn’t love her, barely even tolerates her. Two amazing daughters who moved as far away from her as possible.

A son she uses for all her emotional needs.

I look around at this house, with its expensive and lifeless decorations, perfect family pictures lining the walls, not a molecule of dust or chipped paint in sight, and I realize how fucking empty her life is.

How empty she is.

How this is all just a veneer, because from the outside looking in, you wouldn’t see the truth—that Dawn Williams is a shell who shrank herself down to nothing and called it victory. She has nothing but this, and she’ll only ever have this.

“I feel sorry for you,” I tell her, my voice dripping with pity.

The smile drops from Dawn’s face in an instant.

I don’t need to hear another word. I don’t need anything from her or this family ever again.

Turning, I sling my backpack over my shoulder and walk out of the house without another word. I toss my bag into the passenger seat of my car, my eyes finding the window of Teddy’s bedroom, knowing he’s still sound asleep.

I briefly wonder when he’ll find out that I’m gone, and then I realize I don’t care.

Starting my car, I try to think of where to go first. The condo, I guess, to grab my suitcases. The rest of my things are already en route to New Jersey, where they’ll stay in storage until I’m back from Europe.

Ellie’s things are in there for the house, and I’m keeping them. She gave them to me for Cape May. That was the deal.

Where the hell am I going to stay until my flight to London? A hotel, I guess. Or maybe I can move my ticket up and fly out sooner, but then what do I do about the hotels? They’re already booked and nonrefundable.

The questions make my head spin, so I force myself to focus on one thing at a time.

Get my suitcases from Teddy’s condo, untangle myself from him for good, and then go from there. I have plenty of money in my bank account, and the whole world is at my fingertips. I’m not beholden to anyone anymore.

It’s terrifying.

And freeing.