Was it dramatic? Probably to the guy picking his nose beside me at the stoplight, but damn, leaving Bowen in Charlotte was even harder than the first time.
When I’d moved to Savannah, I’d had a healthy dose of anger and betrayal fueling my departure. This time, the drive away was slightly harder to emotionally define. I’d been happy in Bowen’s arms. Truly, deeply happy. The sex was great—don’t get me wrong. But it was more than that. Not just because he was ridiculous in all the best ways that complemented my ridiculousness—like peanut-free butter and jelly. With Bowen that weekend, I’d found a sense of peace and belonging I’d never felt before.
The turmoil of letting go of something that had seemed so right was seriously doing my head in.
“I’m tired, Jenna.”
Pursing her lips, she slanted her head. “Don’t leave me hanging long. I don’t like this defeated look on your face right now.” She lifted her arm in a bicep curl. “Fuck this Bowen guy. We are women, hear us roar, am I right?”
“Yeah. Totally.” I smiled and robotically parroted, “Rawr.”
She glared at me. “Okay, that was depressing. There’s no way a man did anything to you that was any good if you came home roaring like that.”
“Oh no, it was good.” I laughed. “I’ll try it again after I take the world’s longest nap. Wake me up if you don’t hear from me by next month.”
“That I can do. And if you need anything, just remember I’ve been known to give a good ‘men suck’ speech a time or two.”
“I’ll keep it in mind. Thanks again for watching my guy.” I nuzzled Sugar on the top of his head. “I forgot to stop for cash, so I’ll Venmo you some money later.”
“Girl, get out of here with that shit. You’re not paying me to hang out with Savannah’s best wingman. Besides, Sugar and I snuck over to your place earlier to get one of his sweaters and I stole some of your food. I had to cook it on my own, so it wasn’t quite the same, but it hit the spot. I also watered one of your plants.”
My eyes flashed wide as panic struck me. “The cactus?”
Yeah, I’d saved Quincy the Cactus. He was surprisingly resilient after he’d shattered against the door the day I’d thrown him at Bowen. It was stupid because every time I walked past the cactus, all I could think about was when Bowen had given him to me as he’d lied about the maze he’d been trapped in after losing his fiancée, Sally.
I’d left a lot of my plants behind with Aaron. Sent some to Miami with Dad and Crystal Dawn. I’d even dropped a few off on Linda’s front porch on my way out of town. She was a mom; surely she could take care of my babies. I hadn’t had the space for all of them when I’d loaded up my car and moved within the week.
But Quincy had come with me. Margret Monstera and my Swiss cheese plant, Meredith. Basically everything he’d given me.
They were all reminders of Bowen, and while it probably made me a masochist to keep them around, I couldn’t stand the idea of leaving them behind. I hadn’t left Bowen because I didn’t love him. I cherished our time together, even when the memories physically pained me.
Surprised by my outburst, she quirked an eyebrow. “Uhhh, I may not be Suzie Greenthumb, but even I know not to water a cactus.”
Oh, thank God. I blew out a ragged exhale. “Which one, then?”
“The one on your end table. I know. I know. You told me not to touch them, but he was all droopy and parched. You should have seen how fast he absorbed the water.”
I winced, mentally planning a funeral for my Dragon Jade, Drogo. He was an air plant who absorbed most of his water from humidity through the leaves.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“No prob.” She smiled and then ruffled the top of Sugar’s head. “Get some rest.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told her, walking the ten steps back to my door.
I set Sugar on his feet and bypassed my suitcase just inside the apartment. Unpacking my baggage, both literally and figuratively, could wait for a while. When I didn’t hear Sugar trotting behind me, I stopped in the hallway.
“Come on, buddy.”
He ignored me, standing on his hind legs, sniffing my suitcase like a bloodhound, his ears perked, tail wagging.
Oh, God. He smelled Bowen. I didn’t have canine senses, but if I closed my eyes, I could smell him too.
And feel the scruff of his beard against my cheek.
Hear the sound of his laugh.
See his brilliant smile, so full of love, aimed at me.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“He’s not in there, baby.” I walked back over to my bag and flipped it on its side. After sliding the zipper open, I reached into the top and retrieved the T-shirt of his I’d stolen on my way out. It was only a plain white undershirt, but when I’d seen it strewn haphazardly on the floor, I had known without a shadow of a doubt it was coming home with me.
