Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
“Oh, Chloe,” scoffed her mother. “That’s not true.”
“Yes it is. Own it. Just own it. Stop pretending to support my independence. You want me to depend on you. That’s how it has always been.”
Ice cubes clinked into a glass. “You were never this negative in the past. It’s that man having this effect on you, Chloe.”
It took the world’s greatest effort to keep her voice even. “Don’t talk about Sig like that.” She thought of him packing memorabilia in his apartment and her throat grew crowded. “You have no idea what he’s done, what he’s sacrificed so I can learn to be on my own.”
Several ticks passed. “Careful, Chloe. You’re letting your feelings for him show.”
Chloe’s skin turned into a layer of ice. Sofia knew. Her mother knew she was in love with Sig. For how long? How could she know and not say anything?
“Come home now, Chloe, and we’ll forget any of it ever happened. Preferably before any more articles find their way online, hmm?”
A part of Chloe really wanted to run home in that moment. Despite her mother’s toxicity. Despite the resolutions she’d made this morning. She wanted to go back to Darien, put her blinders back on, and pretend she’d been studying in France for six months, instead of dwelling three hours south. But her new backbone wouldn’t let her do it, nor would the heart that had grown ten sizes thanks to the love Sig had filled it with. “I’m never coming home, Mother. Not now. Not ever. I’d rather struggle with my own decisions than have someone else make them for me. Goodbye.”
A FEW MINUTES later, Chloe stood in front of a very taken aback doorman who appeared more inclined to call the police than buzz Grace’s intercom. And rightly so, because she couldn’t imagine how she must look. Tearstained and exhausted and heartsick. A wreck with a bulldog.
“Is Ms. Shen expecting you?”
“Not exactly, but if you could just ring her and give her my name—”
The doorman cut her off by shaking his head. “She has asked me not to disturb her with any guests, because she’s rehearsing.”
“I respect that. I do.”
“Have you tried calling her?” He mimicked a phone call.
Chloe had considered that. However, the last time she’d spoken to Grace, her mentor had hung up on her, so she’d figured an in-person approach was the best bet.
“I need to speak with her face-to-face.” Her voice was beginning to split, the feeling of Sig’s arms and the sound of his even breathing, layered beneath an announcer’s voice selling silk makeup bags was playing on a loop in her head, choking her up. “It’s complicated.”
Sympathy rolled across his face. “Do you . . . maybe need a drink of water?”
“Do I look that bad?”
“Yes.”
The culmination of emotion wrought by the last few hours resulted in Chloe grabbing the poor man’s arm. What did she have to lose? “Please, I’ve just sent the love of my life off to the airport with no idea that I’m breaking things off. For his own good and mine, but I feel like a ghost, you know?” The inhale that followed felt like torture. “And I just need a break. A tiny break. Please.”
The doorman hedged.
She could already hear him letting her down gently.
Thankfully, the elevator doors chose that moment to open and reveal Grace in a matching purple yoga outfit, a Stanley cup, and sunglasses that looked more like goggles.
She stopped short upon seeing Chloe. “Oh fuck. Seriously? I have the worst timing.” Her head dropped back on her shoulders. “You better not be here to return the dog.”
“What? No. I love him.”
“Well. Your taste in men is highly questionable. We’ve established that.”
A defensive shriek built in Chloe’s chest, but she kept it at bay, because losing her cool wouldn’t serve anyone. Not her and not Sig. “Can we talk privately?”
“Why? I’m not changing my mind.”
Chloe wasn’t sure how much more dread she could handle in a single day. “That thing you read about . . .” She glanced at the doorman with a swallow, grateful when he took a hint and whistled his way out onto the sidewalk. “I’m not going to lie, there was something there, but it’s over now. It’s over. Okay?” Oh God. Saying those words out loud made her legs want to collapse. “Our parents are getting married in two months. Technically, we haven’t done anything wrong, but like I said . . . it’s over. And you know what? I love him. I love him and I’m giving him up so he can have hockey. So I can have the harp. And if you think I was good before, just wait until you hear me with a broken heart, okay? Because I’m going to fucking shred and you’re not going to get any credit when I waltz into that symphony and take your spot. That’s what I’ll do. Because people are going to pay money to see a child prodigy. That was always going to be true. But I want to be extraordinary. I better be fucking extraordinary if I’m giving him up for this. Are you going to help me get there or not? Because I’ll play until my fingers bleed. I’ll play until they are numb. Don’t drop me, Grace. I’m here to work.”