Page 24 of Lonely Hearts Day

“I don’t get why you’re just giving up so fast,” I said. “Don’t you want to fight for this? You love each other.”

“Honey,” Dad said. “You have no idea how long we’ve been fighting for this. We’re tired and we deserve to be happy. We’ve waited until you were all grown.”

“I’m not all grown,” I said. They may have acted like that sometimes, but I was still here. They hadn’t finished their job yet.

“You know what I mean,” he said. “And because we respect each other we’re going to see if being apart is better or worse.”

“It will be worse,” I said, wondering why my sisters were so quiet in all this. How long had they known?

Ava reached out and placed her hand on mine and I yanked it away.

Mom stood and took a step toward me, offering me a sympathetic head tilt. “I guess we can embrace your version of Valentine’s Day.”

“Don’t.” I flew to my feet. “This isn’t a day for you.”

She reached her hand out, taking another step closer.

“No, I don’t want comfort. Comfort each other.” I pointed between her and Dad. “Not me. This isn’t over.” With those words, I fled from the living room, down the hall and to my bedroom where I shut my door and pressed my back against it.

Jack looked up from where he sat on my bed.

“No, no, no, no,” I muttered.

“Scarlett,” Jack said. He was in front of me before I uttered another word. He opened his arms and I stared at them, not wanting to accept comfort when everything was going to be fine. This had to be fine. He pulled on my crossed arms, bringing me against his chest and wrapping me up.

“I’m so sorry,” he said against my temple, holding me tight. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“This is what happens when people only celebrate love once a year. It dies a slow death.”

“Who needs love?” Jack said.

I choked on a sob I wasn’t letting out. “Love sucks.”

“Come here.” He led me to my bed where he pulled back the comforter and tucked me beneath it.

“Are you leaving?” I whispered.

He shook his head and climbed into bed beside me, pulling my back up against his front. We lay that way for a long time. If it meant I never had to leave this room again, face the reality of what had happened outside this door, I would lie this way forever.

“They’ll be fine,” I eventually said. My voice sounded flat, emotionless. “It’s just a separation.A trial period. They’ll see.”

“Remember that time we rode our bikes out behind the Edwardsons’ farm and we named all the cows?” Jack said, his voice soft in my ear.

I nodded.

“And you said your dream job was a farmer so you could wear overalls all day and ride in tractors?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Is that still your dream job?”

“Are you trying to get my mind off what just happened?”

“Yes,” he said. “But also, I realized earlier, when you were surprised that I could whistle, that some things we know about each other are frozen in time. That we’ve grown and changed, like everyone does, but it has happened so subtly that maybe we haven’t even recognized some of those things. And that got me thinking, that the last I knew, you wanted to be a farmer.”

I knew he was trying to say something about my parents in his summary of us, but I didn’t want to hear it. “Your whistle was very impressive,” I said, gripping his forearm that was wrapped snuggly around my waist. “How did you learn that?”

“YouTube,” he said.