“We can still come down,” he said.
“No, please don’t,” I answered.
“Savannah . . .”
“I need time alone. To process everything.”
I expected him to say more. That he wasn’t surprised. That he’d never trusted Ryan. That he hoped I’d find someone more down-to-earth. That it was better it happened now instead of after we married.
But he didn’t say any of those things. Instead he said, “I’m so sorry, baby. I really am.”
“Thanks. I’ll call in a few days.”
“All right,” he said. “Talk to you then.”
After I hung up, I started texting guests I had numbers for and tracking down contact information for the rest. It was a long, tedious process, something I knew Mom would have helped me with if she were alive. Although, it registered—again—that I wouldn’t have ever met Ryan if Mom had lived.
A call came through during the middle of it all, but I didn’t answer. When I listened to the voicemail, it was Joy, saying how concerned she was for me, and then asking all of the questions Dad hadn’t thought to ask. Did I need money? Did I have anyone to talk to? She asked if I had a friend staying with me or anyone to help notify the guests, that sort of thing. She ended her message with an invitation: Did I want to come up to their place for a few days to get away from it all?
I fought back tears as I listened to her kind words, but I wouldn’t call her back. She had a cell phone, so I sent her a text assuring her I was all right and that I didn’t need financial help. Any extra money they had was in their savings, which they hoped to use for an acreage of their own.
I finally made it through my list, trying to imagine Ryan doing the same. Maybe Amber was helping him. The thought sent another wave of nausea through me. I poured myself another cup of coffee and headed into my bedroom. My dress, wrapped in plastic, hung on the outside of my closet door. I had the urge to hurl my full cup at it, but I didn’t have the energy to clean up the mess.
What to do now? I’d sent my boss a text saying the wedding was off. But there was no way I was going into the office. Maybe I’d spend the week searching for other jobs as far away from the Bay Area as possible. New York. Philadelphia. Boston. Miami. Atlanta.
But definitely not Washington, DC.
My phone dinged again as I stared at my dress. It had been buzzing all afternoon with return texts.
I’m so sorry!
Better now than later!
What happened??!!!
I’d checked the phone each time it dinged, half hoping it was Ryan saying it had all been a big mistake. That he’d had a bad week at work. That he’d had a reaction to a medication. That Amber had temporarily hypnotized him.
But when a text came through from Nita, I knew it was all over. I just got off the phone with Ryan. Savannah, I’m so sorry. I can only guess how this must be for you. It seems so out of character for him. I’m not sure if it would help you to speak with me. If it would, please call. I’d like to do whatever I can to help you through this.
I knew I couldn’t call her without sobbing. She was a sweetheart who led a Bible study for new moms and still volunteered at the elementary school Ryan had attended.
I texted her back, thanking her for her kind message and assuring her I’d call sometime in the future. She responded with a broken heart emoji, and then that was all. But she’d reached out, and I appreciated that. I also appreciated that Ryan had been honest with her that it was his idea to call off the wedding.
A few minutes later, my phone dinged again. My boss. Mr. William Hayes. Sorry to hear that. I need you in the office tomorrow. It’s urgent.
I stared at the text. How could I answer? I finally settled on, Sorry, I’m in no shape to come in.
His reply arrived immediately. Well, get in shape or lose your job.
Pardon?
No excuses, he texted back. This is an emergency.
My vacation was approved, I texted back.
I just officially unapproved it. We’re in the middle of a fiscal emergency. Be in the office tomorrow.
I began to pace but lost my balance and grabbed the back of the couch to steady myself. I wouldn’t text him back. I couldn’t go to work tomorrow. I couldn’t stay in the Bay Area at all. I had to leave.
But I couldn’t go to Dad’s. Seeing his happy life with Joy and Karlie wasn’t what I wanted.
Where could I go?
My eyes fell to the blue afghan inches from my hand. How many times had Mammi Mast told me I was always welcome, no matter what? She still told me that in her letters and phone calls, without fail. Nappanee, Indiana, might be the end of the world to some people, but to me, it always felt like home.
Or, at the least, it would be the perfect place to escape until I could find a new job as far away from San Francisco—and Ryan Woodward—as possible.
CHAPTER 2
I flew out of San Francisco International Airport four days later with a one-way ticket to South Bend, Indiana, and one bag. I’d put everything else into storage in Oakland, including my engagement ring. I’d wanted to throw it into the Bay but talked myself out of it, deciding if I still felt the urge when I returned, I’d do it then. I’d have to come back to sort through everything, but for now, it was all out of sight and out of mind. The apartment was empty and cleaned. All I needed to do was
