Travis

by Mia Sheridan

California. Of course. It was where all the nuts came from.

“Oh my God!” I said, gasping and then laughing. “You found them? You found them?” “Yes!” he called, his head back in the cruiser as he removed another plant, setting it next to the first one. “Hurry! They might only have minutes left.”

This is the cutest thing ever

“Look at me adoringly, Haven.” “What?” “Look at me like I’m the only man here at this festival.”

“Maybe the terrible truth about love is that when it’s gone, it leaves a hole in your heart so big it feels like nothing will ever fill it.

Time slowed, everything fading except for her. She turned her head very slightly, and in my mind’s eye, a dock that overlooked the water appeared beneath her feet, a house with a porch shining in the sunlight, rising above the trees behind her. I swallowed. It was so clear.

She gave me a searching look. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Well, I’d live. Apparently. I nodded. Yes. No. I don’t know. What I did know—suddenly and unmistakably—was that she was capable of shattering my heart. And if she was going to, all I could do was let her.