“Fair enough. But what about my extra time?” He pouted.

I leaned back against the wall and hid my hands behind me. “I’m sorry.”

Truth was I was avoiding him. I didn’t know how I would’ve reacted had I been at the graduation ceremony. I hated good-byes. So much so that I did everything I could just to avoid farewells. Luckily for me, I’d had years to get used to the idea of leaving everyone. When the kids had been heading off for school, I had told them I’d see them soon. Dean and Mary had taken me out to lunch, and then I’d gone to work. Mary had cried when she’d gotten in their car. I knew because I’d watched her. Letting them go actually wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it would be, especially since I’d promised Harry I’d keep it touch, and I had every intention of keeping that promise. I hadn’t said how often I’d contact them, but it would be often enough that they would know I was healthy.

Now came the hardest part of all: saying good-bye to Blake.

“We gotta be quick,” Josh interrupted my thoughts.

“We got you something. A good-bye gift, I guess.”

My heart sank. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Yeah, well . . .” He shrugged. “Something to remember us by.”

Josh held out something long and flat, wrapped in newspaper. I already knew what it was, without having to look. Stepping forward, I took it from his hands.

He shoved my shoulder. “Open it.”

Blake’s low chuckle caused the ache in my chest to tighten. He shoved my other shoulder. “Yeah, open it.”

Josh laughed, shoving me again. “Yeah, open it.”

I smiled and shook my head. “What is wrong with you guys?”

“Just do it,” Blake said, his voice low, serious.

I made a show of ripping the newspaper off and being surprised by the skateboard hidden underneath. “This is amazing!”

The storeroom door opened, and Trent, who had been hired to take my place stepped out. “It’s getting busy. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

“Alright, fucktard. Calm your tits,” Josh yelled.

Trent went back inside without another word.

I laughed. “A little harsh?”

Josh shook his head. “I’ve hated that asshole ever since I went to school with him.”

My eyebrows pinched, and I looked up at Blake. “He goes to our school?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Chloe, you’ve met him! How do you not know these things?”

I shrugged.

Then I was engulfed in Josh’s arms. “I know you didn’t want good-byes,” he whispered in my ear. “So I’m not going to say it. I’m just going to say that I’m forever thankful I met you. And I’ll remember you always, Chloe.” He released his hold and took a step back.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, containing the sob that was bursting to escape. I had held it back the entire day. I hadn’t cried with the kids, or with Mary and Dean. But I was on the edge now, and I didn’t want Blake to be the one to see it.

Josh nodded once, and then he was gone.

“It’s got your name on it,” Blake mumbled.

“What?”

“The board. Underneath. It has your name.”

I looked down at the board in my hands as I processed what he’d said. Then I flipped it over. Not Abby, in bright-red letters.

I laughed. “Always with the red,” I thought out loud and looked up at him. “You always write in red. What’s with that?”

He smiled sadly. “It’s you.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” He stepped forward and placed his hand on my waist, pushing me back against the wall.

I set the board down next to me. “What does it mean?”

“Red-letter days. It’s when something unexpectedly phenomenal happens.”

I choked on my sob.

“You’re my unexpectedly phenomenal, Chloe. You’re my red-letter day.”

My head dropped onto his chest, but his fingers laced in my hair, tilting my face up to look him in the eyes, like he’d done so many times before. His gaze roamed my face, searching for something I knew wasn’t there. “It’s still not enough, is it?”

My silence was his answer.

“No good-byes?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No good-byes.”

“Okay,” he whispered, his lips grazing mine. “Then I guess I’m just going to have to kiss you.”

With one hand in my hair and the other gripping my waist, he kissed me.

It could’ve been seconds, minutes, hours—it wasn’t long enough.

When Josh opened the door with a look of regret on his face—and an apology for interrupting us—we knew it was time.

That last kiss was our perfect good-bye.

Blake

I’d been searching for days for the words—something bigger and greater than I love you—and I’d stood there, during our last hours together, with nothing to say. But then she’d asked about the red ink, the red letters, so I’d told her she was my unexpectedly phenomenal.

But it hadn’t been enough.

There’d been no words exchanged after the kiss, just a silent agreement that it had been our good-bye.

I watched the seconds of the clock tick by, waiting for her shift to be over. I was so consumed by the clock on the wall that the ticking of the seconds matched the thumping in my chest. Then Josh nudged me with his elbow. “She’s leaving.”