Cheryl
It was finally time to go home.
Reuben and I talked yesterday. We didn’t exactly end things, but we didn’t make anything official either. We both knew the distance would be brutal, and we didn’t want to waste each other’s time. He assured me that things would be fine.
I wanted to believe him.
Until he found out the truth—that Mr. Han wasn’t my foster dad. He was my husband.
I still can’t forget the look on his face. The way his eyes had widened in shock, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying to find the right words but couldn’t.
It was a mess.
I don’t blame him. I should’ve told him sooner. But it’s too late now.
All I can do is leave Boston behind. Return to Mr. Han like the past three months didn’t happen. Like I didn’t spend my days laughing with someone else,
