“And was it all bad, or did you think about the good stuff too?”
“Both. What about you? Wait, never mind.” We both knew what his answer would be. It was no secret how much he had hated me just two days ago.
“That’s the kicker. I wanted to hate you, and at times I did, but there was always something inside me fighting for you. I don’t know if that makes any sense. You know how I said I ended a relationship recently?”
I nodded.
“Well, I lied when I said it was commitment issues. The more accurate description would be she wasn’t you. Despite loathing you at times, I couldn’t help comparing every damn woman I’ve dated the last two years to you. Now that I have you in my arms, I’m positive that’s where you’re supposed to be.”
I digested his words before accepting them. I was no different. Yes, we had ripped each other’s hearts out, but I could never get past the good times we’d shared. “How can this even work, though?” I asked. “I leave in four days. I have a life back home that I can’t just walk away from,” I stated, even though a persistent little voice in the back of my head told me I could if I wanted to.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. I’m not going to ask you to give everything up for me again,” he replied, kissing the back of my neck.
The morning melted away as we remained in bed, wrapped together. We eventually fell back asleep for a while in the afternoon before waking and making love again. It was as if our bodies knew we were on borrowed time and they were trying to get their fill. By evening we were both hungry enough to venture out for real food. We hit one of my favorite cafés from college life before strolling along Puget Sound, talking the entire time. It was amazing how quickly we fell back to our old patterns. Two years of maturity had us talking about different issues than what was relevant back then. Adulthood and responsibilities had a way of making a person look at certain issues differently. Suddenly jobs with insurance and how much we would have to pay in taxes made us wish we could run back home. I was thrilled to learn that Justin had proven his father wrong and not only was making a living off his art, but found it profitable.
“I bet that irks the shit out of him,” I commented as we headed back to my hotel.
He shrugged. “He’s pretty much MIA now. Ever since Mom got remarried we don’t see a whole lot of him.”
Justin tried to hide it, but I could tell it bothered him. His father might be a prick, but he was still his dad. “Maybe one of these days he’ll come around,” I said.
“I won’t be holding my breath. Besides, it’s not like I hold the market on bad fathers.”
“True. He could be a complete absentee like mine. It’s been years since Mom and I have heard from him.”
“His loss,” Justin reassured me, patting my hand.
Like him, I shrugged with indifference. I’d given up on having a father figure in my life years ago when the letters I had sent begging him to come to my eighth birthday party went unanswered. After that, I pretty much crossed him off my list. I hardly remembered him enough to miss him anyway.
I changed the subject as we were pulling into the parking lot of my hotel. Justin followed me up to my room. That became our routine during the next few days. We’d go to bed together each night and spend the days rediscovering the city. As my time in Seattle ticked by, I began preparing myself for the inevitable heartache of leaving. We spent Friday with Melissa and Rob on a boat the guys had rented for the day. Saturday we hung with Justin’s family, and by Sunday, I was sick at the idea that I’d be leaving the next morning. I made a spur-of-the-moment decision when Justin was in the shower to surprise him and change my flight to Wednesday morning. I figured I could leave before he had to start his new job.
Justin was thrilled that we had two bonus days together and we decided to keep it secret so the two days could be all ours. Feeling like we had been given a gift, we celebrated by staying in bed all day Sunday. We felt as if we’d been given a stay of execution.
• • •
Justin was still sleeping when I woke before dawn on Monday morning. I studied his features in the dim light. He looked younger and more relaxed, like the boy he was two years ago. The love I felt for that boy had been buried so deeply below the hurt that I thought it was gone. In two days, I would be leaving him again and I was scared of the pain that would come along with it. I knew there was a way to avoid it, I just didn’t know if I was brave enough to make that decision.
Deciding to let him sleep, I climbed quietly from the bed and snuck into the bathroom to shower. Steam was just beginning to fill the small room when I heard the door open. Seconds later, Justin joined me, and neither of us spoke as he pulled me into his arms, covering my mouth with his. We made love under the hot water cascading down our bodies. It felt bittersweet—like a good-bye. I knew Justin wanted me to stay, but he would not pressure me, not the way things ended before. He would let me go if that was the decision I made.
Over the next two days, neither of us brought up the subject of me staying. Instead, Justin made it his goal to take me to all of our old favorite haunts in Seattle. I chuckled as we sipped coffee at the café on campus where we had first met and he reminded me of how snotty I had been.
“That’s because you thought you were God’s gift to women,” I said, defending myself between giggles.
“What do you mean, thought?” he teased, winking at me. My stomach fluttered. Even after two years, he couldn’t help being a flirt.
“Ha, we better slide over a second table so your ego has a place to sit.”
“Admit it. You wanted me. Even at that moment,” he said, pulling me in close for a kiss.
“More than I was willing to admit,” I finally confessed.
“I knew it,” he crowed, pumping his fist in the air.
“Oh lord. Don’t make me regret telling you that.”
“I’ll tell you a secret,” he said, slinging his arm across my shoulders as we strolled away from the café. He leaned in and placed his lips close to my ear. “I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen when you gave me a piece of your mind that day. I fell for you hook, line, and sinker. I had to force myself not to follow you like a lovesick puppy when you stomped away.” His words made my heart clench.
“That’s just because you wanted to get in my pants,” I said, keeping the conversation playful. I couldn’t afford to let myself dwell on our impending separation.
“Well, that too,” he laughed, placing a soft kiss on my temple.
I tried laughing with him, but it was a forced effort.
We kept things light as we soaked up the last of our remaining time together. I could tell it was difficult for us both when Wednesday showed up like an unwanted bill that was due immediately.
Justin drove me to the airport that morning. We could try to act differently, but the mood was somber. I stared blindly out the window, not paying attention to the passing landscape.
My heart felt like a brick with each mile. I had no idea how I could walk away from him again. We were both silent as he pulled his jeep into the parking garage and unloaded my bags. I gripped his free hand as we walked inside, not ready to let go.
Eventually, we hit the security checkpoint and he could no longer accompany me.
“I’ll call you tonight,” he said, cupping my face.
I nodded as my eyes began to well up. I felt like I needed to say something more
“I’m here—whatever you decide,” he said reassuringly, pulling me into his arms. It was as if he could read my thoughts.
“I’ll never regret this week,” I murmured, burying my head in his chest.
“Neither will I,” he answered, stroking my back.
Unable to stand the pain any longer, I tipped my head back and captured his lips before turning and walking away. I told myself I wouldn’t look back. That it would only make it hurt more, but I couldn’t help myself. He was standing off to the side, watching me. It threatened to bring me to my knees, but I blew him a kiss. With each step after that, I had to fight the urge to turn and run back to him. This was the second time I’d walked away from him and the finality of it was crushing.
35.
Present Day
Woodfalls was covered in an unseasonably early blanket of snow when I drove my car down Main Street past my apartment. I was mentally and physically exhausted from my trip and would have liked nothing more than to curl up in a ball on my bed, but I knew Tressa would kill me if I didn’t come by to see her first.
I pulled into her driveway and couldn’t help smiling at the small obscene snowman on the front lawn. The carrot nose had been moved down below his belly, obviously the handiwork of Tressa’s thirteen-year-old brother, Chris, and most likely his partner in crime, John. Putting my car in park, I climbed from my car, smiling again when I noticed the backside of the snowman resembled a nude person.
Without bothering to ring the doorbell, I opened the front door to Tressa’s house.
“Brittni, you’re back,” Stephenie, Tressa’s mom, greeted me, looking up from the blanket she was crocheting.
“I just got in. Is Tressa in her room?”
“Yeah. She missed you while you were gone,” she answered.
I nodded but didn’t answer as I took the stairs two at a time up to Tressa’s room. Without knocking, I pushed open the door.
“Black, I like,” I said, taking in her recently dyed hair.
“I felt like shaking things up. You know, get some tongues wagging here in Deadfalls,” she said in her typical sarcastic tone. “I thought you were coming home Sunday,” she added, opening the bottle of black nail polish that was lying next to her knee.
“I missed you too, sugar lips,” I answered, picking up a bottle of purple polish.
“Aww, shucks, are we dating?” she asked, batting her thick eyelashes at me. “I’m not sure how I feel about eating peaches.”
“Ew, don’t be crude,” I said, smiling halfheartedly.
“You look like shit. Did Mr. Ass Face show his true colors again?”
“No,” I snipped.
“Holy shit,” she said, knowingly. “I told you he’d win you back. Don’t tell me you’re in love with him again.”
“I’m not in love with him.”
“Right, and I’m Mother Theresa,” Tressa said dismissively.
“Look, I don’t know what I am. I’m still trying to figure things out.”
“Figure out what? Either you’re into him or you’re not.”
I shrugged without saying another word, wishing it was that simple.
We spent the next half hour catching up. She told me about the nightmare date she’d gone on over the weekend. I loved Tressa to death, but her taste in guys was atrocious. Somehow, she was a magnet for assholes. Behind the tough exterior she liked to portray, she had crazy insecurities where guys were concerned. I personally blamed her ex-boyfriend, Jackson. He’d basically stripped away her confidence during the several years they had dated. I was convinced it was his own insecurities that made him feel the need to belittle Tressa. The guy was a total momma’s boy. He made Tressa second-guess her appeal.
Once we had exhausted Tressa’s disastrous date, she tried to bring up Justin again. I brushed off her questions, claiming to be tired as I rose from her bed. Truthfully, it was a subject I had to work out on my own. I knew what the look on her face meant when her eyebrows came together, but she dropped the issue. I threw her a quick kiss good-bye before fleeing from the room.
Five minutes later, I pulled behind Mr. James’s hardware store, where I rented the small apartment above. Hauling my suitcases from the trunk of my car, I trekked through the snow to the wooden staircase. By the time I made it to my one-room flat, I was both physically and mentally exhausted. I dropped onto my pull-out couch that also served as my bed. I couldn’t help thinking how bleak it suddenly seemed. Just a week ago, I was satisfied with my life. I was ready to finish the last of my intern hours so I could officially become a teacher. Now, what I was missing was glaringly obvious.
I decided I’d better call my mom. If word spread—and it would—that I was home and I hadn’t called her, shit would hit the fan.
“Hey, Mom. I just wanted you to know I made it back okay.”
“Oh, Brittni. You should have stopped by.”
“I know, Mom. I’m sorry, but I was too tired.”
“Well, come on over and rest here. You can tell me about your trip, and I’ll make you something to eat.”
“No thanks, Mom. I really am too tired to leave.”
My phone buzzed, indicating I had another call. As I looked at the Caller ID, my first genuine smile of the day spread across my face.
“Hey, Mom, I have to go, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay, honey. Make sure you call me. Bye.”
I tapped the screen to take the incoming call. “Hi,” I answered.
“Hey, you made it back?” Justin asked.
“Yeah, a little while ago. I miss you.” The words slipped out before I could retract them.
“I miss you too, sweet stuff. More than should be humanly possible.”
“What are we going to do?” I asked despairingly.
“We’re going to take it one day at a time. We’ll talk on the phone every day, and in three weeks, when I finish this job, I’ll come see you.”
“You will?” I asked.
“Well, yeah. I mean, I already bought my ticket, if that’s okay?” he admitted hesitantly. “Brittni? Is that cool?” he asked again, breaking the silence when I didn’t respond.
“Heck yeah,” I finally replied, letting him off the hook. “Were you worried there?”
“Yes. Don’t screw with me like that.”
“Sorry. I was just teasing,” I said. For the next hour, we continued chatting about nothing in particular. It was a double-edged sword. I loved hearing his voice, but it made the distance between us even more obvious. He promised to call the next evening before hanging up.
The next day turned out to be a huge bore, since I no longer had classes and wasn’t needed at the school. I drove the few short blocks to Mom’s house for dinner. I was thankful to have something to occupy my time.
“You look rough,” she greeted me as I walked into the kitchen, where she was finishing a pot of chili.
“Gee, thanks, Mom,” I said dryly, grabbing a handful of crackers from the package on the counter.