by Lea Coll
I continued without acknowledging him. “I realized I had no one to count on. I only had myself. I vowed never to put myself in that position again.”
Understanding passed over his face. “It’s good to be careful but it’s more than that, isn’t it?”
A slight tremor ran through me. I hated reliving that night. It always hovered in the periphery, but I rarely allowed myself to think about it fully. It brought back these intense feelings of loneliness.
Henry lifted me into his lap. I snuggled into his heat, relishing in his arms around me.
“I had no one. My parents didn’t come to sit with me in the hospital. That was probably part of the punishment. Their absence compounded everything I was feeling—guilt, shame, and this intense feeling of being alone.”
“I’m sorry. No matter what happened, they should have been by your side.”
“I was cautious from that point on. I knew I only had myself to rely on.”
“You didn’t take any risks after that.”
I nodded against his chest, happy he understood. “Yeah.”
He was quiet for a long time. “It’s hard for you to trust anyone.”
“I guess so.” I hadn’t thought about it that way. I’d just wanted to protect myself. Not ask for too much or get my hopes up.
“You’re a bit closed off.”
“I suppose.” I hadn’t gotten too close to my roommates or any guys I’d dated since college.
“But you’ve opened up to me.” He studied me.
“You’re different. Everything here is different.” I’d gone out of my comfort zone to try new things.
“I’m glad you trusted me to take you on the helicopter ride, snowmobiling, and ice climbing.”
“I loved doing those things with you. They were risky but you were there.” I’d relied on him and it had been okay. He exuded confidence.
“Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. I feel like I understand you better.”
Talking about that night made me feel vulnerable and weak. It was a reminder of how I needed to be strong, to only rely on myself, but here with Henry, I wanted to let go. I wanted to tell him I was considering moving here. I had friends here—and now—Henry. I wanted to put a label on us. I wanted to know what his intentions were. I wanted to say goodbye tomorrow with a promise to see each other again soon. I wanted to leave with the expectation I’d call him when I landed to let him know I arrived safely.
My heart fluttered in my chest, finally free of the cage I’d locked it in when I was younger. I opened my mouth to tell him everything just as he kissed me. He quickly deepened the kiss like everything I’d told him only made him want me more. He showed me with his touch, and his lips, how he felt. The words could wait until morning.
Chapter 22
Henry
* * *
She stood at the door, her luggage at her feet.
It was time—the moment I’d been dreading. We’d had an extra day. It changed everything and at the same time, it changed nothing. I still lived here—she lived in New York. We weren’t inevitable. We were impossible.
Her chest fell and rose rapidly making me wonder if she was trying not to cry. “I don’t want to leave.”
She lifted her eyes to mine. “I know it’s ridiculous. We barely know each other. Yet the last couple of weeks feel like a lifetime.”
Searing pain tore through my chest, making it difficult to draw a deep breath, to do what I needed to do. It was only going to be worse if we dragged this on. We’d gotten extra time and it only made me fall harder.
“There has to be a way for us to be together. We could date long-distance.” Her expression was tentative.
I slowly shook my head. She’d go back to New York, realize what she loved about it, and it would be a slow, gradual drifting away.
She bit her lip. “It would give me time to see if I could get a job here.”
“You work on the stock exchange. You can’t work that job here.” I forced myself to keep my distance from her—not moving closer—mentally pushing away.
“I don’t have to work on the stock exchange. At least not forever.” She took a step closer to me then hesitated as if she wasn’t sure of how I’d react.
I hated that because I wanted her to trust me. “But you love it.”
She tilted her head slightly. “I did. Now I love you.”
Her heartfelt, softly spoken words pierced my heart; pain sliced through my chest. “You can’t make a big career decision—you can’t move across the country for me.”
“Why not? I know what I want, and I want you.”
Where was this confidence coming from, the self-assurance? Like she could see the future and knew the outcome. “You forget I’ve been through this exact situation twice before. It’s why I didn’t want to get involved at all.”
She sighed. “That was different. They didn’t want to try long distance. I do.”
Frustration built up, bubbling over until I thought I’d explode. I pulled off the top, letting everything that had been bothering me over the last few days out, the way she’d infiltrated my life, urged me to consider her ideas, interfered with my family. “You pushed your way into my life, suggesting ways to fix my place. You meddled with my family, giving your opinion on my relationship with Piper. You had no right.”
I punched out each word, trying to ease the pressure in my chest. I avoided looking at the hurt in her eyes. I had to push her away. I couldn’t hope for more only to be crushed when she didn’t want the same thing. No matter how bad it felt when my exes didn’t want to try long distance, I knew it would be worse with Kelsey. I already felt so much more.
She flinched, taking a step back as if my words were physically hurting her.
“You asked Gray if he’d let you publish pictures of his wedding. You refused to listen to me, how private he is, how much he hates that. You just push and push and push.” I ran my fingers through my hair, tugging to feel the sharp pain. I sounded like an asshole, but if I wanted to avoid ever feeling the pain of her rejection, I had to do this.
She lifted her chin, her voice quavering, “So, what? You know the outcome? You know we can’t make it?”
“Long-distance relationships don’t work.” Anticipating her argument, I continued, “I don’t want it to work.”
I couldn’t go through it worried she’d change her mind. Not being able to see her every day, it would be too hard to stay connected. She’d realize everything she was giving up. She’d remember all the reasons why we were impossible.
She deflated; her expression fell. “You don’t want us. You don’t want me.”
I didn’t agree with her because that wasn’t it. I worried that she wouldn’t want me in the end. “I won’t ask you to give up your life or your dreams.”
“You’re not asking me. I want to.” Her voice dropped, her tone lacking her earlier conviction.
My stomach dropped as I realized my efforts were working. “It’s a mistake. You’ll regret it—you’d resent me eventually.”
“Why don’t you let me make those decisions? It’s my life.” She sounded defeated.
I remember what Gray said, you know you’re in love when you’re willing to give up your dreams for the other person. Kelsey was willing to give up hers, but I wasn’t. Until I was willing to give up everything—she wouldn’t be mine. I couldn’t take that chance.
“I thought you were different.”
I am or at least, I was. Before everything changed. Life wasn’t as simple as she was making it. She thought she could just quit her job, move here, and we’d live happily ever after. Life didn’t work that way.
“I told you I wasn’t looking for a relationship. We had the last week and a half.”
“And nothing changed for you during that time?” Her eyes were full of emotion―hurt and regret.
I couldn’t say no but I didn’t want to lead her on. This conversation was impossible. If she kept pressing me, she’d find out I had
changed from this weekend, but not enough to alter who I was at a fundamental level. A guy who didn’t trust that I could hold her interest from halfway across the country. A guy who didn’t feel right asking her to change her dreams but wasn’t strong enough to change my dreams for her.
Finally, I settled on, “We should head to the airport.”
She looked at me for a long moment probably trying to decide if she should push me or let it go. A part of me longed for her to call me out on my shit, to try and convince me I was being irrational. The smarter, more reasonable part of me held on to that feeling I had when Selena and Vanessa rejected me. The side of me that felt I wasn’t good enough or worth waiting for won out.
“I didn’t realize you felt that way. That I was interfering in your life. I thought—It doesn’t matter, I guess.” She winced. Her voice was filled with hurt as her shoulders lowered. She’d given up.
It was what I wanted, but it left a hollow feeling in my chest.
She was quiet all the way to the airport. I tightened my fingers on the steering wheel until my knuckles were white. I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t say anything like I was being an idiot, forget everything I just said. I focused so hard on how I felt when I was hurt before that my feelings got all mixed up. I couldn’t tell if my heart was cracking open from a memory or from the woman sitting next to me. The one who couldn’t stand to look at me, much less speak to me.
As we pulled up to the drop-off area, I said, “This is for the best. Neither of us should be altering our whole lives for someone else after a week and a few days.”
It wasn’t true. It wasn’t even partially true. I wanted to jump all-in, I just wasn’t sure she wouldn’t regret it later.
She turned her head, fury radiating off her body. “I can’t believe you. I don’t even know what to say.”
I pulled up to the curb. Around us, people were getting out of vehicles, grabbing their luggage, and saying goodbye to loved ones before the security officers told them to move along.
She turned in her seat to face me. “I know you said we couldn’t be anything more. That we were just a vacation fling, but I wasn’t in this alone. Things changed at some point before or after the wedding. When we were snowed in…”
“You can’t plan your life around a few days,” I repeated, keeping my gaze on the windshield, her gaze burning into the side of my face. My words sounding harsh over her pleading ones.
Her eyes hardened slightly. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m being naive. But what if you’re making a huge mistake?”
I probably was. “You’ll change your mind when you get home. You’ll remember why you love your job, your city, and your friends.”
“It feels like you’re making this decision for us, for me.”
The security officer made a move toward our car. “I need to move the truck. I’ll get your luggage.”
She met me at the bed of the truck.
I pulled out her suitcases, placing them at her sides. I kept my eyes at a spot over her shoulder. I couldn’t look at her. If I did, I’d crumble under the pressure.
She cupped my cheek. My breath was loud in my head, my resolve faltered. “Look at me.”
I lowered my eyes to hers, my heart thudding painfully in my chest.
Her eyes swam with emotion―heartbreak, longing, hope, and resignation. “I fell in love with you, Henry. Maybe that makes me reckless, an idiot, everything I’ve avoided since I was a teenager, but I did. I don’t regret it because, for the first time, I truly let go. I let myself feel everything. Did you?”
I couldn’t answer her because I had let myself feel everything. I could barely concentrate on her or what she was saying because the pain was consuming.
She went up on tiptoes, kissing my cheek. Then she turned, grabbing her luggage, and walked away. She took my heart with her.
I was rooted to the spot, unable to look away. I forced myself to stay there, watching what I’d done. Either way, she’d be walking away from me today, but now I had nothing to look forward to, no phone calls to let me know she landed, no plans to see each other soon, no sharing of our days. I had nothing.
“Keep moving, sir,” the officer said.
I nodded, the movement jerky, then got into my truck. Everything felt heavy as I pulled away. My brain was disconnected from my body. She told me she loved me, and I retreated. I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d made a terrible mistake.
Was she different? Could we have made it work?
I couldn’t even call Gray because he was flying out for his honeymoon and would be in Hawaii for the next two weeks. Piper was busy covering the barbershop to make their vacation possible. I could go to my parents, but I knew what my mom would say. I was an idiot. I let the best thing that ever happened to me walk away.
Instead, I went home and made sure the lodge was ready for incoming guests. This is what I wanted. I’d better get used to it.
Chapter 23
Kelsey
* * *
Going through security, I was numb. I couldn’t believe he’d pulled away so quickly. How could he dismiss me and the time we spent together? I’d bared my soul to him yesterday, trusting him with my heart. I thought we were on the same page when we weren’t. I was such an idiot because he had told me what the score was in the beginning, and somewhere along the way, I forgot.
I was prepared to give up everything to be with him. He was everything my college self wanted, a man with whom I could be by his side, someone to care for, to spend time with. I thought he felt the same way. He was either the world’s best actor or he really felt nothing for me.
In the end, I was never enough, not for my parents or any of the guys I dated. I trusted people and they hurt me. It was only when I kept myself aloof that I survived unscathed. I’d go back to that way of life. It was lonely, but it was safe. No more risks. No more adventure. No more Henry Rigby or Telluride. No more snow-capped mountains, snowmobiling, or hiking.
I’d visit Elle and Gray eventually. Surely there was a way to avoid Henry, to pretend he hadn’t ripped out my heart.
I had given him my heart only for him to throw it back in my face, reminding me we were nothing. I was that stupid little girl wanting more than she could have, wanting what everyone else already had. Why couldn’t I learn? When tears pricked, I looked out the window. I wouldn’t cry on the plane. I’d wait until I was home alone in my bed, reality pressing down on me.
When we touched down in New York, hours later, I’d almost convinced myself it was better this way. New York was familiar, comforting. I knew what to expect, a satisfying, well-paying job, a promotion I needed to take, acquaintances, and co-workers. Any time my brain reminded me I wasn’t happy with those options, I silenced it. My life was enough because it was all I had, all I’d ever have. Wishing or hoping for more was reckless.
Henry wasn’t the person I thought he was. I had no idea he was harboring resentment over my suggestions. I thought I was helping him but he thought I was interfering in his life. The thought made me feel worse, it kept me from reaching out to him. It erased any hope that he’d change his mind.
When I got home, my roommates were out. There was no note inviting me out or telling me where they were because there never was. We weren’t that close. We merely co-existed. I dropped my suitcases on the floor of my tiny bedroom, shutting the door. I was grateful for this room because I didn’t share it with another person. I slid under the sheets, grabbing on to the sense of independence I usually felt here, but it didn’t come. All I felt was soul-crushing loneliness. My heart felt like it was being squeezed like a car at a junkyard. I felt used, worn out.
I let the feelings wash over me, wave after wave as the first sob fell from my mouth. I’d let go tonight then I’d be okay tomorrow. Each day would get better. I sucked in large breaths between chest-wracking sobs. I placed my pillow over my face to silence the noise in case anyone came home. Henry wasn’t worth this. No one was.
The next morning,
I showered, trying to find ways to soothe my swollen face. I accepted the job offer. I plastered a smile on my face and went to work, giving my two weeks’ notice. This is what I’d wanted for years, a chance at promotion and a higher salary. I registered for the Series 7 test, going through the motions of what I should do.
What I wouldn’t do was call Henry and beg him to change his mind. I was weak in Colorado. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. I was tired of being stomped on when I opened myself up. A small part of me held out hope that I would find someone one day, but the practical side won out, closing myself off from any possibility of getting that close to someone again. Each time, I’d remind myself of how I’d felt in Henry’s condo, on the way to the airport, and last night in my bed.
Even if Elle wasn’t on her honeymoon, I couldn’t talk to her about this. She was his friend. She was having a baby. She didn’t have time or energy for this. I’d pretend it was a fling. It was nothing. By the time she returned from her honeymoon, I would be fine. I’d make sure of it.
Two weeks later, I tried telling myself it didn’t matter he hadn’t called. I hadn’t expected him to anyway. I hadn’t told a soul about what happened, not that anyone asked. They didn’t even remember where I’d gone, assuming I went home to see my family. I let them think that because it was easier. I thought for years it was better to stay closed off from people, now I wondered if this loneliness and separation wasn’t all my fault. Would I have friends if I opened up a bit?
Elle texted while she was at the airport, telling me they had the best time, asking when we could talk. She usually liked video chats, so I’d need to pull myself together. Here, no one asked why I looked down. Elle would sniff out a problem in a heartbeat.
That night when I was home, I called her.
“Hey!” Her face filled the screen. She was glowing with happiness.
“How was your trip?”