I thought about that for a few silent moments. I saw Michael’s face, more familiar and beloved to me than my own. And on that face, I pictured not the tender expressions of love I was accustomed to, but instead pity and regret. My heart broke all over again, and I curled in on myself, unable to breathe for pain.
I could live through my own hurt. It would scar me, change me, but I would survive. What I could not even imagine was the idea of using Michael’s sense of obligation to keep him with me. That would kill me.
The decision, once made, gave me some sense of awful resignation. Now the only question was how to make it happen while still protecting Michael from as much hurt as possible. I could wait for him to go back to college and then call him. That would be easier for me, when he was too far away for me to hear his thoughts or feel his pain, but it seemed cowardly. And I knew I couldn’t get through the next two weeks, pretending that everything was fine, putting on the act of the loving girlfriend, all the time knowing that it was going to end. No, better to face him here...and soon. If I put it off, I’d find a reason not to do it.
I toyed briefly with the idea of calling my friend Rafe and asking him to help me. Rafe, a descendant of one of King’s original families, possessed a gift that allowed him to manipulate minds, make people forget things. I knew if I asked him, he would comply; he was definitely less wary of using his talents than I had ever been. But doing that would take away from what Michael and I had shared. I owed him whatever pain would come to me by doing this, and although it nearly killed me to imagine how he might feel at first, knowing that I was ultimately doing this for his own good strengthened my resolve.
By the next morning, I had it all planned. I couldn’t bring myself to do it at any of our most special places; not the magical spot between the citrus trees and evergreens, where we had first expressed our love, nor the sandy lakeshore at Lancer Park, where we had shared our first kiss. No, it had to be someplace completely different, if only for my own sanity. I needed to keep those memories untarnished.
Instead I texted him, suggesting that he come over for lunch. My father would be at work, and my mom had planned a day out with the group of friends she had made within the past year. I would have the house to myself and several hours to recover before I had to face my parents.
Michael sent me a brief text in reply, saying he would be over by twelve. I spent the next three hours mentally rehearsing what I would say and how I would act.
When the bell rang at noon, I jumped as though electrocuted. My stomach clenched and my breath hitched, but I forced my feet to move to the door.
Michael was leaning against the door jam. He greeted me with his usual incredible smile, and I could feel his thoughts, bright and shiny. For the first time ever, I pushed them away and made a concerted effort to shut him out completely.
“Hey, gorgeous.” A tiny frown formed between his eyes, as though he sensed something was amiss.
“Hey.” I led him back to the kitchen table where I had put out plates and the quick lunch I had made that morning. “I hope pizza’s okay.”’
“Sure.” He pulled out my chair first, always the perfect gentleman. I shoved that thought down as well.
We were both quiet as I served the pizza and Michael began to eat. I couldn’t do more that pick at the crust.
“Tas...” He reached over and touched my cheek. “What’s wrong? You have shadows under your eyes, and you’re not eating.” He studied me carefully. “You look like you didn’t sleep. You didn’t have another Nell dream, did you?”
I shook my head. No, I hadn’t dreamed about Nell since the fateful day in the clearing at Lake Rosu, when I had first tested my power with Marica and been abducted by Cara’s father. I wasn’t sure if I was glad of that or if Nell’s absence, even in my dreams, made me uneasy.
“Then what is it?” Carefully he wiped his chin with the napkin and looked at me expectantly.
This was it, the opening I needed. I opened my mouth to speak and found no voice. I closed my eyes, building up that new wall so that I heard as little as possible.
“Michael...” I cleared my throat, as my voice sounded reedy. “Michael, we need to talk. Or maybe I need to talk. I-I haven’t been fair to you. Or to myself.” I knew I had to make it about me, what was best for me—or make him think that, at least.
Now he was frowning in earnest. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about facing facts.” My practiced speech was coming back to me, and I sensed it was the cool and unaffected Tasmyn who was taking over. Gratefully I surrendered and allowed the torn and weeping me to retreat.
“What we had, when I first moved here—well, it was great. It worked for both of us, and I’ll never forget it. But with you off at school now—it’s hard. I’m a senior, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my year moping around. I think-” I drew in a deep breath. “I think I need some space.”
Michael’s face was immobile, and he stared at me steadily. I wondered if he was thinking something he wanted me to hear, and I resisted the temptation to just lower the wall a tad and listen for a moment—
But no. I swallowed hard and forced myself to remember the day before and the cold reality of his thoughts. No, I steeled myself, what I heard yesterday was the truth. What he thought now would just be in reaction to my words now.
“What about—what about all the plans we made? Everything we’ve been talking about? You—you’re the one person in the world I can ever love, the only one I ever want to love. You are the other half of my soul.”
The lump in my throat grew. “We made those plans—too early. We barely knew each other. You don’t know that any of that—the stuff about your family is even real. And even if it is-” This was going to be hardest part, and I plunged ahead, unable to stop now. “Where is my choice in that? If for some reason it does work that way, why don’t the women have a say in the matter?”
Michael recoiled as though I had struck him, which in a very real way I had. His eyes narrowed.
“Tasmyn, where is this coming from? I don’t get it. I know you’ve been kind of—well, distant, I guess, since I came home for Christmas. But I figured we just needed some time to reconnect. This—it’s coming out of nowhere.”
I took a deep breath and spread my hands out on the table. “Look, Michael. I’m sorry if this is hard on you. But I have to think about myself, too, and this has been on my mind for quite a while. I need some time, and I need some space. And that means making a break—from you and me. From your family, from the nursery. I just want you to respect that. Let’s not make it harder on both of us by turning this into a big deal.”
Michael pushed his chair back from the table and paced the small eating area. He pushed his hand through his hair and then spun to look at me.
He was staring intently again, and I knew what he was trying to do. I refused to meet his eyes.
“Tasmyn, are you blocking me? Are you trying not to hear me?”
I kept my gaze on the floor. “I have to look after myself,” I muttered. “You just have to accept it. I think you should go now.”
The room was so silent that I could hear the brush of the palm trees against the side of the house. When Michael spoke again, his voice was low and defeated. “I don’t get this, Tasmyn. Not at all. I understand that you’ve been through a lot this fall, and I know it was tough on you, especially with me being away. But—I never thought there was anything we couldn’t get through together. I don’t know what to say to you.
“I’m going to leave, since that is so obviously what you want right now. But I’m not giving up. I swear to you—I won’t give up on us. I’ll call you tonight.”
I shook my head emphatically. I knew this had to be it. I couldn’t stretch the pain out into more agony. “Don’t. I won’t answer.”
“I don’t care. I’ll do it anyway. I refuse to believe you really mean this.” He reached out as thought to touch my hair, and then let his hand drop. Without another
word, he wheeled around and strode out of the kitchen. Brief seconds later I heard the front door slam, and moments after that, the Mustang’s engine roared to life outside.
Mechanically I picked up our plates, the pizza and the cups and threw them all into the trashcan. I wiped off the table, leaving no evidence that Michael had even been there.
And then I walked into my bedroom and pulled the shutters tightly closed. I lay down on the bed and buried my face in the pillow. Now that it was over, strong and efficient Tasmyn had vanished, leaving me with the broken and empty fragment of my soul.
Tasmyn, it’s me. So you’re not going to answer. Fine. I told you I’d call. I was hoping...I wanted you to answer and tell me this afternoon was...I don’t know. A mistake. I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t know what’s going on in your head. Well, what else is new, right? Anyway. . I’m here. I love you. Call me.
When I woke in the late afternoon, the sun was low in the sky, and I was momentarily confused. My mind moved lugubriously from heavy sleep to wakefulness, keeping me numb until the pain suddenly bit once again, and I remembered everything.
I lay back on the bed, catching my breath and trying to make sense of what I had done. I began to pick up random floating thoughts and feelings, and I realized my mother was home. I felt her concern, and by concentrating just a little, I could hear what she was thinking. She was talking to Michael on the phone.
“I’m sorry, Michael, I don’t know what to tell you.” Why would she break things off with him? She hasn’t said a word...but she has been quieter lately. She has seemed different. “She hasn’t told us anything. No, I don’t think you should come over right now. She’s asleep, and maybe she needs that. Yes, I know you’re worried about her, too. I wish I could help you—no. Of course not. As far as we knew, everything was fine. This isn’t like her at all, you know that. Something must be up.” What now? Since we’ve moved here, it’s one thing after another. I thought we were finally settling down.
“Listen, Michael, try to calm down. I’ll talk to her, I promise. I can’t say it will make any difference, but...yes. Okay. Bye now.”
I couldn’t hear my mom’s heavy sigh as she hung up the phone, but I could feel it. Guilt warred with annoyance.
Why is he bringing her into this? It seemed take-charge Tasmyn had rejoined me, and she was irritated, while my heart broke once again at what I imagined Michael had been saying to my mother.
My bedroom door opened, and my mom slipped in. “Are you awake?” When I nodded, she sat down at the end of the bed.
“That was Michael on the phone,” she began, and before I knew what I was doing, I rolled my eyes.
My mother stopped speaking and raised one eyebrow. “Would you like to explain to me what’s going on?” Her tone was deceptively calm.
I shrugged, unable to quite meet her eyes. “I guess you already know. I told Michael I didn’t want to see him anymore.”
“This was rather sudden, wasn’t it?”
I fiddled with the bedspread. “I guess. It’s been on my mind for a while, and it just seemed like I should get it out now.” When she didn’t answer, I finally looked up. “I thought you and Daddy would be relieved.”
My mother shook her head sadly. “Tas, why would you think that? You know we love Michael. He’s a great kid—a great young man.”
I pressed my lips together. “You told me last year you didn’t think we should be so serious. You were right. It just took me a little while to figure it out.”
“Tasmyn, what’s really going on? I can see it in your face—you’re miserable. Talk to me. Tell me what brought this on.”
I looked up at her, unable to answer, and after a few minutes, she left the room.
I tried not to listen when my father got home. I didn’t want to hear my mother tell him about Michael; I didn’t want to live through that, even vicariously. I sat at the dinner table and poked at the salad in front of me, but I couldn’t choke any of it down. Neither of my parents said anything to me; it was an unusually quiet dinner.
When I left the table, I put on my sweats and climbed into bed. Sleep was the greatest escape, and although I hadn’t really done anything that day—other than break the heart I’d promised to love—I was exhausted.
As I drifted off, I heard the buzz of my cell phone, sitting on the nightstand next to me. I knew it was Michael, and instinctively my hand shot out to grab it. With difficulty I pulled back my arm and deliberately rolled over, twisting the pillow around my head so that my ears were covered.
It seemed like an eternity before the buzzing finally stopped.
I knew that cutting my life loose from Michael’s was not going to be a simple process. In the fifteen months we’d been together, our worlds had entwined. I worked for his parents; I’d grown close to his sister, and all of his friends were now mine, too.
So I wasn’t entirely surprised when the doorbell rang the next morning. I didn’t move from the bed. I could already hear Lela out on the porch, and she was spitting mad.
She and my mother spoke in low tones at the front door, and I was reminded of how Lela had taken care of me in the numb days after Michael left for college. I clenched my jaw, pushed away the memory and steeled myself for the onslaught.
“What do you think you’re doing?” My bedroom door flew open, banged against the wall and almost closed again with the force Lela used. She pushed it back and marched into the room. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Hey, Lela,” I answered her wearily. “What took you so long?”
“I spent all yesterday afternoon and all last night trying to help my brother make sense of what you did. Believe me, it wasn’t a fun night at the Sawyers. And I want some answers.”
I met her glare. “It’s between Michael and me. It’s not your business or”—this was harder to say—“your parents’, either. Believe me when I say it’s best for everyone. I know he’s hurting now.” I swallowed a sob. “But in the long run, it’s going to be better for him.”
Lela’s eyes narrowed. “That’s what this is, isn’t it?” she muttered. “You’re making some self-sacrificing mess. Don’t you know that without you, Michael doesn’t think he has a life?”
“He’s wrong. It might seem hard now, but in a little while, he’ll be grateful. Really.”
I could feel that much of Lela’s righteous fury was draining away. She quietly closed the door and sat down on the side of my bed.
“You want to tell me what brought this on?” she asked. “I know you, Tas. You’re not mean, you’re not spiteful. Maybe I forgot that for a little while last night—after all, he is my little brother. Come on. Talk to me.”
I was tempted. A part of me knew that if I poured it out to her—beginning with what I’d heard in Michael’s mind—we could still make it right. Lela had her own gifts, and one of them was the power of persuasion. She would be able to convince me to talk to him.
That is not what we want. It’ll only be prolonging the inevitable. Send her away.
I frowned as unease swept over me. My stronger willed voice was beginning to sound more and more like Marica...and Nell.
“Lela, you need to go. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t have anything against you or your family...or even Michael. This is about me and what I need to do. So just be there for Michael. Do what you can to help him forget about me. It’s for the best, I promise you.”
Lela stood. She gazed down at me soberly. “If you think he’s ever going to forget about you, you’re delusional.” With that she turned and left the room.
I spent the rest of the day hiding on my bed. When evening fell, I pulled out my laptop and opened a blank document.
Dear Michael,
Yesterday was the most painful day of my life. I’m writing you this letter that I’m never going to send because I need to put it down somewhere, why I did it and how hard it was. Is there a part of me hoping that one day, I’ll be able to send this to you, to explain what seems so irrational r
ight now? Maybe. Today I can’t see through the hurting to any kind of tomorrow that isn’t gray and lifeless.
When I heard you think the other day that you weren’t sure anymore, that it was possible we aren’t really destined to be together, I knew I had to let you go. You’re too good; you would never break my heart even if you knew it would set you free. So I had to do it for you, let you go to find the person you’re really meant to love.
I love you, Michael. I always will.
Tasmyn, it’s me. I missed you today. . so much. I wanted to call before, but Lela said you needed some space. If that’s all it is...if I’ve been putting too much pressure on you, I’m sorry. But don’t cut me off. Email me, at least. Something. Anything. I love you. Call me.
For the rest of Christmas vacation, I remained stubbornly in hibernation. Anne came by twice, but I wouldn’t see her. I kept my cell phone on vibrate and checked messages at the end of the day. Marly called several times, asking if she could visit. Listening to her worried voice on the message brought on another crying jag.
And each night, I lay in bed waiting to hear the buzz of my phone that signaled Michael’s call. Agony engulfed me until the silence returned; only then could I breathe again. Eyes shut, I counted to sixty before I slowly reached for the telephone and listened to his pleading message. Each one ended the same way: I love you. Call me.
I made it nearly to a point of equilibrium. The misery became part of me, and I began to operate on autopilot, moving through each day with a set mouth and blank eyes. My parents treated me with careful bewilderment. When I accidentally let down my wall enough to hear them, I realized that they had decided to let whatever insanity this was run its course.
A few days after the new year began, I had to face the challenge of returning to school. It had been hard enough in the fall, going back without Michael. But at least then I had still had the status and security of being his girlfriend. I wondered if I would return to being the invisible girl.
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