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Every Time You Go Away

Page 25

by Beth Harbison


  I pulled away from his chest, reluctantly, so I could look at him.

  His cheeks tightened in that way that would indicate a smile if you can go through with it. For the first time since he’d visited me, he looked truly sad.

  I knew I was the one who looked like the ghost.

  He moved a warm, warm, real hand to my left cheek under my freckle where he always did.

  “Willa,” he said.

  “I miss you so much it makes me ache like a nausea I know will never go away.”

  He nodded. But it was as if he knew. I wasn’t any less sad he was gone, I wouldn’t waffle over bringing him back, but somehow when I’d wept and felt him here, something had finally, finally been bled out.

  We both knew this would be the last time. I knew, somehow, that that was why he was so solidly here.

  “It’s just hard,” I said. “When you’re young and you envision your life, you picture your wedding, your marriage, your kid, your other kids maybe … I never stopped to wonder what the next chapter would look like. The quiet chapter. The chapter without the busyness of checking off bucket-list items. But if I did, I thought we’d be quiet together.”

  I shook my head, and didn’t realize how much I’d deflated until he lifted me up a little.

  “I thought I’d have you to be bored with. I thought I’d have you … I thought I’d have you. Ben, I thought I’d have you.”

  “I thought I’d have you, Willa. I thought I’d have that. I never will. And … you know how I told you it’s different here? You accept that things are different and that you’ll see your loved ones again.… Well, maybe it isn’t really because it’s mystical and all that…” He shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know all that woo-woo.”

  I laughed. Truly laughed. “Ben, good lord.”

  He smiled. “If you accept that things are different now, that they aren’t over, and that we will meet again … maybe that’ll get you by. Because, I tell you, baby.” He made me look at him. “It’s not a magic spell they cast here that makes it so I can live without you. I just understand that it’s different. It’s different and I’m without you. But not forever. It’s the same for you.”

  I stared at him. Just like the house had seemed to settle finally, something, a little, released in the back of my neck and started to spread down my shoulders.

  “I love you and … and that’s all well and good, but the problem is that I miss you.” The words balled in my throat. “I want to laugh over things with you and share things with you.”

  He nodded. Then gave a small shake of his head and a bite of his lip. He always bit his lip when emotions threatened to take over. “Baby, I think we’ll have a lot to talk about. You just gotta live it first.”

  The visions of a few minutes before swirled in my head, then cycled down to my stomach, where they translated to sick, vertigo-like nausea.

  “I can’t believe this is the last time I’ll ever speak to you.”

  He looked miserable then, but gave me that suggestion again of a smile. “You’ve already talked to me for the last time, honey. And don’t forget, I’ve talked with you for the last time. You and I share that. But only for the last time in life. And now only the last time like this.”

  He nodded when I shook my head.

  I knew he was right. It sounded so ugly, so unimaginable, but suddenly he felt so long ago. God, I hated to even think that, but it was true. He felt … passed.

  His solidity started to fade from beneath my fingers.

  He looked at me hard and grabbed me by the shoulders, that smile showing his beautiful teeth, brightening his beautiful eyes. “I love you so much. I love you so much.”

  I nodded, unable to unclench my teeth and respond until he was almost gone.

  “I love you too,” I said, just in time before he faded.

  I fell then, this time—no Ben to fall into. Only air. Only the floor. Only myself.

  I sobbed so much I retched. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, I wanted to time-travel to a moment ago, a day ago, a year ago, a decade ago, and yet I knew I couldn’t and never would. It made me feel empty. Cleaned out.

  But then, as if he’d left some sort of solid-gold strength in the pit of my heart, something that kept it from evaporating completely, I heard a voice tell me that it was okay. It was okay.

  It was okay.

  It was okay.

  It was Ben, somewhere, in no particular voice, in no particular form, telling me it was okay.

  And for probably the first time, and the worst time in my life, I believed him.

  Also by Beth Harbison

  A Shoe Addict’s Christmas

  One Less Problem Without You

  If I Could Turn Back Time

  Driving with the Top Down

  Chose the Wrong Guy, Gave Him the Wrong Finger

  When in Doubt, Add Butter

  Always Something There to Remind Me

  Thin, Rich, Pretty

  Hope in a Jar

  Secrets of a Shoe Addict

  Shoe Addicts Anonymous

  About the Author

  Beth Harbison is the New York Times bestselling author of One Less Problem Without You; If I Could Turn Back Time; Driving with the Top Down; Chose the Wrong Guy, Gave Him the Wrong Finger; When in Doubt, Add Butter; Always Something There to Remind Me; Thin, Rich, Pretty; Hope in a Jar; Secrets of a Shoe Addict; and Shoe Addicts Anonymous. She grew up in Potomac, Maryland, outside Washington, D.C., and now divides her time between that suburb, New York City, and a quiet home on the Eastern Shore. Visit her online at www.bethharbison.com, or sign up for email updates here.

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  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Also by Beth Harbison

  About the Author

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  EVERY TIME YOU GO AWAY. Copyright © 2018 by Beth Harbison. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.stmartins.com

  Cover photograph of champagne © vectorfusionart/Shutterstock.com

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

  Names: Harbison, Elizabeth M., autho
r.

  Title: Every time you go away / Beth Harbison.

  Description: First edition. | New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2018.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2018001445 | ISBN 9781250043832 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781466842212 (ebook)

  Subjects: LCSH: Domestic fiction.

  Classification: LCC PS3558 .A564 E94 2018 | DDC 813/ .54—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018001445

  eISBN 9781466842212

  Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.

  First Edition: July 2018

 

 

 


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