I take another drink of my coffee. Blow out a deep breath. Cross my arms against my chest. All in all, that takes about seventeen seconds. Not nearly enough time to prepare myself to say the words out loud, but I do. “I told her I loved her. Asked her to move with me. She said no. Not sure what else there is to say.”
The silence that follows is so heavy, it might as well be a ton of bricks pressing down on me. Finally, Cade clears his throat, and Jase starts in on that one time we dyed the pool purple in high school and managed to never get caught. Before long, they both have me laughing again, despite the hollow feeling in my gut at the thought of leaving.
That laughter, almost more than anything, is what I’ll miss when I’m gone.
THIRTY-ONE
paige
I love my family, but I’m starting to get a little sick of them. I’ve managed to rotate between both my brothers’ places and my parents’ house over the last week and a half, limiting the time I spent at my apartment. Not because of any reason other than I missed them. It definitely didn’t have to do with a certain tall, dark, and handsome hottie who reached into my chest, pulled my heart out, and put it through a meat grinder.
I think they can all tell something’s up, but other than Dillon, none of them knows anything. When asked, I blame it on the stress at the station, worrying about getting the job offer, and defending my thesis. That it helps me relax to be around them. So far, they’ve all bought it, but I don’t know for how long that’s going to last.
And I’m not sure when I’ll be able to walk through the doors to my apartment building and not have a sinking feeling in my stomach, a dread in my chest. Not be bombarded with memories of the past few months.
“Punky! Your phone’s been blasting like a motherfucker. Answer it already. Jesus,” Tanner shouts from the kitchen, mixing up another batch of margaritas to go with our chips and queso and our marathon sit-in of 24.
Dragging myself up from the couch, I go into the kitchen and grab my phone off the counter while Tanner turns on the blender. I have four missed calls, all from Tessa, and a text that simply says, call me. Walking away from the whirring noise and down the hall, I dial her number and wait for her to answer.
“Hey,” she says, relief in her voice.
“Hi, what’s up? Everything okay?”
She’s quiet for a minute. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
Furrowing my brow, I glance around. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why would you ask?”
She clears her throat and avoids the question. “Where are you?”
“Tanner’s. We’re marathoning 24 and having margaritas.”
“Have you, um, have you been home lately?”
She doesn’t need to know I crashed at Dillon’s place the past two nights because I was too chickenshit to go to my apartment. Too afraid I’d run into Adam again and the pain in my chest would increase tenfold. It was all I could do to tell her about it the day after Adam decided to throw me for a fucking loop. I made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal, shrugged, then pretended I needed a new pair of red wedges, so I dragged her to the mall and partook in some retail therapy. Since? I haven’t said a word about that jerk with the meat grinder, and neither has she. I’m not going to start now.
Evading a bit, I say, “Not for a while, why?”
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” There’s movement on her end of the line, then she blows out a breath. “You know…with Adam leaving.”
It’s just a handful of words. Certainly not enough to make it feel like the ground disappeared from under me. Like I’m in a free fall to a black and bottomless hole. It shouldn’t feel like all the oxygen in the room’s been sucked out, and I’m gasping for air. It was only a couple months. A handful of days. How was he able to affect me so much?
I clear my throat and try to keep my voice even. “I, uh, I thought he was leaving next week?”
Tessa’s voice is tentative, her I’m sorry and I didn’t know how else to tell you and How can I help? clear in every word. “He got things squared away at the shop, so he decided to go early.”
“So he’s…he’s gone? He left?”
“Yeah. Jason and Cade helped him move out of the apartment yesterday. He left this morning.”
“Oh.”
That’s good, though, right? He’s gone now. I can go back to my apartment. I don’t have to couch hop between every one of my family members. I don’t have to worry about pulling into the parking lot at the same time as him. Don’t have to worry about running into him as I get my mail, or as I’m on my way out. Don’t have to worry about him tagging along to whatever activity I’m getting up to.
I should say all of that, tell her I’m okay. That this is good. It’s totally fine. Better this way, really. Instead, all I manage is another, “Oh.”
“What season are you on?”
“Huh?”
“24,” she says. “What season are you watching?”
“Oh, um, we’re just starting Season 2.”
“Really? That’s perfect. I never saw the second season. Maybe I can come over? I’ll bring ice cream. Does Tanner still love rocky road?”
I want to cry. I want to sag against the wall and slouch down to the floor, tuck my knees to my chest and sob. Sob until I expel all these feelings, the ones weighing me down inside, the ones making it difficult to talk or think or dream or breathe. I don’t know if it’s better or worse that Adam left earlier than planned. It shouldn’t change anything; I haven’t seen him since that morning in my apartment, so this doesn’t affect me. Not really. Except now, it feels like he’s a million miles away. Out of my reach. Like even the possibility of more has been snatched away, taken out of my grasp, and there’s no going back from that.
There’s no hope for us now. It’s done. Over. For good.
Pressing my forehead against the wall, I close my eyes. “Yeah, it’s his favorite.” My voice is scratchy, the product of me denying the tears that want to come, but Tessa doesn’t comment on it.
“Rocky road it is. And double fudge brownie for us. Since I’ll be at the store anyway, I was maybe thinking I’d grab some of those lemon bars from the bakery. And I saw this thing on Pinterest for peanut butter s’mores dip. God, it looked amazing. I think I’ll grab stuff to make that, too. Can’t have too many munchies for a TV marathon.”
“You’re going to make me gain twenty pounds.”
“I love you, too. I’ll see you soon.”
I press the end button on my phone and stare at the black glass screen, tears blurring my vision. I’m not sure how long I stand there before Tanner calls from the living room, “Who was that? Tess? She comin’ over? See if she can bring some of that salsa Cade makes. That shit is fucking delicious.”
Huffing out a laugh, I shake my head, blinking the tears out of my eyes and allowing them to trail down my face. Those are it. The last tears I’ll shed for Adam. The last ones I’ll allow myself.
I chose this path. Made this decision to let him walk away without me, and I’m sticking with it. I’ve got my family and friends here. A job I can’t wait to start. I’ll be all right. I’m living the life I love.
Even if it is a life without Adam.
THIRTY-TWO
adam
Even after a couple weeks of being back in Colorado, time I’ve spent at the office, doing the job I’ve been anxious to get back to, I’m still waiting for that sense of accomplishment to come when I leave at the end of the day. Will it hit me today, when I walk in through my door? When I take off my crisp white shirt and pressed black pants and don’t have to shower off dirt or sweat, will I think about what a great job I did today? How I achieved something, helped to make something stronger by my day’s work? Or will it be the same as it’s been every other night for weeks?
While I’m supposed to be engrossed in a client’s project, all I can think about is the shop. How it’s doing. If Mom and Dad have remembered to change out the signs advertising the new classes coming up
for the fall. If they’ve hired the new guides yet. And if they have, are the people they got qualified enough to handle everything?
As I push through my door and toss my keys on the counter, I try to remember what it was like before I left. How I felt at the end of each day, because it had to have been there before, right? That sense of accomplishment at the end of the day. At some point before I went back home and before I worked at the shop and before I brought it back to life, I felt it… At some point while working here, I felt it, didn’t I?
I unbutton the crisp white shirt I’ve come to hate as I head toward the shower, even though I don’t need one. Doesn’t matter. It gives me something to do, and it takes my mind of things. Things like…what if I didn’t feel that accomplishment? What if I’ve never felt it, but I didn’t know any better? And I spent the time at my parents’ shop thinking it’d be here when I got back, only to find it was never here in the first place.
I spent the summer in Michigan waiting to get back to this place, with its stability and reliability and predictability, counting down the weeks until I’d be back on solid ground, not fumbling through miles and miles of uncertainty and doubt. And all I’ve been able to think about since I’ve been back is everything I left behind. Paige. Everything I turned my back on because it wasn’t the safe route or the easy route. Paige.
And that makes me wonder how much of my life has been planned out with those thoughts in mind? I went to UNC not because it was my top choice, but because I was able to get a nice scholarship there, easing financial strain. I eventually shoved baseball aside, even though I loved it, even though I was damn good at it, because I never saw it as a plausible future for me. I got my degree in accounting not because I love working with numbers, but because I’m good at it, and I knew I could make a solid living doing it.
Has any part of my adult life been something I’ve chosen because I wanted to? Because I loved it too much to turn my back on it, to choose a different, easier path?
Every memory I have is tainted with thoughts of what I’ve done under the guise of this misconception that I needed to live this way. The girls I dated…have I really liked the quiet, docile types, or did I just gravitate toward them because it was easy? Because they didn’t challenge me? Not like a certain opinionated, outgoing blonde does.
A certain opinionated, outgoing blonde who turned her back on me. Who made her choice.
Looks like I made mine, too.
* * *
paige
I thought it would help, knowing Adam’s gone, but it doesn’t. Walking through the door of my apartment building has been just as hard as it was that last week before he left. Harder, because even though I didn’t want to see him, there was a part of me that sort of hoped I would. Now, though, that possibility is squashed.
Even with things keeping me busy at the station with Detective Dodd having me track down leads, I think about him too much. Especially when I’m home with nothing else to occupy my time. And it’s not like I can do any of the things I used to love. Whenever I try watching a favorite movie, I have the sudden urge to text Adam a stupid line from the dialogue. One time I barely caught myself before pressing Send, and God, wouldn’t that have been a bitch to explain? Oh, hey, Adam, just can’t stop thinking about you is all, even though I let you walk away…
What’s worse, I can’t even go out and do any of the activities I used to love, because I’ve done them all with him, thanks to those stupid fucking non-date dates. I see his face at yoga, when I go rock climbing or rappelling. Paintball, laser tag, biking along the lake…even running in my neighborhood. Wherever I go, whatever I do, he’s there, his eyes penetrating, his lips unmoving, as he stares at me. Untouchable.
He even ruined B.O.B. for me, the bastard, and I haven’t been able to get myself off since he left. Not that I even have the urge anymore, but sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, my body on fire, the sheets wrapped around my ankles and my panties wet, totally unsatisfied because I can’t even dream of him without pulling myself away.
And isn’t that just a bitch? I won’t go after him in real life, and I punish myself for it by not even allowing it in my dreams.
I don’t realize I’m frozen in front of Adam’s door, just staring blankly at it, until a throat clears from the staircase.
“’Scuse me, dear, do you know where I’d drop this key off? My son forgot to return it. I thought there’d be an office somewhere, but I can’t find one, and I’ve been all around the property. Do you live here?”
I glance over my shoulder, and when I spot the woman standing there, we both freeze. All the air vanishes from my lungs—just, poof, gone. I try to remember how to talk. How to smile. How to something, but I can’t. Mrs. Reid recovers before I do, a huge smile sweeping over her face as she continues down the steps until she’s on the landing next to me. “I remember you. Rappelling gloves, right?” She glances at the door I was just staring at, the door that was Adam’s, and when she looks back at me, she has this knowing glint in her eyes. I didn’t say a goddamn word, but it’s like she knows everything without me having to. “This makes more sense now…”
I finally find my voice. “What does?”
“My son scrambling to move in here when he had a perfectly usable room at our house.” She smiles then, clasping her hands in front of her. “Can I assume your apartment is one of these four?” She gestures to the four doors leading to apartments. “And that you didn’t meet for the first time when you came into the shop?”
Not seeing the point in lying, I nod. “Yeah, I’m this one.” I gesture behind me toward my door. “And no, we didn’t. Adam and I have actually known each other for years, just in passing, though, until this summer. I’m Paige, Tessa’s best friend.”
“Well, I’ll be…” she says as she pats my arm. “Of course, of course. I go to her to get my hair cut, you know. I just love that girl. And her daughter, oh. What a doll. Makes me so happy she and Jason got together. Jason’s like a second son to us, you see, especially now after everything with his parents, well…” She tuts and shakes her head. “I’m sure you know. I’m surprised Tessa didn’t mention this to me, about you and Adam. Though you know most of the time it’s the clients yapping the ears off the poor stylists, just blabbing about anything they can think of.” She laughs and pauses, her smile welcoming, her eyes open and bright, telling me it’s my turn to talk now after her monologue.
Except I don’t have any idea what to say.
Your son told me he loved me, and I ran scared. Like I always do.
I think I might love him, too, but it’s too late.
I thought I was happy with my life here, but he’s ruined that, too. He’s ruined everything.
“Um, it was nice meeting you, Mrs. Reid, but I have a yoga class I need to get to, so I better go…” I jerk my thumb toward my door and pull my keys out.
She looks at me—really looks, the same way Adam does, and it makes me want to cower, to duck away, to hide, but I know it’d be no use. She can probably see through me, too—and then she nods. “Oh sure, sure. Nice to meet you, too, Paige. You go on ahead. Sorry to have kept you.”
“It’s no problem.” I try to smile, but it feels more like a grimace, and by the way her brow furrows, her lips tipped down at the corners, I’m sure I’m not too far off. I glance down at her wringing hands and see the key, remembering why she was here in the first place. “Oh, and you can drop the key off upstairs. Apartment 8 is the manager.”
“Thank you, dear.” She nods, then heads up the stairs and calls over her shoulder, “Hope to see you again soon.”
I choke out some sort of reply, but I have no idea if it comes out as anything remotely recognizable because I can’t get into my apartment fast enough. Letting my purse and messenger bag fall at my feet, I collapse against the closed door and try to focus on anything but what just happened. About her parting words. I think about my internship, which is done next week, and Captain Peters is letting us know on Fri
day who got the full-time analyst position. I have a million things I should be concerned about, should be concentrating on, but whenever I close my eyes, it’s his I see.
Is that ever going to change?
THIRTY-THREE
adam
Before I left Michigan, I switched the shop to new accounting software, one that lets me to log in from anywhere and keep track of the numbers. I didn’t want to allow the shop to slide into a deep hole like the last time…wanted to be able to stop it earlier, if I needed to.
The first week I was home, I saw a decline in sales at the shop. I figured that was to be expected. My mom and dad were still getting their footing with all the changes we made. But then week two was much the same, only worse. Week three? A steady decline. Now, a month after I’ve been back in Denver, there’s no more avoiding it. No more denying it. All the progress I made while I was there is getting erased in the face of declining sales.
Knowing I can’t avoid it any longer, I press the speed dial on my phone for my parents and wait for one of them to answer.
“Hi, sweetie! This is a nice surprise,” my mom says.
“Hey, Mom. How’s it going?”
“Oh, it’s going great. We’re keeping busy here, but we sure miss you. Jason’s been stopping by more, though. He brought Haley the other day—I tell you what, she’s just the sweetest little thing, isn’t she? Makes me miss my grandbaby. Can hardly wait for the new baby to be born. Sure would love to spend a couple weeks down there, to help Aubrey.” She tuts. “Having a toddler, plus a newborn, Lord, that girl is gonna run herself ragged. She’s gonna be a wreck. Just a wreck. Wish there was more we could do. Maybe I’ll be able to sneak down for a bit and your dad can run the shop for a while.”
Paige in Progress (Reluctant Hearts #3) Page 23