The thought has crossed my mind a time or two, making me feel both excited and terrified. It would be a huge risk—one I’m not sure I’m willing to take.
“I’ve worked too hard, dedicating years of my life to moving my way up to the position I have now atThe Rockdale Journal. I don’t think I can just drop something that I’ve chased after for so long,” I say, but the words taste stale in my mouth.
Years ago, I started at the bottom. I made coffee runs and prepared proposal after proposal with my photographs, until finally, one day, I was able to get a promotion. And then another. It’s been my sole focus, distracting me from the past and giving me something to look forward to in my future—until, one day, I stopped looking forward.
I don’t want to admit that I lack the same joy or drive that Olivia seems to have with her business. When I look at the photographs I’ve produced forThe Rockdale Journal, I’m notproud of what I see. Have I been so blinded by my drive to keep myself moving that I forgot to stop and find the happiness in the now? Maybe that’s why I’ve been feeling like I’ve been standing on unsteady ground for quite some time.
“I understand that, but sometimes you just need to take a leap of faith and see where it takes you. It could bring you more success and happiness. You’ll never know until you give it a try,” she adds, the words hitting me harder than I want them to.
I place a dish into the drainer and reach for a towel to dry my hands off. Olivia opens the oven and places a tray of raspberry-rose macarons inside and sets the timer before motioning for me to follow her. We walk out onto her front porch and take our seats on her matching white rocking chairs.
Olivia lives within walking distance of the downtown area. She likes being close to some of the businesses she works with, making it easier for deliveries. I look out toward the rows of small and colorful buildings that sit in front of her house, the tips of the Appalachian mountains peeking over the horizon, the occasional car driving by with a honk. A few townsfolk even shout, “Good evening,” to us.
It’s completely different than my view back in Rockdale. Even though I can look down from my third-story window and see the constant movement of life, it will never be as comforting as this.
“I heard you on the phone with Samuel this morning,” Olivia announces, no remorse written on her face for being nosey.
“Nothing has ever been private with you.” I shake my head, a grin spreading on my face. “What about it?”
She eyes me for a moment before scrunching her nose as she ponders her words. “It’s okay to admit that love fades sometimes.”
I think back on Samuel’s and my conversation from this morning. He asked me when I would be back in Rockdale, I told him I was unsure, and then he expressed how unsettled hefelt after our argument. I didn’t want to discuss the future since it currently feels like the past is trying to suffocate me. My world feels completely unraveled after losing Mamaw.
“I don’t think I ever allowed myself to love him. Not like he deserved.”
Olivia lets my words sink in before she continues. “Maybe while you’re here, you can work on healing the parts of your heart thatneedrepairing so that you can finally love the wayyoudeserve,” Olivia adds.
My eyes snap toward hers, her words making my heart feel like it skips a beat and takes my breath. I knew what she’s referring to—or better yet,who. I have some unresolved issues with a certain ex-boyfriend who has been on my mind a lot since returning to Covewood. But how can Ryland and I fix the damage that was done over a decade ago? Is it something worth trying to fix? And even if we do, what will that mean for us?
“I’m not sure I want to deal with that while I’m also trying to move through this grief,” I admit, welcoming the hug that she pulls me into.
She rubs small circles on my back as I lean closer to her. I remind myself to soak this in, the warmth of my best friend, the comfort she provides, and I hold onto her a little tighter. Olivia has helped me try to work through my heartbreak these past few days, and the thought of leaving her and returning to Rockdale sends my stomach plummeting to the ground with dread. How can I miss Olivia while I’m within her embrace?
She gives me an encouraging smile as I pull away. I know my bereavement time off from work will be up soon, and eventually, I will need to return back to the real world. However, the last thing I want right now is to be away from my loved ones during this difficult season. My mind starts pondering on how I can extend my time here when my thoughts are interrupted by the sound of my phone vibrating from inside her house.
“I’ll be back,” I say as I stand up and make my way back into the living room to pick up my cell phone. A photo ofPapaw and a nine-year-old me holding my favorite pet duck pops up onto my screen.
“Hey, Papaw.”
I’ve purposely avoided visiting the farm since Mamaw passed. I’ve been scared of how much the house will remind me of her and that her memory will be the only thing I have left of her. I’m not ready to face that just yet, but my Papaw needs me, and I can’t avoid certain things any longer.
I remember the drive to the farm like it’s something I could do with my eyes closed, allowing my instincts to lead the way. In the past, when I thought of the farm and my grandparents, it was a safe haven. My place of escape. And then, one day, I decided that it wasn’t enough for me.
I think that’s what I’m most ashamed of. The fact that I thought leaving this place would be better for me. Better for everyone. The first few years felt freeing to be somewhere new, to have the fresh start I always dreamed of having. I was safe to be who I wanted to be with the distance between me andthem.
But then, something changed, and life started to weave together a blanket that didn’t comfort me anymore. Instead, it scratched against me, revealing just how uncomfortable I’ve truly become in my own skin.
My soul has been longing for the rolling green hills that lead down the pathway toward my grandparents’ home. Towardmyhome. I yearn to feel my bare feet against the earth, inhale the scent of fresh-cut grass and morning dew, and watch the changing colors in the sky at sunrise while sitting on the front porch swing.
I want to be home, but how can I return when I’m not the same girl anymore, when I tried so hard to buryher deep beneath the ground, never ready to face the pain that I’ll find waiting for me if I dig her back up.
I can feel her slowly clawing her way to the surface as I inch closer and closer toward the dirt-covered road that leads through the canopy of trees. I inhale and hold in a breath for a few seconds as I pass the green gate that hasWileywritten across it. As my car moves along the road, the trees start to thin, revealing undulating slopes that seem more orange than green as the sun begins to set into the golden hour. I can see the roof of the farmhouse through my windshield.
I release my breath and feel the squeeze in my chest as my anxiety builds. The trembling in my hands grows, and I tighten my grip against the steering wheel. Acting on instinct, I hit the brakes, and dirt from the road puffs around my car in a poor attempt to hide my arrival. I need a moment to collect myself before I face Papaw.
I place my forehead against the steering wheel and close my eyes. Even though I’ve slacked on praying lately, I know I need his help to get through this.
“Please help me, Lord. I feel so weak, and I need the type of strength that only you can give. I need to be strong for Papaw. Please, help me do this for him.”
