Page 101 of The Outline


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“I’m guessing there’s a ‘but’ at the end of that…”

I nodded. “ButI can’t help thinking Renn and I weren’t ever on a path to having a real future together. Not truly. It’s possible we were meant to be together just for a time.”

“Why would you say that?”

I squared my shoulders and put the abomination coffee down on the table. “Almost from the moment you met Teddy, you were thinking of forever. Renn and I knew each other for almost two years, dated seriously for five months, and never talked about where our relationship was headed.”

“Never?” He seemed genuinely surprised.

“Not in any meaningful way, only in the near term, like who was going to Gage’s games, what we’d eat for lunch or do on the weekends. The farthest in the future we ever got was discussing the possibility of me having a baby—for you and Teddy. It never seemed to faze him that everything we planned for was day-to-day. Even though we were falling in love, he was so consumed by his burdens that planning ahead wasn’t in the cards. His mind wouldn’t allow him to take on more. I let go of my past, but he never has. He carries around his grief and his secrets like bowling balls hidden in his jacket. They weigh him down and make it difficult to move forward, and no one else is allowed to see them.”

I’d had these epiphanies over the past few weeks. Verbalizing them to Zach relieved me of some of their heaviness. I had been so secure in Renn’s love. He’d done such a good job of caring for me, I hadn’t realized until the end how little of him I’d actually had.

“You’re wondering if you should wait for him to come to terms with things?”

I nodded. “It’s hard to walk away knowing there’s a possibility Renn will be ready to share his life with someone someday. Selfishly, I can’t stand the thought of some other woman getting to be that person.”

“But you’re also worried he’ll never be ready.”

I snorted. “You know, you really missed your calling as a mind reader.”

“My powers only work on brains fueled by Cap’n Crunch, the Doobie Brothers, and anxiety. So, basically, just you.”

My cheek ticked up and I sighed. “I just don’t want to waste any more time in my life. I’ve lost so much already.”

“I get it, doll. You want the kind of future with someone that is mapped out slightly beyond the lifespan of a season ofThe Bachelor.”

I looked at him wearily. “I can’t accept less than that. Not anymore.”

He paused and took a sip of his drink. “Can I ask you something, sort of unrelated but also…not?” He looked around as though to ensure no one was listening.

“’Course.”

“Don’t you think helping me and Teddy, being our surrogate, might also delay your ability to plan a future?” He looked abashed as he asked me, bringing his hands to the table.

I reached across to grab them. “Hey, you. Look at me.” He turned, and I glanced up, holding his gaze steady. “I know you’re scared, but don’t go putting words in my mouth. You’ve already put enough filthy things in my mouth today.” I glanced down and made a face at the coffee cup on the table. “Being able to help you with this is amazing. I can’t thank you enough for the opportunity you’re giving me, for the faith and trust you’ve shown in our friendship. This thing we’re doing…” I lifted one hand and moved my pointer finger back and forth between the two of us. “Isn’t interrupting my future. It is my future. And yours.”

Zach’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “Thanks for that, doll. And whatever happens, you and I will always be each other’s family.”

“Just you try to get rid of me.” I straightened in my chair. “Now that we’ve settled that, can we get back to the real issue? Tell me what to do about Renn.”

“You know I can’t tell you that.” I stuck my tongue out at him, and he chortled. “Alright. I can’t decide for you, but the good news is, you don’t have to choose right now. You just broke up, so your decision-making instrument is probably faulty, anyway. Give it time.”

It was good advice.

But as it turned out, I didn’t need Zach’s sage wisdom. Because the decision was removed from my hands by a letter I received three days later.

April 20, 2016

Dear Sadie,

I hope it’s not too weird I’m writing a letter, but you deserve better than an email or some lame text. I’ve struggled so much to get my thoughts on paper. By the time you read this, please understand it’s probably draft 1000, but I really wanted to get it right.

First and most importantly, I want to say that you weren’t wrong. It took me a month to admit that…well, a month on top of six years…but there it is.

After you left, I went to Gage’s game, and I lied. I told my family you weren’t feeling well. When I woke up the next morning, I realized I was going to have to tell the truth—that you were gone. I also realized I needed to tell Gage and Robbie about Pete and the DNA results. I knew I could prolong it, but the story was going to come out eventually. And that’s when it hit me. No matter what I told people, no matter how much I put things off, the truth was going to catch up to me.

So that’s what I wanted you to know—you were right. About lots of things. I see that now.