Not every man is like my mother, who stood by my father’s side through the worst season of his life.
And maybe that’s part of the reason Garrett can’t love me. Maybe it’s not just that he thinks he doesn’t deserve love. Perhaps he doesn’t possess the same strength as the husband and my mother.
That’s the easy explanation, the one I want to cling to, to rationalize his reaction. But the truth is, Garrett has never loved me the way I want to be loved. The way I deserve to be loved.
Kenda has always been his one true love, and I can’t compete with that.
I slowly nod and find the voice that has shattered alongside my heart. “I understand.” I clear my throat of the tears clogging it and will them not to fall while he’s still here.
Please go. Please go before you see how much you’ve eviscerated me.Before you see how steep the walls are that I have to climb to finally move on once and for all.
Garrett walks to the apartment door as if he hasn’t just torn my heart from my chest and driven over it. “I’ll see you Monday,” he calls over his shoulder. “For our evening walk.”
Except I have no intention of walking with him. Not for the next while. I need some distance while I put my heart back together.
I swipe at the falling tears and wait for the door to close.
It’s only once the resounding click echoes through the hallway that I can gather my thoughts, use them to tape the pieces of my heart together, and pad it against future pain.
Maybe even pad it against taking another foolish chance like that again.
I walk to the coffee table and pick up my phone. I deliberate my options for a heartbeat, then send Emily a text.
Me: Never tell a man you’re in love with that you love him when you’re not sure if he feels the same way.
Me: It never ends well.
Em responds less than a minute later.
Emily: Ben, Jerry, and I will be right over.
50
GARRETT
Eyeingthe pink frosting smeared on Peony’s cheek as she plays with her blocks, I pick up the mail Athena left on the dining table.
The amount of frosting on Peony’s cheek is tiny, but it’s enough to tell me she and Athena were at Picnic & Treats this afternoon.
I’m almost tempted to ask Athena if she saw Zara, who’s canceled our hikes every day this week, but the handwriting on the top envelope immediately steers my thoughts away from that. Suspecting the letter isn’t an apology from Cooper’s brother for the last one he sent me, I head for the dimly lit cave of my office.
I toss the rest of the mail onto my desk and deliberate whether to bother with the letter or just toss it into the recycling unopened. Do I have the energy to deal with his theatrics or is this letter part of my punishment?
Fuck.I put on my glasses and rip open the envelope by the window where the afternoon sunlight still hits.
Garrett,
Do you regret how many lives you’ve hurt? How many others you’ve destroyed?
My brother was always there for me. He was there when I needed a guiding hand. You stole that. You took away the one person who I could trust for advice.
You don’t care what your actions did that day. You don’t care about anyone but yourself. You stole everything that was important to me. You destroyed his wife and his family.
That’s the thing—I do care.
I glance at the calendar, though I don’t need to see how many days remain until my deadline. I have the daily countdown in my head.
I could wait the fourteen days and then fly out once the manuscript is secure in Thomas’s inbox.
