“I
don’t know.” Dad looks relieved to see my smile. “There’s
some fight in the old dog yet, especially when it comes to my baby
girl.”
I
roll my eyes. “I’m not a kid anymore.”
“You’ll
always be my baby girl,” he corrects me, looking kind of watery
around the eyes too now. “And I hope . . . well,
I hope that one day we can go fishing again.”
I
pause, regret aching in my chest. This is the closest and most honest
we’ve been with each other in years. “I’d like
that, too,” I agree quietly.
We
sit in silence for a moment, then my dad gets to his feet. “Well,
I’ve taken up enough of your time.”
I
rise too, and offer him a hand as he steps back out onto the trailer
flat-bed. He pauses.
“I
just want you to be happy, you know that. But I will say something,
coming from the other side of the story.” Dad looks solemn.
“Hurting you and your mother was the worst thing I ever did. It
still haunts me, and I’ve spent every day since earning back
her trust, and making it so she never has to question how much I love
her ever again. I don’t know much about your Will,” he
says, “but he seemed like the kind of man who would spend a
lifetime setting things right.”
He
climbs down and leaves me to my whirling thoughts. I notice that the
handkerchief has fallen, so I bend down to pick it up. That’s
when I notice the writing carved into the side of the boat, almost
hidden down by the bench. I kneel to take a closer look.
This
was the day I fell in love with you
.
My
breath leaves my lungs in a whoosh, I feel like I just got winded.
Hard.
Will
.
There
aren’t enough words for how I feel thinking about him,
remembering that afternoon in the water, his lips burning hot in the
icy creek. And later, together at his place . . . how
he knew just how to touch me, drive me to the edge, as if he could
read my mind, knowing I’d never let myself fall like that
before, but promising to catch me regardless.
It
was the only time I’ve ever felt something so deep, a
connection beyond anything I could imagine, and now, I feel a regret
so bittersweet it makes me want to cry.
Am
I really going to give all this up because of one mistake?
My
heart aches. I remember what my mom said, about choosing a life with
Dad rather than one without him. It seemed so clinical at the time,
but now, I see it wasn’t about making a calculation, it wasn’t
about rational thought at all.
It
was just about love.
And
for the first time, I understand.
Yes,
it hurts, and yes, I still feel like Will betrayed me by not telling
me everything, but right now when I think about the future, and what
I want from my life, all I can think about is him. Laughing and
talking and driving each other crazy with desire. Waking up with him
as dawn breaks through the windows and feeling him reach for me in
the middle of the night. I want it so much, I can’t stand it. A
life together, my partner, my cheerleader.
My
love.
God,
just a couple of weeks without him has already been an eternity. How
am I supposed to get through another sixty years without him by my
side?
I
pull out my cellphone and dial. “Eva?” I ask, when she
picks up. “About that trip you suggested . . . can
I stay tonight?”
My
head is still spinning, but I know what I have to do.
“I’m
coming to New York.”
Thanks
to my credit card and a last-minute flight, here I am less than
twenty-four hours later: walking the busy New York sidewalks towards
Will’s last known address, wondering if I’m making the
biggest mistake of my life by putting my heart on the line like this.
Or
if I already made that mistake, letting him walk away.
“He’ll
be so happy to see you,” Eva reassures me, walking alongside. I
stayed at her place last night, and even roped her into coming with
me now, in case I lose my nerve. “You guys will fall into each
other’s arms, make out, and live happily ever after.”
“I
hope so.”
She
makes it sound like a foregone conclusion, but my stomach is twisted
up in knots, and every step makes my pulse race with sick
anticipation. I look around to distract myself, but it’s not
comforting either. “This is so weird, I just can’t
picture Will here at all.”
It’s
a neighborhood down near the financial district, all sleek doorman
buildings, chrome and glass. Everyone on the streets is polished and
chic, striding off somewhere with no time to spare. It’s
another world from the man I knew: two-day stubble, work-boots and
jeans, living in that shack in the woods, and never happier.
But
I guess we’re not in Oak Harbor anymore.
“Are
you sure you got the right address?” Eva asks, as if she’s
not convinced either.
I
check again. “I think so. His friend, Declan, says this is
where Will had him send some contracts over the weekend.”
“It’ll
be fine.” Eva can clearly tell how scared I am, because she
puts an arm around my shoulders and squeezes. “This was his old
life, remember? He already chose to leave it all behind.”
I
nod, but inside, my doubts are still swirling. What if he’s
already chosen to go back to all of this?
What
if I’m too late, and I pushed him away so hard that he’s
really gone for good?
We
reach the address, one of the fancy new buildings, but I pause on the
sidewalk, still unsure. “He might not even be here,” I
say, looking up at it. “Or maybe he is, with
her
.”
“Then
we’ll cuss him out and go see
Hamilton
,”
Eva replies brightly. “And drink until you feel better—or
so hung over it doesn’t matter anymore.”
I
manage a faint smile. “Thanks for coming.”
“Always.
Now go get him back.” She gives me a light shove towards the
entrance, so I gather up my strength and step through the revolving
glass doors. Inside, the lobby is all marble and minimal, and it
takes me a moment to even find the elevators. I step into one behind
a couple of guys in suits, and watch them check their phones, so
clean-cut and focused, barely glancing at their surroundings like on
autopilot before they reach their floor.
Is
this what Will was trying to escape, leaving it all behind the way he
did?
As
the elevator rises, my nerves do too, so by the time I get off on the
seventeenth floor, I half want to turn around and go straight back
home. But I force myself to head down the hallway to his apartment,
every step full desperate hope—that he’s still a man of
his word, the way he always promised.
That
even after everything, he’s still mine.
I
reach the right door, and lift my hand. Still, it takes another deep
breath before I can bring myself to press the bell.
My
excitement lifts, anticipation already spinning through my veins.
God, I’ve missed him. Just to see his face again makes my heart
sing a wild rhythm in my chest. I don’t know what I’m
going to say to him yet, but I’ll think of something. I’ll
make him see he was right about me from the start.
I
press the bell again, and then I hear footsteps approaching. The door
opens.
“Surprise—”
I start, awkward, then I stop, the words crumbling in the air between
us.
It’s
Helena, still just as polished as the last time I saw her, in a chic
little shift dress and lipstick, her hair smoothed back in a perfect,
complicated French braid.
My
heart sinks. “Oh.” I step back, feeling awkward. “Sorry.
I was . . . looking for Will, but I must have the
wrong address—”
“No,
this is him,” Helena interrupts. “He should be back
soon.”
I
stop, the truth sinking in. He’s here. With her.
Oh
god, I’m too late.
“Why
don’t you come in?” she offers, holding the door wider.
“It’s Delilah, right? We met back in that town of yours.
Helena,” she offers helpfully, with perfect manners.
“I
remember,” I manage to reply. As if I could ever forget. She’s
still holding the door open for me, and I don’t know what else
to do, so I follow her inside.
“Can
I get you a drink?” she offers, still so polite. “Water,
soda?”
“No.
Thanks.”
I
already made a mistake, coming here, but I guess I need to torture
myself even more because I can’t help but look around, taking
it all in. Every inch is polished and slick, with modern furniture
and gorgeous views of the city. It screams “money” from
every gleaming surface—and there’s nothing here that even
hints at Will. It’s like a showroom, or a photo spread from a
glossy magazine: perfect and soulless, not a thing out of place.
I
turn back to Helena. She’s hovering over by the dining table,
fussing with some candles. “I guess you’ve heard all
kinds of terrible stories about me,” she says with a forced
smile.
“No,”
I answer slowly, confused. “He didn’t tell me anything at
all.”
“Oh.”
She swallows, and I realize that she’s nervous too. Maybe even
more than I am. “I’m sorry for just showing up, that last
time I saw you.” Helena looks away, then back, her eyes almost
sad. “My therapist said I needed closure, and I guess I jumped
the gun.”
“Closure?”
“To
move on,” Helena explains. She exhales, and her perfect posture
slips, like she’s letting the act go for the first time. “It
just . . . wasn’t working, it hadn’t
been right for a long time. I tried to make everything perfect, but I
still couldn’t make him happy.” She gives me a sad smile.
“I pretended like I didn’t notice, I thought, if we could
just push through . . . but he hated work, he
hated this apartment, and soon enough, I knew, he’d wind up
hating me too. I think that’s why I did what I did. So he
couldn’t be the one to break it off first. Petty, I know,”
she adds wryly. “I’m working on that with the therapist
too.”
I
stare at her, trying to take it in. Will was telling me the
truth—their relationship had been crumbling, she cheated on
him.
It
really was over.
But
I knew that all along. I’d never doubted his story, only the
fact he could hide it from me.
“I’m . . . sorry,”
I tell her, and right now, I really am. I can’t imagine what it
would be like to love Will and still see him slipping away from me.
“I’m sorry you both had to go through that.”
She
gives me a regretful smile. “Not as sorry as I am. But, I’m
glad he finally decided to come back and talk it through. There’s
so much practical stuff to deal with: breaking the lease, and packing
things up. Figuring out who gets what.” She looks around at the
apartment sadly. “He says I can take everything. There’s
really nothing he wants from our life together.”
I
would almost feel pity for her, if she hadn’t cheated on the
man I love.
Luckily,
I don’t have to find an answer. There’s the sound of a
key in the lock, and then the door opens. It’s Will,
half-buried under a stack of packing boxes. He’s already set
them down before he turns and sees me standing here. Our eyes lock.
And
then there’s nothing in the world but the two of us again.
My
heart stops. His face has been haunting me for weeks, but now he’s
right here, vivid Technicolor and more perfect than anything I’ve
seen. Every strand of that thick, dark hair, every inch of tanned
skin. I want to hurl myself headlong into those searching hazel eyes
and never come up for air.
Mine
.
Every
muscle in my body seems to cry it, and it takes all my self-control
not to go throw my arms around him and kiss him with everything I
have.
“Dee.”
He says my name softly, a hopeful smile creasing across his lips.
“You’re here.”
I
nod. “I’m here.”
The
space between us beats with a thousand unsaid words. My head is
already spinning, and I can’t look away. I just drink him in,
feeling like the center of my gravity has just returned, after weeks
left spinning, off-balance and out of control.
There’s
a delicate sound, Helena clearing her throat. “I’ll leave
you two alone then.” She picks up her purse, and walks to the
door, pausing by Will. “The movers will be here tonight,”
she tells him. “And you have my new address, in case there are
any more details . . .”
He
nods. “Fine.”
“Well
then.” Helena glances back at me. “Goodbye.”
She
lets herself out, and the door closes behind her. Still, Will and I
are frozen in place.
“I
didn’t think I’d see you here,” he says, his voice
sounding hoarse. There’s so much emotion in his eyes; I can’t
tell what he’s thinking, I only know how it feels to be near
him again.
So
right, I could never leave him again.
“I
didn’t think I’d come,” I admit quietly.
“But
you’re here?” he says again, almost like he can’t
believe it.
I
nod.
“OK.”
He exhales. “OK. Is Marcie back yet?”
I
blink, thrown. “What?”
“Marcie.
The business. I heard you landed Ash’s contract, that means she
has to sell to you, right?” Will looks hopeful, and I can’t
believe it. After everything, the first thing he thinks about is me.
My career. My dreams.
I
can’t hold back any longer. I cross the room and hurl myself
into his arms, clinging on for dear life. Will stumbles back under
the force of my embrace, and then he’s holding me tight,
cradling me to his warm, solid body, surrounding me with his scent,
his touch.
Claiming
my lips for his own.
It’s
incredible. Our mouths are desperate, hungry, fevered after so long
apart. I kiss him greedily, losing myself in the sensation.
Nothing
has ever felt so right.
His
tongue slides deep into my mouth, tasting me, and I can’t get
enough. He pushes me up against the wall, his body rock hard against
mine, and I moan into his mouth, running my hands over the taut
planes of his shoulders, arching up eagerly to mold myself to him.