Chapter 18 THE EASE OF GOODBYE
Chapter 18
T HE E ASE OF G OODBYE
Present Day
In the morning, Charli wakes to find Noah nestling up against her. It’s slightly invasive, but she allows it, like a judge might allow a prosecutor to ask an impertinent question while prodding a witness. “I’ll allow it,” the judge might say, “but this will be your last warning.”
But she does pull the sheets up over her exposed breast.
The memory of the night flows in, how they were the last to leave the pub. She’s never craved a man so much in her life, and they’d gone after each other with a rabid intensity once they were behind closed doors.
She remembers something and chuckles.
“What?” he asks.
She finds his eyes and looks lower. “Your Donald Duck boxers. I can’t believe you have Donald Duck boxers.” She remembers sliding them off the night before while poking fun at him.
He looks down and then pulls the covers over them. “They seemed charming when I found them at the store.”
“Oh, they certainly are.”
She bites her lip. He really is stunning, even in the morning.
He reads the tea leaves, proverbially speaking, and turns toward her. Starts to pull the sheet from her. She grips it tighter, and he smiles. “Are you off limits this morning?”
“I’m undecided,” she says.
“Ah, I see. So do I need to go about convincing you?” He moves closer to her, slides a hand under the sheets to find her hip.
“I’m ...” She feels his touch and closes her eyes.
He tugs at the sheet with his other hand, and she lets him expose her. Then she lets him have her.
Later, they sit up against a stack of pillows. He wraps his arms around her, and she lets him do so. Their narrowing time together allows for such intimacy.
“For a guy who claims not to indulge in trysts like these often, you sure know your way around a woman.”
He chuckles with his mouth closed. “It feels natural with you, almost like I keep a map of you in my wallet. A treasure map.”
She grins. “You’re certainly close to the gold.”
“I’ll keep mining then.” He twists to her, and his foot grazes against hers under the covers. “How do I know you don’t go all over England taking advantage of men like me?”
“It’s a possibility,” she whispers.
“Why don’t you stay longer?” he asks, dragging a finger up her chest and neck to her lips. “Even my father wants you to. That’s high praise.”
“You get me for one last day.”
“That’s not long enough.”
“You’d better make the best of it.”
He grows serious. “I know you’re being funny, but there’s some truth in there. Why do you keep me at a certain distance?”
She starts to answer but bites it back. Though he’s crossing a line, he deserves more than her shrugging it off. “I have to get back. I have a job and a dog waiting for me. And my dad, who needs me. Let’s face it. I’ve been hurt. You’ve been hurt. We know where this is headed.” That last part is about as real as she’s going to get.
“What if we tried to make it work? What if I came to see you? I like you, Charli, and I don’t want to let you go.”
Don’t want to let you go. She wasn’t expecting that; no one has ever said such a thing, even her father.
“Let’s enjoy today. I like you, too, Noah, but ... but trust me, you don’t want anything long term with me. Especially long-distance long term. I’m not good at either.”
“Maybe this is different. For heaven’s sake, what are you afraid of?”
She retreats into herself. Slightly annoyed, she sits up and reaches for her clothes. She starts to dress, and she can feel him watching her. It’s making her embarrassed.
“Don’t do this again. What is it with you and the morning? You can’t be mad at me for bringing up a possible future. It’s like I go to bed with one woman and wake up to another.”
She snaps her bra clasp and turns to him. “Sometimes it’s best to enjoy the moment and not let the future trample on it.”
He nods slowly. “Is that a passage in your new book, The Wisdom of Charli ?”
“Could be.”
“Well, it’s a negative-feedback loop that you’re caught in. The future doesn’t have to trample. You’re scared, and it sucks, to be honest.”
Charli pulls on her shirt and stands. “This is all I have to offer. We don’t have to hang out today if you don’t want to, but I’m not looking for something past tomorrow.”
He climbs off the bed and stalks into the bathroom, closes the door. She hears the shower come on. She goes to the window and fights off a cry.
Hours later, they’re back at the Chesil Rectory, sitting at the exact same table under wooden beams that had been holding up the ceiling for nearly a thousand years. As she’s learned, the English celebrate Sunday by having a roast dinner. And it’s not even noon yet, so “dinner” doesn’t feel like the right word. She opts for the vegetarian nut roast, and it’s exquisite. And there are potatoes and onions, the same bread she had the night before, and Yorkshire pudding. She imagined something else from Yorkshire pudding. In reality, it’s basically a popover. And it’s jaw-droppingly good.
Charli’s had time to recover and is back to the person she’s good at pretending to be. And Noah is being a good boy, accepting the inevitability of their separation.
“You look happier than you were earlier,” he says.
“This is the best meal I’ve ever had in my life,” Charli says honestly, content with putting all her attention on her plate.
“You said that last night.”
“They’ve outdone themselves.” The food is helping keep the demons at bay.
She’s no good at apologies but forces herself to say, “Sorry about earlier. I must have been hangry.”
“Yeah, you certainly surprised me.”
She eyes him. “Please don’t rain on my parade while I enjoy this meal.”
“Fair enough.”
It’s almost as if her mother is watching, because Charli’s phone buzzes in her purse. Georgina has texted. Call me back!!!!!
Charli turns the phone over and pushes it away. “Sorry, that’s my mom.”
“Everything okay?”
Charli scoffs. “I don’t know that anything is ever okay with her.” Her mother has managed to kill her good mood.
After the meal they walk up a hill, where they enjoy a breathtaking view of Winchester and the rolling hills that surround it. The air seems thinner up here. He leans against a tree and gestures for her to join him. As she does, he asks, “So talking about us at all is off limits?”
With his simple question, she tightens. “Do we have to do this again? Nothing’s changed. We live thousands of miles apart. Why set ourselves up for failure?”
“That’s such bullshit. I promised myself I wouldn’t push you anymore, but I can’t help it. How do you not see what we have?”
Charli shrugs. Why can’t he leave it alone? “What, I come see you once a year? Then you come see me? You’re a nice guy. I like being with you. But you have to take logistics into the equation.”
“Why put rules on it? We just see what happens.”
“You must have been desperate before I came to town,” she finally says, deciding not to take him seriously. “You’re the one who says there are no women here.”
He sighs to the clouds. “Don’t make a joke out of this—don’t do that. Please stop your unbearable attempts to mask how you feel with humor.”
She doesn’t like to be psychoanalyzed. Just ask her therapist. “Trust me,” she says. “I will let you down. That’s what I do.” She can’t believe how her negativity can go from zero to sixty in a second.
He picks up a stick and tosses it in the grass ahead. “Whatever it is you’re running from, it’s not me.”
Her mother starts laughing in her head. Told you so, Charli.
“Sorry, Noah.”
“So that’s it,” he says. “You’re going to leave tomorrow, and we never talk again.”
“We can text sometimes.”
“We can text sometimes? How bloody great. I’m so glad we met, Charli. More so, I appreciate that you’re opening up and being so real with me. Here’s a hint. I like you even at your worst.”
“You haven’t seen my worst,” she said with a nearly venomous hiss. “Trust me, this ...” She makes a circle around her body with her finger. “This is the best of me. It falls apart from here. I’m saving you a whole lot of trouble.”
Her mother is going after her now. It’s your father’s fault, sticking me with a brat like you. I told him I didn’t want kids, but he kept nagging me.
Noah raises his hand. “Look, let’s head back. I’m not going to spend the entire day living some kind of lie between us. If you want this to end, let’s cut it off now.”
“That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to say.” She springs to her feet, ready to head home. “Thank you for finally listening.”
He shoots her a stubborn and frustrated glare. His jaw is tight; his head shakes.
As with a rotting limb, it’s better to cut it off now.
Not a word is shared between them as they descend the hill and return to town. When they reach the river, they cross over it, and then he looks at her. “I’m going to head home. Don’t worry, I’ll stay out of your way until you’re gone tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” she whispers.
He starts and stops a few more times. She wishes he’d give up.
“It doesn’t have to be this way,” he finally says.
He’s such a nice guy, and she wishes she could be more compassionate right now. She doesn’t want it to end like this. But she doesn’t know how else to say goodbye. This one is going to hurt no matter how they do it. The sooner it’s over, the better.
It’s all she can do to say: “Goodbye, Noah. If I don’t see your family, tell them thanks.”
He finally breaks eye contact and turns away. She watches him walk down the hill and along the river. When he’s gone, she turns and breaks into an unbearable cry. He’s shattered her and doesn’t even know it. And she hates herself for ruining it, for not letting them enjoy their last day together. She hates herself so much for ruining everything she touches. And for letting her mother win. She’s twenty-nine years old, and her mother is still winning.