Chapter 33
From the moment Jonah awakened at dawn, he was filled with dread. He lay in bed feeling miserable. Lauren was leaving Pinehaven
around nine o’clock. He’d have to leave soon—he’d insisted on coming at eight to help pack her car because he was just a glutton
for punishment like that.
He glanced out his bedroom window, hoping for an unforecasted snowstorm to delay her departure. No such luck. Just a dusting.
Less than two hours from now he’d be saying his final good-byes. He didn’t know how he would hold it together. It felt like
his heart was being ripped from his chest.
Lauren had been a little more guarded the past couple days. Had even avoided him on a few occasions, possibly hoping to put
some distance between them before the actual separation. That sounded like her. He’d tried not to take it personally.
His stomach was churning with acid—had churned all night, in fact, and the familiar pain kept him tossing and turning. He
got up and went to retrieve his heartburn medication. He chewed up three tablets and hoped they helped more than they had
yesterday.
His last class was complete, finals taken. He was all set to assume management of the resort. And somehow his future had never
seemed so bleak.
Jonah had a long pep talk with himself on his way to the resort. He would put on a good face. It wouldn’t be fair to burden Lauren with his heartbreak. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t love him anymore. She deserved the bright future awaiting her. She deserved that dream job for which she’d worked so hard. She deserved to have the life she wanted.
Even if it didn’t include him.
He clenched his teeth against the rising tide of anguish. He would send her off well if it killed him. And it just might.
He pulled into the resort drive, the happy faces of the Christmas cutouts mocking him. He couldn’t see them without remembering
their road trip—that dilapidated motel and the mouse that had sent her soaring into his arms. Her beaming smile and melodious
laughter as she sailed across the parking lot in those Heelys.
A band tightened around his heart until he feared it might strangle him to death. How could something hurt so much and not
kill him? He didn’t know it was possible to feel this much pain and go on breathing.
All these weeks he’d been telling himself she could still get her memory back. But it had been more than three months now
and not a single memory had resurfaced. He had to let go of that fantasy or he’d drive himself crazy, hoping. It was time
to accept reality and learn, somehow, to be okay with it.
He pulled into the lodge parking lot ten minutes early. He would gather himself on the walk to her cabin, then distract himself
by loading her belongings. And then afterward, the good-bye...
He glanced in the rearview mirror and tried to assemble his features in a way that didn’t betray his every feeling. “This
is what she wants,” he said to his reflection. “What she’s earned. She deserves your support.”
Loving her before the accident had been so fun. So easy. Falling for her had felt like the most natural thing in the world.
He wanted her, he wooed her, he won her. Of course she’d wanted the relationship too.
That was what made this so hard. She didn’t want it now, but that didn’t erase his love for her. This kind of love—the sort that involved letting go—felt unnatural and impossibly difficult. But he loved her enough to do just that. Through this trial his love for her had grown and stretched, like the roots of a scorched plant searching for water.
The realization didn’t feel like much of a parting gift.
It was time to see her off. He schooled his expression. There would be time for grieving once she was gone. He exited his
car, his footsteps weighted with dread as he started across the property.
***
Lauren gave the room one last glance. She had everything, she was sure of it. But a part of her dreaded leaving this cabin
for the final time. It had been her home for nine months. Even if she didn’t remember four of them, they seemed somehow deeply
ingrained in every cell of her body.
Late last evening she’d walked to the barn with Tom and Tammy and gone over last-minute details. It was Lauren’s first time
seeing the place lit up at night, the way it would be for most of their future events. The twinkle lights and draped white
tulle softened the interior just as she’d hoped. And the towering stone fireplace was a magnificent focal point.
The whole room was downright magical. Any bride would be thrilled to be married or host her reception here. So many happy
memories would be made in this building. She just wouldn’t be here to see them. The thought sent a pang of regret pinging
through her like a pinball through a machine.
She shook away the melancholy thought as she slipped on her coat. Then she grabbed the box, her purse, and laptop bag. “Come
on, Graham. Time to go.”
Tail wagging, the dog followed her outside.
She shut the door behind them and it latched with a cold click of finality. She’d pulled the car right up to the cabin to load it, remembering like yesterday when she’d moved in. Who could’ve known this place, these people, would have such a big impact on her?
Don’t think about that right now. Just get through this—you can mourn later.
She had to stay strong. It was time to drive over to the lodge and say her last good-byes to Tom, Tammy, and Jonah, who should
be arriving shortly.
She’d parted ways with Meg last night after she’d met up with their single friends from church one last time. The woman had
clung to her for a long moment, telling Lauren in a husky voice that she’d better keep in touch. Lauren wanted that. Meg had
become like a little sister to her these past couple months. But Lauren wondered if staying in touch would only make it harder
to let go of Jonah.
She opened the passenger door. She just wanted to get this over with and get on the road. Then she could focus on her new
job. On her new life.
She was putting her things inside when Jonah’s voice called out, “Good morning.”
She backed from the car’s interior. “Morning.”
Graham greeted Jonah as if he hadn’t seen him in months.
Jonah seemed somber despite the grin plastered across his face. His breath fogged in the morning air. He looked so handsome
as he offered Graham some affection. He’d barely made eye contact with her, which was probably why his gaze settled so quickly
on the car. It was hard to miss the back seat, piled high with all her things.
Jonah straightened, the semblance of a smile wilting from his lips. “You’re all packed up?”
“I was awake early this morning and decided to go ahead and get loaded.” She glanced back at the cabin. “It’s all clean and ready for you.” At the end of the month, Jonah would be moving onto the property to assume the management position.
“You’re all ready to go?” His voice held a ragged edge.
Her throat constricted as if someone had tightened a corset around it. She shrugged. “No sense dragging this out.”
He winced.
She wished she could call back the insensitive words. But this good-bye would be hard for all of them. She had to somehow
keep her composure.
She was an old pro at that. She opened her driver’s door. “We were just heading over to the lodge to say good-bye.”
Jonah stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. “Right. I’ll walk over with Graham and meet you there?”
“Sure.” She got into the car and started it up, watching Jonah take off across the property, Graham on his heels.
Two minutes later she was parking in the lot, her heart beating out a steady tattoo at what lay ahead. As she exited the car
Graham bounded over.
Jonah had grabbed a snow shovel. “You can go on in if you want. I’m gonna clear the walk.”
There was barely an inch of snow and it would likely be gone by noon. “Okay.”
She headed inside where a fire was already crackling in the fireplace. The strains of “Silent Night” carried softly through
the lobby speakers.
The stairs creaked as Tammy and Tom descended from their apartment, and Graham rushed to greet them, nails clicking on the
wood floor.
Tammy’s gaze fixed on Lauren. “We thought we heard you pull up. You can’t already be packed and loaded.”
“I got an early start.”
Her brow furrowed. “But Jonah isn’t here yet.”
“He’s outside shoveling the walk.”
They reached the bottom of the stairs and headed her way, Tammy with her small, quick strides and Tom with his lumbering gait.
Tammy made a beeline for Lauren and wrapped her arms around her, holding tight. “You can’t leave. You just can’t.”
“Tammy,” Tom said.
“Well, she’s part of the family now. We’re just supposed to let her go?”
“She has a life in Boston. It’s her choice. Let loose of the girl, sweetheart. You’re gonna squeeze her to death.”
Tammy drew back, her teary gaze clinging to Lauren. “I wish you’d at least stay for Christmas, honey. It just won’t be the
same without you.”
“I hate to miss it, but I should get settled into my apartment before my new job starts.” Lauren hadn’t planned to say anything
touchy-feely. Her emotions were on edge and she didn’t want to chance it. But they’d been so good to her and it wouldn’t be
right to say good-bye without letting them know how much they meant to her.
She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Thank you for everything, both of you. You’ve been wonderful and I’ll miss you
all so much.”
“Oh, honey...”
Tom stepped forward for an awkward hug. He gave her back a few pats and drew away. “You’ve been a joy to have around, Lauren.
We sure do wish you the best of luck.”
“Thank you. That means the world. And please take care of yourself, Tom.”
He grumbled.
“Listen to your wife—she loves you.” Lauren moved to more comfortable ground. “And if you have any questions about the barn
or anything else, feel free to reach out.”
“We will,” Tammy said. “We’re so grateful for everything you did here—all the improvements and ideas, and the barn. That Olivia
is getting quite the deal. I’ll make sure she knows it.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome here anytime, sweetheart. If you just need a place to get away for a couple days, you come right on up. We’ll make room for you.”
Lauren couldn’t see that happening. But it was sweet of her to offer. “Thank you, I appreciate it. Well, I guess we’d better
get on the road.” She turned for the door, calling for Graham.
The dog trotted to the door, oblivious that he was about to leave this place, these people, for the last time. She was so
jealous of his ignorance.
Tom and Tammy stayed put, probably wanting to give Jonah and her a chance to say their farewells in private.
With a final wave and a wobbly smile aimed their way, Lauren exited the lodge.
She didn’t even have time for a deep, steadying breath because there was Jonah scraping the shovel across the patch of walkway
closest to the lot. His cheeks were flushed, his hair windblown. He tossed the snow aside, then leaned the shovel against
a tree trunk and turned her way. He tried for a brave face but didn’t quite get there—his eyes betrayed his struggle.
She knew the feeling. The lump in her throat grew into a boulder as her feet carried her toward him, seemingly of their own
volition. And then she was in his arms, trembling inside and praying he couldn’t tell how very much she didn’t want to let
go of him.
He held her tight, his breath warming the top of her head, his lungs expanding against her chest.
Keep it together. Now is not the time to lose it.
“I’ll miss you,” he whispered.
That didn’t even begin to cover it. “Me too. Thank you for”— befriending me, being patient with me, loving me —“everything.”
“You’re gonna do great at your new job. They’re lucky to have you—don’t you forget that.” He drew away too soon, that brave
smile propped in place, his jaw like granite. “I don’t want to hold you up.”
“It’s pretty cold out here.” She emphasized the thought by huddling awkwardly into her coat when she would’ve gladly stayed in his embrace for hours.
He opened the passenger door for Graham, who hopped in. Jonah gave the dog a final scratch. Then he shut the door, came around
the car, and opened the driver’s side door for her.
She brushed past him, not allowing herself to make eye contact, because her emotions were bubbling dangerously close to the
surface.
“Drive carefully.”
“I will.”
He shut the door as Lauren buckled up. Then she started the car and put it in Reverse. She didn’t glance his way until she’d
put the car in Drive. He looked so stoic standing there, shoulders rigid, jaw tight. Her Jonah. Pain unfurled in her chest,
overwhelming, unrelenting.
Tearing her gaze away, she accelerated. She barely made it to the end of the driveway before hot tears trickled down her face.