Chapter 21 #2
Part of me wants to answer. Part of me wants to hear his voice, let him explain, believe whatever story he tells me. That’s the part that believed him on the pier. The part that laughed when that fish slapped him in the face. The part that’s apparently a sucker for punishment.
But I’ve believed before. I’ve stayed before. And every single time, I’ve ended up exactly where I am right now, alone, packing a bag, running away from something that was supposed to be good.
I pull open my closet. The dress I wore to book club hangs there, next to the jeans I put on this morning thinking today would be a normal day. Thinking Levi would come home tomorrow and we’d figure things out and everything would be fine.
I was so stupid.
I grab a few more things. Throw them in the bag without folding them.
The house is quiet. Mom’s still at bridge club. There’s no one to stop me, no one to talk sense into me, no one to tell me I’m being ridiculous.
Maybe I am being ridiculous. Maybe I should wait for him to explain. Maybe I should give him a chance.
But every time I think about staying, I see that photo. I hear Penelope’s voice. I feel the familiar panic rising in my chest, the certainty that this is going to hurt, and the only way to survive is to leave before it does.
I’ve been here before. In my marriage, when I realized I’d rather be anywhere else. And now here, in Twin Waves, with a man who promised me he’d come back.
His mom promised too. She said she’d send for him. She said it was temporary.
She never came back.
And here’s the thing I keep trying not to think about: the wedding is in three weeks. That’s why he’s here. That’s the whole reason he came back to Twin Waves, for Dean and Jo. Not for me. He said it himself when he first arrived. “I’ll be here until May.”
Until May.
And then what? He goes back to LA, back to the label and Mia Monroe and women who look like they belong on magazine covers. Back to a life that has no room for a florist with a Honda and a dog who eats garbage.
The wedding was always the expiration date. I just didn’t want to see it.
What if Mia Monroe is just the beginning? What if every time he goes back to LA, there’s another photo and another headline, another woman who looks at him like he hung the moon?
I can’t do this. I can’t sit here and wait for him to break my heart.
Better to break my own. At least then I control the timing.
I write a note for Mom. Keep it short: Had to go. I’ll call you when I figure things out. I’m sorry. I love you.
I put it on the kitchen table, next to the casserole she made for me. The casserole that’s probably cold by now. The dinner we were supposed to share.
I think about all the dinners we’ve shared since I moved back, all the nights we sat at this table and talked about nothing and everything. All the times she looked at me like she was just happy I was home.
I’m about to ruin that too.
But I can’t stop myself.
I grab my bag, my keys, and my dog.
The Honda starts on the first try. Small mercies. The check engine light flickers on like an old friend welcoming me to another bad decision.
Ruffy is in the passenger seat, looking at me like I’ve disappointed him personally. Join the club, buddy.
I pull out of the driveway. Past the houses I’ve gotten to know over the past months, the Hendersons who always wave when they see me, the Carters whose daughter just got engaged. The old Victorian on the corner that someone’s been renovating for what seems like forever.
I pass the flower shop, dark now, closed up for the night. My mother’s shop. The one she chose over me, all those years ago.
And here I am, proving that I’m the one who couldn’t stay.
The pier comes into view, lit up by streetlights. The same pier where Levi kissed me when we were teenagers, where he told me about his mother, where we watched a fish escape into the water and I let myself hope.
I don’t slow down.
Past the marina where Jo got her bridal photos taken. Past the Salty Pearl, where we had dinner that night and I thought, Maybe this is it. Maybe I finally found where I belong.
Turns out I don’t belong anywhere. I just visit places until I wear out my welcome and then move on. Like a really sad traveling circus, but with fewer elephants and more emotional baggage.
My phone is still vibrating in my bag. I can hear it, muffled by fabric and leather. Levi’s voice, probably, on another voicemail or text asking me to talk to him. Another promise that he can explain.
I don’t reach for it.
The “Thanks for Visiting Twin Waves” sign appears in my headlights. Cheerful blue letters on a white background. Come Back Soon!
I slow down as I pass it.
I think about Jo’s wedding, which I’m supposed to do the flowers for, and book club next month with the book we were supposed to discuss. I think about Lucky Susan’s husband, who might actually propose now, and how I’ll never know if it worked.
I think about Mom, coming home from bridge club to an empty house and a note that explains nothing. And Levi, racing home on a private jet to find me gone.
And for a moment, just a moment, I consider turning around.
But I don’t.
I keep driving.
The sign shrinks in my rearview mirror until I can’t see it anymore.
I don’t know where I’m going. I just know I can’t stay.
That’s always been my problem.
Ruffy whines softly. I reach over and scratch his head without taking my eyes off the road.
“Yeah, buddy. This is a mess.” I swallow hard. “But at least we’re in it together.”
He sighs and puts his head on my lap. Dogs are better than people. They don’t ask questions you can’t answer.
The road stretches out ahead of me, dark and empty. The same road I’ve driven a hundred times before, away from things and people, away from the possibility of getting hurt.
Somewhere behind me, Levi is probably still calling. Still texting. Still trying to figure out what went wrong.
He’ll figure it out eventually. He’ll see the photo and understand.
And then maybe he’ll realize what I already know.
I was never going to stay.
I don’t know how.
The miles tick by. Ruffy eventually settles down, his head resting on his paws, accepting that we’re going wherever we’re going.
I wish I could accept it that easily.
But even as I drive, even as Twin Waves disappears behind me, there’s a voice in my head that sounds nothing like Penelope.
It sounds like Levi.
Don’t run.
I grip the steering wheel tighter.
And I keep going.
Somewhere around midnight, I realize where I’m headed. Not consciously, my hands just know. The same way they knew when I was twenty-seven and heartbroken. The same way they knew when I was seven and my world fell apart.
Asheville.
Dad.
It doesn’t matter that he’s been gone for a year. It doesn’t matter that he can’t answer me anymore. He’s the one I always ran to. The parent who never made me feel guilty for leaving. The one who let me be angry at Mom without ever asking me to forgive her.
I need him now, even if all that’s left is a headstone and a patch of grass.
It’s what I always do.
Run to the parent who can’t fix anything.