23. Tilly
23
Tilly
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Dad asks as we pull onto the main road and leave Jake’s property behind us.
“Yep,” I say, my throat feeling tight.
He shoots me a glance, clearly not convinced by my words. “No, you’re not.”
“I’m fine, really,” I croak, fighting back the tears.
“Tilly.”
“Dad. Please. I don’t want to talk about it.”
And so we don’t, and Dad doesn’t say another word all the way back to the house.
“Tilly,” he says as I yank my suitcase out of the truck. “Please, darlin’. Tell me what’s going on? Did you and Jake have a fight?”
I shake my head. “No. The opposite, actually.”
Dad frowns. “I don’t understand.”
“Me, neither.” I laugh mirthlessly. “I need to be by myself for a while, though, if that’s okay.”
He looks down at me sadly and then nods. “Alright, darlin’. But your mom and I are both worried.”
“I’ll be fine,” I lie.
I skip having to deal with Mom, and with suitcase in hand, I head straight to the barn, locking the door behind me. Dumping the case on the floor, I run up the stairs, throw myself onto the old mattress, and burst into tears.
The sobs burst from my chest as I feel like my world is crumbling around me. My body jerks as I gasp for breath, but the tears are relentless, and I can’t do anything but let them flow. My heart is broken, my mind is numb, and I cry for a long time.
It’s sometime later when I calm down. Not that I move from the bed. In fact, I’m curled up on my side, gazing, unseeing, into nothingness. The soft blanket presses into the skin of my cheek, but other than that, I can feel nothing at all.
This was not how I expected things to go.
When I went to see Mel earlier, we came up with a plan. Of course, she was sad that I might be returning to the city. She was also certain that I’d reconnected with everyone here and thought I was going to stay. But I was confused and at a total loss as to what I should do.
It took several cups of coffee to get through it, but at the start, when I told her about the promotion, Mel was stunned.
“You’re going back? But I thought… I mean, what about Jake?”
“That’s the very reason I’m here,” I said, dumping myself on her sofa.
“Okay,” she said, lowering herself into the chair opposite. “Lay it all out for me.”
So I did. I gave her all the details, holding nothing back. I told her about the conversation between me and Jake at the hoedown. I told her how well things had been going between us. I told her about the moments we’d shared. She knew some of it. Mel is my best friend, and we don’t really keep anything from each other. But I wanted her to hear all the details so she could understand and figure out a way to help me.
Then I told her about my job. Going into all the reasons this promotion was important to me, I told her how tough the competition was and that it was a pretty big opportunity. I told her how long I’d been waiting for it, and that I hadn’t expected to get it for some time yet. She already knows how much I love my job. And now, I was being offered a position I would love even more.
When I eventually came to the end, I flopped back against the sofa and looked at her.
“I don’t know what to do, Mel. Do I give up the job to be with Jake? I don’t even know if Jake wants to be with me again. But if I leave now without asking him, am I going to regret it? If I ask him, and he says he doesn’t want me here, I don’t think I can take that kind of rejection.”
For a long time, Mel didn’t say anything. I could see her mind working overtime, and then eventually, she said, “I think you need to give you and Jake a chance. If you don’t, you’ll spend your entire life wondering if it could have worked.”
“But I don’t even know if he feels the same way,” I countered.
Mel gave me a knowing look. “You know he feels something.”
“Sure, but I don’t know for certain. And I don’t want him thinking that I’m giving him an ultimatum. What am I supposed to say? It’s you or the job? I’ve hurt him enough. I just can’t do that to him again.”
“Okay. Well, how about this? You go back to the ranch, and you tell him about the promotion. If he wants you to stay, if he feels for you like you clearly feel for him—which I’m pretty sure he does—he’ll tell you. Right?”
“But I’m still putting him on the spot.”
Mel shook her head. “No. You’re not. Just tell him what you told me about the job. You’re leaving it up to him then.”
It sounded good at the time.
When I went back to the ranch, I was nervous. There was a lot riding on this conversation, and while I knew what I wanted the outcome to be, I was terrified it wasn’t going to work out that way.
Admittedly, that’s why I took the beers with me. I needed something to bolster my nerves. But as I sat there, randomly sipping at my beer and explaining the reason I was going to be heading back to the city, Jake didn’t flinch. I mean, there was no real reaction. Well, actually, that’s not true. He told me he was happy for me.
Somewhere along the way, he asked about Bryan, and when I admitted that he’d left, he seemed relieved. I suppose I should have expected that, but then my mind wondered if his relief was just as much to do with the fact that I no longer needed to be there.
For someone who supposedly feels something for me, like Mel had said, his response was minimal at best. There was no begging me to stay. In fact, he didn’t mention us at all, like none of the moments we had shared ever happened.
Even at the end, when I asked him if we were friends, giving him an opportunity to tell me if he wanted something more, he didn’t take it. I mean, I left the option wide open, but all I got was radio silence. That, and a passing remark about the fact that we’ll always be friends.
I have to wonder if I’ve gone mad. Had I seen things that weren’t there? And what about that kiss? Had it all been for show? There’s no other explanation. I’ll give Jake his due: he played his part more than well. But I suppose I’ve done nothing but cause him trouble since I arrived. He nearly ended up fighting Bryan at the hoedown, and Jake isn’t the fighting type.
Running away from Bryan was supposed to be just that: putting some distance between me and my controlling ex. But as fate would have it, I upended Jake’s quiet life, his simple existence, injecting my drama into his solace.
So, yes. Maybe he’s glad to see the back of me.
A light knock on the barn door disturbs me from my numbness, and then I hear Mom’s soft voice.
“Tilly.”
“I’m up here.”
My throat is dry and my voice sounds foreign, still loaded with the grief I feel. Because it is grief I’m feeling. I thought there was another chance for me and Jake, and now, for the second time, I’m leaving Baskington without him in my life.
My heart is broken into a million pieces, and there’s not a darn thing I can do about it. Besides, it’s my own fault. I held out hope for another chance at something I destroyed all those years ago.
Karma works in mysterious ways, right?
Mom slowly climbs the stairs, and when she reaches the top, her face crumples.
“Oh, Tilly,” she sighs.
She comes and sits on the bed, and lifting my head up, I lay it back on her lap. Then I feel her hand gently stroking my hair.
Neither of us says anything for ages. I don’t have it in me to speak, and surprisingly, Mom seems to know that I don’t need to hear her advice right now. Maybe I haven’t given her enough credit in the past. Maybe she’s not as ditzy as I’ve always thought.
“When I married your father,” she says, quite some time later, “I always knew he was too good for me.”
“Mom,” I cry.
“Hear me out, Tilly,” she says calmly. “Like you and Jake, we were high school sweethearts, but I knew he was smarter than me. He’s always been a clever man—intelligent, you know?”
I nod against her leg.
“But your father saw something in me that I didn’t see back then. I still struggle to see it, but he reminds me all the time. He tells me I’m special, and beautiful, and the best thing that ever happened to him.”
“And you are, Mom. All of those things.”
“The thing is, Tilly,” she continues, “so are you. You have your father’s brains, no one can deny that, but you have my heart and capacity for love. But you’re not like me. You’ve always known your own mind. You’ve always known what you wanted.”
“Not always, Mom,” I reply.
“Well, alright, maybe not always, but most of the time. You go out and get what you want, Tilly. You always have.”
“It’s not as simple as that. It’s not just about me.” I push myself up and look at her sadly. “I broke his heart and hurt him, Mom. Maybe he just can’t put himself in the position for me to do that again.”
“Oh, sweetie,” she sighs, pulling me in close to her.
We sit like that for a while, and then she announces that she’s going to get dinner ready.
“I’m not hungry.”
Mom turns as she stands at the top of the stairs. “But it’ll be our last meal together before you leave.”
How can I turn her down with that weighing on my shoulders?
“Alright.” I nod. “I’ll come in soon.”
The next morning, I hug them both goodbye. Dad wanted to drive me to the airport, but I wouldn’t hear of it. Instead, my taxi is outside, waiting on me.
“I love you guys. I’ll be back again soon.”
Mom nods, a tear in her eye, and Dad clenches his jaw, trying not to show any emotion. They’re not sad because I’m leaving. They’re sad because I’m sad. Well, sad is a bit of an understatement, really. I’m devastated.
I haul my suitcase out of the front door and head to the cab. My driver jumps out and takes it to put into the trunk. I’m about to climb in the back when I take a last long look up the street, a sliver of hope in my heart that Jake’s truck might come flying around the corner at any second.
But it doesn’t. So, with a final sad wave at my parents, I slip into the back seat and the driver pulls away.