Chapter 8 Colby
eight
Colby
Going two weeks without her is agony. But the second Dani swept out of my apartment, I felt it. That crushing sense of defeat.
I fucked it.
I stood paralyzed in the moment, uncertain what I should’ve done.
Should I have chased her down? Apologized?
What for?
I didn’t regret what happened between us, but there was a part of me that felt a little guilty.
Did that feel like regret? Did it look like it?
I didn’t know.
All I know is for two weeks, I’ve tried to stick to my routine. I tried to move on from the moment when everything turned from blissful to blistering, but I keep circling back to her.
Dulce skitters around my feet, snuffing out a sneeze and looking up at me with accusation in her eyes when I pick up my latte—warm now that the temperatures are cooling.
She pulls against the leash, trying to lead me back to the coffeeshop, but I click my tongue and wave a treat at her.
It doesn’t escape my notice that they’ve started leaving dog treats in an open jar by the counter or that a water bowl now sits by the to-go station.
Thoughtful. Just like Dani.
“I know, girl. I miss her, too.”
My mornings aren’t the same without a quick spiel at the espresso machine while I wait for her to whip up a drink.
I find myself looking for her from my window. Not to be all stalker-y, but out of curiosity.
And when I catch myself doing it, I have to admit it’s comforting to watch her work, even from across the street. In no time at all, she’s become part of the new routine I’ve built without even realizing.
But judging by the way she’s taken to hiding in the back when I come in the morning and from the way she closes the blinds at night, I’m guessing she’s not ready to hear from me yet.
It’s just that I’m done waiting around.
My gaze falls to another flyer I picked up in town.
This one advertising the art walk with calls for townspeople to join in on pumpkin carving, try their hand at needlepoint, or learn how to make linocut prints in time for Christmas, while seeing what local artists have on offer.
Under the long list of names, I spot Dani’s and feel want pulse in my chest.
Margot used to tell me if I wanted a thing, I had to fight for the thing. The old Colby, the one Dani knew in college? That Colby would’ve let all this slide.
But I’ve learned to lean in.
To the pain, to the grief, to the thrill. To every emotion within my range.
And out of it always comes something new.
Rebirth.
I turn back to my typewriter and finish working on the scene I’ve been toying with. It’s not a full novel—not yet, anyway—but it’s a love story in the making.
It just needs an ending.
One that’s not tragic, but hopeful.
#
The tents have huge, bulbous lights strung between them in a zig-zag pattern. They cast a soft yellow-white glow over the street as people meander through the evening weekend market.
Even though it’s only six in the evening, the darkness has enveloped the town under a canopy of twinkling stars.
There are families, lovers, and children darting between the stalls. And everywhere you turn, there are pumpkins. Some carved, some not, and some are even painted.
Dulce trots alongside me, picking up more scents than I can make out between the cinnamon, apple, sugar, and nutmeg wafting out from every tent.
We pass stall after stall showing off handmade crafts, wooden carvings, and felted creatures.
But when I turn the corner and catch sight of Dani finishing up a sale of one of her canvases, I hang back.
She’s radiant and proud, a bright turquoise scarf double-wrapped around her neck and orange fingerless gloves on her hands as she passes one of her paintings to its new owner.
The bright pink hair tips act like a beacon, pulling me toward her.
When she sees me, my heart stops. I nearly trip over my own two feet because for a second, there’s nothing but pure joy on her face.
Maybe that’s because Dulce’s pulling hard at the leash and yapping with excitement. I relinquish the lead, knowing she’s not going any further than Dani’s ankles and stroll up to see her cooing at my dog.
“Hey, girl, hey. It’s nice to see you. Did you miss me?”
“I did,” I answer.
She looks up and grabs Dulce’s leash while the silly dog smushes her face all over Dani’s feet.
“Hi,” she says, offering me a tentative smile. “You made it out.”
“Yeah, I wanted to show my support for your work.” I look up at her stall, at her set up, and point at the sign that hangs from her table. “You went with your full name, after all.”
She nods, winding the leash around her hand.
“Yeah, there was this guy. He told me I should take ownership of my work. Give it my whole name, my whole self.”
I rock back on my heels and poke my cheek with my tongue.
“Oh. Sounds like a wise man.”
“I don’t know. To tell you the truth, I don’t know him that well.” She holds out Dulce’s leash to me.
I reach for it, but don’t take it. Instead, I close my hand over hers and let the warmth of my hands chase the chill from her fingers.
“Dani, you know me. And even if you don’t think you know me well enough, I want you to know me. Same as I want to know you.”
“You do already, in the biblical sense, anyway,” she snorts.
Then, her eyes widen, and we both laugh a little.
“I also came to tell you I’m sorry. I messed up at the worst possible time, and I never really explained myself to you.”
She dips her head, speaking softly, “You don’t have to.”
“I do,” I say, firmly, nudging her face back up so I can look her in the eye.
“When my wife died, it cost me more than my partner. The grief I went through stole all joy from my life. My world became very dark, and all I had left was Dulce. She was the only thing Margot left me that lives and breathes, and if it weren’t for her, I don’t know if I’d still be here.
This dog—our dog—kept me going when the days were dark and the grief unbearable. ”
“Colby,” she lays her other hand over mine, “you don’t have to tell me this if it’s too painful.”
“You need to hear it, and I need to say it. So you understand me.”
I draw a deep breath, then gesture to the array of colors surrounding us in her stall.
“Everything changed when you crashed into my life. Your bold, bright color-work captured my eye, and I fell in love.” My hand brushes against her pink cheek, and she tilts her head toward my touch. “First, with your art, and later, with you.”
She blinks those big brown eyes at me. “You… love me?”
“Yeah,” I chuckle, “I mean, it’s probably too fast, and it’s definitely inconvenient, but—”
“But nothing,” she says, shoving one finger over my lips. “I love you, too, Colby.”
Now it’s my turn to blink at her in astonishment.
“Until you, I was content to stay on the sidelines and let everyone else step into the spotlight.” She smiles and tugs at the thick scarf wrapped around her neck. “For a long time, I thought it was because everyone else put me there. But I realized after I blew up at you that you were right.”
“About what?”
“The only person who put me in shadows and kept me small… was me.” She lifts one shoulder and tips her hair back. “I shouldn’t have said what I said to you, about rebounding. I lashed out because I didn’t want to be hurt.”
My gaze searches hers, and I lean in to press a soft kiss to her brow.
“It’s okay, Dani. I see you.”
She tips her head up. “I see you, too.”
And then I kiss her under the glow of the lights as Dulce dances around us, winding us together with her leash.