17. Chapter 17
Adam
The familiar streets of Mount Pella blur past me.
The fading light casts long shadows, the gray sky matching my mood.
My eyelids droop, feeling a dull throb in my temples from the sleepless nights that have been piling up since the day I boarded that damn ship.
The hollow ache in my chest gnaws at me.
During the day I can throw myself into work and distract myself, but the quiet of my apartment at night only drives home this inescapable truth: Caitlin is gone, and she isn’t coming back.
She made that crystal clear when she refused to see me after that first day at her aunt and uncle’s house.
I’d lingered in Cedar City like a ghost, calling, texting, even showing up at her family’s restaurant where she’d started working, only to be firmly turned away each time.
Eventually, her uncle Peter had approached me outside my motel room, his voice gentle but his eyes hard.
“Son, it’s time for you to go home. She’s made her decision.
” And so here I am, back in the life I chose over her, wondering how I’m going to survive without her by my side.
It feels like the trap that’s been slowly closing since high school has finally snapped shut, with me firmly in its grasp.
Stay here, the voices say. Run your father’s business.
Marry Millie. Be the man everyone expects you to be.
You have responsibilities. I crank up the radio, hoping to drown out my thoughts, but my mind keeps replaying that moment in her aunt and uncle’s living room, Caitlin’s voice steady and sure: “What we had is over. It’s done. ”
I’d heard the words, but some stubborn part of me refused to believe them.
Even now, I keep checking my phone at stoplights, hoping to see her name on my screen.
But there’s nothing from her, just an ever-growing stack of notifications from my mother, from Hailey, from Rhonda, from Millie.
All the people I prioritized over the one person who actually mattered.
By the time I pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex, my phone has buzzed at least fifteen more times.
I ignore it, dragging myself up the stairs.
The apartment feels empty in a way it never did before, even when Caitlin was at work and I was alone.
Her absence is palpable, almost like a presence in itself.
I drop my bag by the door and stand in the middle of the living room.
Everything in here reminds me of her. Her favorite throw blanket still sits on the recliner where she’d curl up at night to read her Kindle.
I know if I pick it up, I’ll still smell her perfume on it.
The table I gave her in Colorado still holds pride of place in our small living room.
The potted herbs she’d used in her cooking sit on the kitchen counter, still alive despite my neglect.
The flowers I bought her the day before I left for Miami are still in a vase on the kitchen table, the dead leaves and petals covering the table.
I pick up the framed photo of us in Colorado that she’d left behind.
We look so happy, sun-kissed and grinning, the mountains rising behind us.
I’d felt invincible that day, like I could take on anything with her by my side.
Now I just feel hollow, my chest a cave that echoes with my every heartbeat.
I’ve taken to carrying the picture around the apartment when I’m home, wishing desperately I could wind back time, go back to that moment and cherish her the way I should have.
My phone buzzes again, persistent as a mosquito. Finally, I pull it out and see six missed calls from my mother, three from Hailey, and four from Millie. There are voicemails too, and texts that I can see snippets of:
From Mom: Adam, call me back. I’m worried about you. We need to talk about…
From Hailey: Millie’s really upset. Can you just call her? She’s been crying all…
From Millie: I know you’re hurting, but I’m here for you. I always have been. Let me…
I delete them all without listening or reading further. I know exactly what they’ll say; that I’m better off without Caitlin, that she was never right for me, that now I can move on to the life they had planned for me all along. The thought makes me nauseous.
I toss my phone onto the couch and head for the shower, hoping hot water might wash away some of the guilt that clings to me like a second skin.
Under the spray, I close my eyes and see Caitlin’s face, the way she looked when she told me she was staying, buying her grandmother’s house, building a life without me.
She’d looked peaceful, certain. More herself than she had in months.
And that’s the worst part, knowing that I’d been slowly erasing her, piece by piece, letting my family and Millie crowd her out until she couldn’t breathe.
After the shower, I pull on clean clothes and glance at my phone again.
Three more missed calls. I turn it off completely and grab my keys.
I can’t stay in this apartment with its ghosts and memories.
I need to talk to the one person who might understand, who isn’t invested in pushing me back into the role I never wanted.
I need to talk to Lauren.
The drive to Lauren’s house takes me past familiar landmarks, the high school where Millie and I were crowned homecoming royalty, the restaurant I first took Caitlin too when we moved here (and where the waitress had gushed repeatedly about cute Millie and I had been together in high school), the park where I’d spent countless hours with the Greene family during summer picnics.
Everything here is saturated with history, with expectations.
I can’t look at a single street corner without seeing the shadow of who I was supposed to be.
Lauren’s house sits on a quiet street lined with maple trees, their bare branches reaching toward a gray sky that threatens snow.
Her car isn’t in the driveway, but Jake’s truck is.
I hesitate for a moment before getting out.
Jake and I have always gotten along fine, but we’ve never been particularly close.
Still, right now, anyone who isn’t my mother or Millie seems like a safe harbor.
I knock, and Jake answers, surprise registering on his face before he masks it with a welcoming smile. “Hey Adam. Come on in.” He steps aside to let me in. “Lauren’s not home from work yet. She stopped to get some groceries.”
“Sorry for just dropping by,” I say, stepping into their warm living room. “I can come back later if—”
“Nah, man, it’s fine.” Jake closes the door behind me. “Want a beer? I was just about to grab one myself.”
I nod, relieved at the lack of questions.
Jake disappears into the kitchen and returns with two bottles, handing one to me before settling into his recliner.
I take the couch, trying not to remember the last time I was here.
Lauren and Jake had invited us over for a movie night.
I’d sat in this same spot, with Caitlin beside me, my arm around her, and she’d hidden her face against my chest during the scary scenes.
“So,” Jake says after a long pull from his beer, “Heard Oregon didn’t go as planned.”
I shake my head, staring at the bottle in my hands. “She wouldn’t even see me after that first day. Her uncle finally told me to leave.”
Jake nods slowly. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”
I look up sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He meets my gaze directly, something most people in my life don’t do when uncomfortable truths are on the table. “It means you treated her like shit, Adam. What did you expect?”
The bluntness of his words lands like a slap. I open my mouth to defend myself, then close it again. He’s right. I know he’s right. “I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten until it was too late,” I finally say, the excuse lacking even to my own ears.
Jake lets out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, that’s the thing about taking people for granted. You don’t notice until they’re gone.” He takes another sip of his beer. “For what it’s worth, Lauren and I feel pretty crappy about the whole thing too.”
“You do?” This surprises me. Lauren and Jake had always been polite to Caitlin, even friendly at times, but they’d never seemed particularly invested in our relationship.
“Yeah.” Jake looks uncomfortable. “We should have said something when your mom and Hailey were pulling that passive-aggressive crap. When Millie was always ‘in crisis’ whenever you and Caitlin had plans.” He makes air quotes around “in crisis,” his expression skeptical.
“At the time we didn’t feel it was our place, you know? And honestly…” He hesitates.
“What?” I prompt.
Jake sighs. “Honestly, we wondered if you were just using Caitlin as a buffer. To keep your mom off your back about Millie. Which still wouldn’t have been okay, by the way. But if that was the case, it wasn’t our business.”
His words hit me like a gut punch. “Using her? You thought I was using her?”
“What were we supposed to think?” Jake’s voice rises slightly.
“You ditched her constantly for Millie. You mom treated her like garbage, and you never stood up for her, not once that I saw.” He shakes his head.
“But then, when she left, you looked like someone had ripped your heart out. That’s when we realized you actually cared about her. ”
“Of course I cared about her!” I snap, setting my beer down with too much force. “I love her. I was going to marry her.”
“Then why did you let them treat her that way?” Jake asks, his voice quieter now but no less direct.
“Why abandon her for Millie on Halloween and let your friends treat her like crap? Why leave her alone on Thanksgiving? Why did you let your mom talk about her like she was some temporary mistake you’d grow out of?
How long did you expect her to put up with all that? ”
I drop my head into my hands as the questions pile on me like stones. “I don’t know,” I whisper. “I was trying to keep everyone happy. I thought if I could just balance it all, give everyone what they needed—”
“Except Caitlin,” Jake interrupts. “She didn’t get what she needed, did she?”
“No,” I admit, the word barely audible. “She didn’t.”
We sit in silence for a moment. Finally, Jake speaks again, his tone gentler.
“Look, I’m not trying to kick you when you’re down.
But Lauren’s been really torn up about this.
She considers herself a good person, you know?
Someone who stands up for what’s right. But she didn’t stand up for Caitlin, and neither did I.
Like I said, we’re both feeling pretty shitty about that. ”
I look up at him, surprised again. “Lauren feels guilty?”
Jake nods. “Yeah, man. She does. We both do.” He takes another sip of his beer. “Your family can be… a lot. Especially your mom. And we all just fall in line because it’s easier. But watching what happened with Caitlin…” He shakes his head. “It made us realize we’re part of the problem too.”
The front door opens before I can respond, and Lauren appears, her arms full of grocery bags. She stops short when she sees me, her eyes widening. “Hey Adam.”
Jake rises to help her with the bags. “I’ll put these away,” he says, taking them from her. “You two probably want to talk.” He gives her a quick kiss on the cheek and disappears into the kitchen, leaving us alone.
Lauren sinks into the chair Jake had occupied, studying my face. “You look terrible,” she says finally.
“Gee, thanks.” I attempt a smile that feels more like a grimace. “It’s been a rough week.”
She nods, her eyes sympathetic. “I heard Caitlin’s staying in Oregon.”
“Yeah.” The word comes out ragged. “She’s buying her grandmother’s house. She’s not coming back.”
Lauren is quiet for a moment, twisting a lock of her hair around her finger, a nervous habit she’s had since childhood. “I’m sorry, Adam. I know how much you cared about her.”
“Did you?” I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice. “Jake seems to think you both assumed I was just using her to keep Mom off my back about Millie.”
Lauren winces. “He told you that, huh?” She sighs. “It’s not that we thought you didn’t care about her at all. It’s just the way you acted sometimes; it was hard to believe she was really your priority.”
“She was,” I insist, then correct myself. “She is. I just… I screwed everything up. I let Mom and Millie dictate my life, and I lost the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“I know.” Lauren’s voice is soft. “And I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. When Mom was being awful to her, when Millie was always showing up or calling with some emergency. I knew it was wrong, but I just… I stayed quiet. Like I always do.”
The pain in her voice mirrors my own. “Why do we do that?” I ask. “Why do we let them run our lives?”
Lauren shrugs, a small, sad gesture. “It’s easier, I guess. The path of least resistance.” Her eyes meet mine. “But I’m realizing easier isn’t always better.”
“No,” I agree. “It’s not.”
We’re quiet for a moment, both of us lost in our own thoughts. Finally, I take a deep breath. “Lauren, I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want. About the future. But before I get into that, I need to ask you something.”
She tilts her head, curious. “Okay.”
“Doesn’t it bother you that Dad insisted on having me take over the family business when he retired?
I mean, you’ve been working there since high school.
You’ve got the same business degree I do.
You know the company inside and out. You’re the natural choice to take over.
But he never even considered it, did he? ”
Lauren blinks, clearly surprised by the change in topic. She’s quiet for so long I wonder if she’s going to answer at all. Finally, she sighs. “Of course it bothers me, Adam. But Dad wanted his business to go to his son. That’s just how he is.”
“But it’s not fair,” I press. “You’d be better at it than I am. You actually want to run the company. I never did.”
“Life isn’t fair,” she says with a resigned shrug. “I decided a long time ago not to let it bother me.”
I lean forward, holding her gaze. “Maybe it should bother you. Maybe it should bother both of us. Because you’re the one who deserved to inherit the company, Lauren. Not me.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I’ve been thinking about what I really want. About the man I really want to be, not who everyone else wants me to be.” I take a deep breath. “And I have a business proposition for you.”
Lauren sits up straighter, her expression a mix of confusion and cautious interest. “I’m listening.”