11. Bella
Chapter eleven
Bella
Despite wanting to sleep and make up for the lack last night, I can’t get settled.
The same thoughts that kept me up last night keep me awake now.
It’s not going to help just to lie around, so I grab my sketchbook and a camping chair. I set up outside, getting some sun while I work on my designs.
With the gentle breeze and the warm sun, my body relaxes. I find myself dozing off with the pencil in hand. It’s just too beautiful a day to keep wondering about relationships and work and all that.
I’m just about to go back to get one of the lounging camp chairs when a shadow falls over me.
I shield my eyes and look up.
My heart drops. Steven is haloed by the sun, nearly blinding me to his identity.
“What are you doing here?” I snap, jumping to my feet.
Steven holds up his hands, his eyes widening. “I only wanted to make sure you knew that the town has a plane.”
“I know about the plane,” I answer.
“And the latest update is that the road will be clear tomorrow,” he offers weakly.
I didn’t know that. A pang hits my stomach. As eager as I am to get back to my normal life, part of me will miss Castleton.
“Thanks for the update,” I say frostily. “But we have nothing to say to each other.”
Steven runs a hand through his hair. “Bella, we have a lot to talk about. I shouldn’t have messed with your dress. I see that now. My mother convinced me…”
“No.”
“No?” he repeats.
“No, I don’t want to hear your excuses.” I struggle against my emotions. I’m trembling already. “I’m done, Steven.”
He gives me a searching look. “I got us spots on the plane to get out. We can go home and work things out. You’ve always said you want us to do counseling, and I—why are you shaking your head?”
“Because there’s nothing left to work out, Steven. When I say I’m done, I mean it.” To my humiliation, my voice starts to shake.
I’ve rehearsed what I would say to Steven when I finally got the guts to do it. I ran through dozens of scenarios.
Now that I’m actually facing him, of course, I’m going to cry.
“There is no coming back from this,” I continue. “We should have never gotten back together after the first time we broke up. That’s my fault, too. It’s time to break this cycle.”
“Bella, come on,” Steven says urgently.
He reaches for my arm, and I yank it away.
“Are you really going to throw away the years we’ve been together? The life we’ve built?”
“Steven, listen to me. This isn’t working. It never did. We haven’t built a life together, just piles of resentment. I should have had the courage to end it sooner. But you can’t honestly think that we can work things out when I ran out on our wedding !”
It’s impossible that he actually wants to get back together. I can’t believe that he wants to be with me, nor can I believe that it’d be any less than utterly toxic for both of us.
Steven holds up his hands. “Okay, look. I know that things are bad. I was humiliated when I realized I had a runaway bride. But I also know that it was my fault, too.”
I fold my arms over my chest. My emotions whirl throughout my body, but even though I want to cry, I don’t doubt myself.
This is toxic.
Maybe he’s the toxic one, maybe I am. Maybe neither of us is, and it’s just the way we react together, like bleach and ammonia creating chloramine gas. I don’t know anymore. What I do know is that if Steven can’t see it, he needs help.
“I’ll forgive you, Bella,” he says urgently. “And I know you can forgive me, too.”
“Steven, please.”
“Bella, please.” He reaches for my hand again.
It’s my own fault. I’ve let him talk me back to him before. I’ve been the one begging to get back together.
This is our pattern.
I look him in the eye. “Why?”
Steven takes a step back. “Why… what?”
“Why do you want me back?”
He opens his mouth, then closes it. I wait.
Seconds tick by as he struggles. He continually starts and stops again.
“See?” I say, my shoulders slumping, more from relief than defeat this time. “You don’t want me back. You don’t love me, and I don’t love you. I don’t know why we held onto this relationship for so long when it was clearly not working for either of us.”
Steven shifts on the spot, looking like he wants to argue without being able to formulate a proper argument against what is clearly the truth between us.
A wave of lightness washes over me, despite the circumstances.
It occurs to me that one of the reasons why I was so uncertain and frightened last night was because of this.
Even though I ran away from Steven, I hadn’t yet officially ended things.
“It can’t work out between us. I’m tired of pretending to be someone I’m not. So this is it. We are over, Steven. I’ll send you money for my half of the rent until the lease is up.”
Steven searches my face. “You’re moving out? For real?”
I nod. “Your name is on the lease, so it’s only fair you keep the apartment. I wish things didn’t get to this point. I am sorry for running out on our wedding, rather than calling it off beforehand.”
“And all of this is over a stupid dress?” he snaps.
“No. It’s because, in your own words, I’m a runaway bride. I don’t even have the excuse that my fairy godmother told me to be back home by midnight.” I sigh heavily.
He rolls his eyes. “Oh, so now you’re Cinderella, are you? Does that make me the wicked witch?”
I don’t bother pointing out that Cinderella doesn’t have a wicked witch in it.
“You can tell your family and friends anything you need to. It’s over,” I say, for the last time. There’s nothing more to argue about.
Steven snarls into the air as he turns to the lake.
I wait calmly. It’s strange just how calm I actually am here.
“Fine,” he snaps. “Fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll have your things boxed up and put in storage. But I’m keeping the cars. Both of them.”
He wants a fight. I keep my expression blank.
“I don’t agree to that, but I will retain a lawyer to help resolve the issue.”
Steven glares at me. He shoves a finger into my face but then turns on his heel. “Goodbye!”
He stalks away.
I watch him as he returns to his cabin and slams the door behind
A rush of relief washes over me.
I don’t feel like staying out here any longer, so I go back into the big cabin. My heart hammers like crazy, as if having that conversation was equivalent to running a marathon.
In a way, it is.
I set my sketchbook on the coffee table and drop onto the couch. Despite how tired I was earlier, now I’m electrified.
It’s over.
It’s finally over.
I’ve done what I should have done years ago.
Now, I’m free.
I’ve freed both of us.
It’s messy and complicated, yes, and I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive him for all the times he hurt me, but it’s over.
We can now both move on with our lives.
I find myself without any hatred toward him. Anger, sure, but no hate. I hope he finds peace and relief in this as well.
There’s so much about myself that I don’t recognize anymore.
Who am I, really? What do I want from life?
I’ve been coasting along for so long, doing what I felt I should be doing rather than figuring out what I want.
It’s the reason I stayed with Steven so long.
Being with him was hard and hurtful at times, but I knew what to expect.
Now that things have really, truly ended… I don’t know what will happen. Where will I go? What will I do?
Every possibility seems open to me, and it’s as terrifying as it is thrilling.
I’m not sure how long I lay there, lost in a million thoughts.
Eventually, I rouse myself. My stomach rumbles, so I go into the kitchen to find a snack. Has Ellen decided to go shopping without me by this time?
Maybe I’ll surprise her by heading downtown.
In the kitchen, I spy Aaron walking toward the cabin alone.
My heart leaps, and I instantly want to rush out. I want to throw my arms around him and dance with happiness.
I want to tell him everything that happened, relive every word I said to Steven.
To celebrate finally being free.
But I don’t.
It’s all so fresh, so new.
I need time to process what happened and what it means. I need to figure out what exactly I want.
The last thing I should do is jump straight into a new relationship, especially when last night I was so determined not to let myself get caught up in these budding feelings.
If I act on things right now, I’ll only hurt him.
So no. I can’t run to his arms.
I need time. Maybe, eventually, something can happen.
But not now.