Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
BONNIE TYLER “TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE HEART”
Isaac left me two thousand dollars. It was a lot, but not enough to last forever since I had to pay for a motel room and food. I waited for days to hear from him. Wesley told me he’d let me know if Isaac called or returned home.
On Monday, Vi visited me.
When I saw her through the peephole, I took a big breath and found a smile as I opened the door.
“Sarah.” Vi hugged me. “How are you holding up?”
“Fine,” I murmured while releasing her.
I wasn’t fine.
I was lost, angry, heartbroken, grieving, and scared.
She stepped into the room, surveying my minimal belongings, takeout bags scattered around, and my guitar on the bed. “I talked with your mom. She’s worried sick. Wesley didn’t think it was my place to tell her your whereabouts, but as a mother, I’m having trouble with it. I told her that you’re safe.”
“Have you heard from Isaac?”
She narrowed her eyes, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. “No. And Matthew won’t talk to me or his dad, but I gather you’ve broken up. Is it because of Isaac?”
I cleared off my bed and sat on the edge as she leaned against the TV console. “Matt and I broke up because …” I shrugged. Did it matter? “We just don’t share the same dreams right now.” I dropped my gaze. “And I love Isaac.”
“What?”
On a slow inhale, I closed my eyes, and all I could see was him.
His knuckles brushing my cheek.
His adoring gaze sweeping along my body.
He made me feel like the sun because everything about him came to life when he looked at me. Indescribable adoration.
“It happened slowly at first, so slowly I didn’t see it. Then it just happened all at once. Taking my breath away. And no matter how wrong this tiny voice in my head said it was, my heart wouldn’t listen. It ignored every ounce of reason. I know I should feel regretful, but I don’t.” I looked up at the tears in her eyes. “Maybe I’m too young to handle a love that intense, but I’m not too young to feel it.” I fought my own emotions. “It’s all I feel,” I whispered. “And I miss him. I miss him more than I miss my family. And I’m so scared that he’s not coming back because …”
Because your husband has ruined your family.
And I’m lost.
Jobless.
Hopeless .
Godless.
Oh … and homeless and careless.
“Isaac is a complicated young man. He leaves when things get tough. But he always returns. I just”—she bit her lip for a few seconds—“I wouldn’t wait around for him. Make things right with your family. Start college. Be the amazing woman I know you are.”
I wasn’t her definition of amazing. And I didn’t want to do anything but wait for Isaac.
“You don’t have any idea where he went?”
“He took his trailer and horse. So my best guess is he’s rodeoing.”
I chewed on my thumbnail.
“Sarah, how did you leave things with Matthew?”
I paused my chewing and stared at her.
“Sweetie, he won’t talk to anyone. If he’s not playing baseball, he’s in his room with music blaring. I’ve been trying to do everything since Isaac left.”
The farm stand.
“Sorry.” I cleared my throat. “I don’t have a car.”
She frowned. “What if we helped you get something?”
“I don’t think Matt will want me anywhere near him.”
“I think you underestimate how much he loves you.”
Be vulnerable. Feel everything.
“I think you underestimate how badly I hurt him.”
Vi sat next to me and held my hand. “Did you mean to hurt him?”
“No. But I knew it would hurt him, and I did it anyway. Have you ever done that? Have you ever done something that you knew would hurt someone, but you chose to do it anyway?”
“Yes,” she whispered .
I didn’t expect that.
Vi squeezed my hand before standing. “By the grace of God, I am what I am.” She opened the door to the motel room. “We’ll drop a car off later, and you can come back to work when you’re ready.”
With each passing day, my anger toward Isaac grew.
I didn’t want a guitar; I wanted him.
How could he abandon me after everything we shared in Nashville? After I lost my two closest friends?
A week after Violet and Wesley dropped off an old truck that had been parked in the machine shed, I found the courage to leave the motel and go back to work.
When I opened the door to the truck, my mom pulled into the parking spot next to me.
“Don’t cry,” I whispered to myself, taking a shaky breath.
She stepped out and gently closed her door. “Hi,” she said with a much calmer demeanor than the broken-down woman I left over a week earlier.
“Hi.” I gave her a sad smile as she walked around the car.
She stopped a few feet from me, and I took the last two steps and hugged her.
“Sarah,” she whispered on a long exhale.
When I released her, she eyed the truck. “Vi said you were going back to work.”
“Yeah.”
She didn’t beg me to come home, which meant Dad hadn’t changed his mind. I could tell from the way she fiddled with her wedding band that she was there as a mother who needed to see her daughter. It was that simple .
“Do you need anything?” she asked, pressing her fingers to the corners of her eyes.
“I could use a few more things from my room.”
“Of course. I can bring them to you, or you can come to the house during the day when your dad’s at the church.”
I stared at the truck keys, sliding the key ring over my finger. “I’ll do that.”
“He’ll come around.”
I wasn’t so sure, but I returned a nod anyway.
“Your sisters are devastated.”
“Tell them I’m fine.”
She pressed a finger to my chin and lifted it. “But are you fine?”
No.
“I have a roof over my head, a vehicle, and a job.” I smiled. “What more could I need?”
Heather … Isaac …
“Well, I have to get to the church before the kids show up.” She glanced at her watch. “Your dad has a meeting Thursday night, so he’ll be home late. Why don’t you come home and have dinner with me and your sisters?”
“Yeah. We’ll see.”
She gave me one more hug and murmured, “I love you,” before turning and tucking her chin to hide her tears.
It took me a few minutes to gather my emotions and tuck them away so I could function. When I let everything in at the same time, it was too much. I could carry a brick but not a whole house.
Matt’s car was in the drive. God continued to test me, and I had to go inside to get the key and the money for the farm stand. My hand shook as I knocked on the door twice before opening it .
“Good morning,” Vi said. “I have cookies and loaves of bread. Can you help me carry them?”
She handed me the money pouch, key, and two bags of baked goods.
“Oh, good, you can help Sarah carry these. I need to grab a quick shower,” she said, glancing over my shoulder.
I turned toward Matt, and it felt like I was falling on my sword. His expression was dead, as if I was a complete stranger or a ghost he didn’t see.
Vi handed him the other bags, but I didn’t wait another second. I needed to get out of the house. He followed me up the lane to the farm stand. My nervous fingers fumbled the key, and I dropped it on the ground along with the money bag. When I bent down to pick them up, a loaf of bread fell out of the bag.
“Dang it,” I whispered, tossing the bread back into the bag. As soon as I stood, the whole paper bag ripped open, depositing all the baked goods onto the ground. I dropped to my knees in defeat to gather everything. Matt took the key from my hand and unlocked the door. He stepped over the mess on the ground, set the sacks on the counter, and slid past me toward the house without a word.
“No,” I said.
He stopped with his back to me.
“We’ve been through too much for there to be nothing left to say.” I deserted the baked goods and stood as tall as I could under the weight of that brick house.
Matt turned.
“I don’t want to give you a list of reasons; they’ll only sound like weak excuses that won’t change what has happened,” I said .
He kept his stony expression firmly in place. “It’s unforgivable, Sarah.”
Pastor Jacobson’s daughter would have had a lineup of Bible verses about forgiveness. But I felt abandoned by my pastor and God, so I didn’t have a sermon to offer, no divine wisdom.
“You’re probably right. But I wasn’t in …” I shook my head.
“In what?” He squinted. “In love with me? We broke up, and all of your feelings vanished?”
“No,” I whispered. “But it’s not like we used to be. With you, I felt less than. And I was tired of fighting for you and everyone else to acknowledge that my dreams mattered.”
“I told you they did.”
“No. You begrudgingly acknowledged them when we fought. That’s my point. I was tired of fighting, tired of begging, tired of jumping up and down saying, ‘Hey! Look! I have dreams too!’ So, imagine how it felt when someone who shared my dreams looked at me like I was special and deserving. Like I was the only one in the room. Like everything I did made him smile.” I wiped tears from my cheeks. “Matt, we were over.”
“Anyone.” He clenched his jaw. “Anyone but my brother.”
“That’s not how life works.”
He grunted. “It is, actually. It’s called self-control. You just close your knees, Sarah. It’s that simple.”
I tried not to react, but I couldn’t help but flinch. “What do you want me to say?” I whispered.
“I want you to admit that you’re a terrible person.”
I swallowed. “I’m a terrible person. ”
“You should have been in that car with Heather and Joanna.”
I blinked, and a fresh round of tears escaped. “I should have been in the car with them.”
His face morphed with ugly pain, blue eyes streaked red. “Fuck you,” he whispered, wiping his eyes. “Stop agreeing with me. Stop making me sound like a monster. I’m not the monster.” His fingers curled into his hair, and he tugged at it.
I took a few more steps and rested my hand on his back. He jerked away.
“I should have told you. I tried to protect everyone except you, and I’m truly sorry for that.”
Losing Matt, my friend, felt like its own death. I was so sorry for the pain I’d caused, but I didn’t regret Isaac. And those two facts were hard to reconcile.
“I’m not coming back.” He wiped his eyes and stared at me. “When I leave in August, I’m not coming back. I hate my parents. I hate this town. And …”
“You hate me.”
He leered over my shoulder with watery eyes. “I don’t hate you. I actually love you. But I just don’t want to see you again.”
As Matt turned and headed towards the house, he gripped my heart and clenched it.
Tearing … tearing … tearing.
I did not hold back the tears. He stopped, angling his head a fraction toward his shoulder until his chin nearly touched it.
“But maybe someday,” he said.
I closed my eyes, pressing my quivering lips together.
Someday. Maybe someday he’ll forgive me.