52. Darcy
FIFTY-TWO
DARCY
I can’t do this.
It’s Monday night, heading into Tuesday. I’ve been awake since 2 a.m., feet dangling from the porch swing at the homeplace in my nightgown. Stormy sits in my lap, with Barkley keeping vigil at my feet. The other dogs ignore me, dreaming their little rabbit-chasing doggie dreams.
I wish I could find that kind of peace right now. All I can do is recycle the same handful of thoughts about the future.
Jake has a bright future ahead of him. The things he thinks up could do something amazing, solve some major world problem.
Yes, I could move back to Raleigh. I could see if he wants to come with me after he graduates. He’d have more job prospects there, but I don’t know if I’d feel right going back to my old job. I could do it and, without Rob there, I might love my job again. But there’s a strong chance that it would just feel like a ghost of a bad time in my life.
And anyway, a move to a new city together is a lot to ask of someone you’ve only been dating a few months, and I think Jake’s smitten enough to go for it.
But if he did that, it would be hard for me to think he wasn’t making a mistake.
The last thing I want is to be his mistake. I’d rather be a distant fantasy than someone who wasted years of his life—because I know what it feels like for someone to waste years of your life. Years you’ll never get back. Self-confidence that might not ever recover fully. A heart that’s still in tatters.
And sure, we could stay together until he finishes school, but the looming deadline of an impending breakup when he moves away is more than my tattered heart can handle.
It would be easy for him to just choose me as the default, to avoid moving back to Floyd so he can avoid conflict with his family. To avoid choosing a more accomplished life.
Selfishly, I want him to choose me. Realistically, I know that’s too much to ask, and something I’d never be able to trust.
What I need is for him to take some time and make an active choice, an informed decision of what he wants and what’s best for him , not just for us .
And maybe he can take some time apart from me and decide this is what he wants: me, the farm, a quiet life.
But I can’t keep him on the line. I need to cut him loose.
This is what’s best for both of us.
* * *
I’ve got a little slip of paper in my hand. The student at the registrar’s office didn’t ask questions. I told her I was late to Jake Warren’s class and couldn’t remember what room it was in.
She didn’t check for a student ID or anything. She just gave me the information. Good thing I’m not some maniac, I guess.
Jake’s in one of those classic auditorium-style classrooms, with desks in rows up stairs. I slide into a table in the last row, somewhat incognito because I have on a ball cap, sweatshirt, and jeans. I fight the clench in my stomach when he puts on some glasses to read off his screen.
I didn’t even know he had glasses.
I love him, and he never told me he had glasses. Maybe all of this was too fast. That’s the weird intensity that comes with being in extremely close proximity with someone. You’re on this fantasy island, separated from society, isolated from everything.
Of course you fall in love with the closest eligible partner. I should be thanking my lucky stars that the closest eligible partner was him.
Jake is extraordinary. He’s compassionate and funny, tough and thoughtful. Faithful.
I’m lucky to have gotten to love him.
So when he says, “Okay, I think that’s everything for today. See y’all Thursday,” a cold sweat breaks out over my body.
He answers a few questions for individual students, bending over the table to draw something on their paper. I blend in, fidgeting with my stuff. When the last student is headed up the stairs, he finally catches my eye.
He smiles and looks shy at the same time. “Hey, you. Do you have a sudden interest in engineering?”
I smirk, coming down the steps to where he’s packing up his bag. “Just engineering TAs with slutty little glasses.”
He chuckles, those fucking dimples popping. “Is that what they are? Slutty?”
“When you look that good in something, it’s slutty.”
He puts a hand to his cheek in mock shock. “Stop objectifying me, Miss Rossetti.”
I’ve made it to stand in front of him, and he loops his arms around my waist, dipping to kiss me. I savor it, savor him, because I know what I’m about to do. “This is a nice surprise,” he mumbles against my lips. “Looking for some teacher-student roleplay? I think this classroom’s empty for another half hour or so.”
He pulls back, clocks the look on my face, and goes stiff. “Oh, shit.”
“Jake,” I start, but he already knows.
He pulls off his glasses and folds them up, pinching the bridge of his nose in his thumb and forefinger. “Why?”
I flex my jaw, searching for the words I practiced in the truck on the way here. “It’s too hard for me to see you all the time knowing you’re leaving in a few months.”
He tosses a hand out. “Who said I’m leaving?”
I cock my head to the side, begging for some sort of mercy and understanding with my eyes. “There aren’t a ton of robotics jobs around here. I looked.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m going to leave,” he argues.
“Jake, I can’t hold you back.”
“Hold me back?” I’ve never heard him this mad. Even when he punched Rob, his voice was cool and even.
“I think they’re leaving me the farm. I can’t move.”
“Okay,” he says, throwing his hands out again until they slap his thighs. “So, we’re both here, then.”
“You said you didn’t want farm life when we talked about your family’s farm,” I point out.
He shrugs. “Things have changed. I fell in love with you. Work is just work.”
“Says the guy who said he’s never been gainfully employed.” I say it and immediately regret the words.
Jake’s eyes narrow. “Please don’t talk down to me. You know there are reasons for that.”
“I’m sorry.” I hold my hands out. “That wasn’t meant to be a dig. I’ve just lived a very different life than you have and I think there are things you’re overlooking.”
That didn’t help. His anger might have doubled. “Darcy, your path isn’t the only path. This sounds an awful lot like it’s about you and not about me.”
“It’s not,” I object. “You’re brilliant, Jake. You deserve to use this education. If you choose me, you’re leaving all of this behind. It’s okay if I’m just the girl you leave behind.” I sniffle, trying to keep my tears in.
“Is this about Sierra?” Jake shakes his head and looks at the floor between us. “Just because I left her doesn’t mean I’m leaving you.”
“Why would you stay? You have this degree.”
“Almost,” he says, trying to make a small joke. “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.”
I level him with a look. “You know what I mean.”
“Sorry. I don’t like fighting with you. Trying to keep it light.” He sniffs in a breath and crosses his arms. “Look, I’ve been exploring other options.”
“Jake,” I plead.
His expression goes fully serious and he nods, eyes falling to the floor between us. “If you really don’t want to be with me, I’m not going to force you.”
“I do want to be with you,” I argue.
“Then be with me! See where this goes!”
My lower lip wobbles and I fight it. This is where the rubber meets the road, the sticking point. “I need to know you’re fully choosing me, Jake. That you’re not just choosing me to avoid making another choice.”
He scrunches up his face. “What?”
“I don’t want you to be here because you’re afraid to go home. I don’t want you to be here because you’re settling. I don’t want you to give up your best years because you went for comfortable rather than taking a chance.”
“My best years? Darcy, they’d be my best years because I’m with you. Why can’t you accept that you are what makes life sweet? You, loving you, growing and changing with you, being with your family, making a family—that’s what’s so sweet. Not some Hollywood fantasy where I have some high-powered job, and then I have my Hallmark movie moment where I come home and learn the true meaning of life from some hunky guy on my family farm.”
My jaw sets and I’m half tempted to slap him. “Don’t make fun of me, Jake Warren. You’re mocking my entire life right now. If I’d known this was how you felt all this time?—”
“That all I was to you was an escape from real life? And now you’re telling me not to make the same stupid mistake you did? I was your mistake, Darcy. In that scenario, I’m the mistake.”
“You’re not a mistake,” I whisper. “But you just called my life foolish.”
He sits half his ass on the table, steepling his fingers to cradle his forehead. “I’m not trying to hurt you, Darcy?—”
“Too late,” I snap.
“You’re hurting me! You know what I’ve been doing? Trying to figure out how to stick around, how to teach longer, how to patent my robot so I can sell it to a company.”
“I don’t want you making plans around me!” I finally start to cry. “I need you to be sure, Jake. Because I won’t be able to live with myself if I know that years down the road, you’re going to regret me.”
Jake draws a deep breath, rubbing his lips between his teeth. “Just because you regret decisions you’ve made doesn’t mean I regret mine.”
I pinch my nose. “You said you didn’t want farm life. If you choose me, you’re probably getting farm life.”
“I said that before I had you. Before we happened.”
“You can’t build your life around love alone, Jake!”
Jake shakes his head, and I’ve never seen him so sad. “What else is the point of life, Darcy? Why shouldn’t love be the center of everything?”
A single tear streaks down my cheek. “Because sometimes love isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
Jake’s arms surround me, and I hug him back. His lips sink into the top of my baseball cap. “I’m not him, baby.”
“I know. But I need you to be sure,” I repeat through my tears, squeezing him before stepping back.
He lowers his eyes to my level, worry in his expression. “Can’t we date? Things were intense this summer, but don’t throw us away.”
“I’m not,” I say. “I’m giving you the space to be sure of what you want. If we’re still together all the time, it’ll get confusing.”
“I want you. I choose you.” He says it slowly, carefully. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” I rise on my toes and kiss his cheek. “If it’s meant to be, I’ll see you again.”
“Please,” he whispers.
I give him one last kiss. “I love you. And I want you to make the best decision for you.”
“Okay.” He squeezes my hand before I walk away. When I’m almost out of the auditorium, he calls my name. I turn back. “Congratulations on the farm. I’m really happy for you.”
My tears spill anew and I wipe them away with a wry smile. “Thank you. Good luck with your robot.”
He nods. “I can’t watch you go, so I’m going to,” he points to the whiteboard behind him and turns his back to me.
I leave.