Uprooted

Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

G abe pulls up in front of the same little laundromat we’ve been using on our days off, the engine idling as I reach for my duffel bag. “I’ll be back in an hour,” he says, tapping the steering wheel. “Shoot me a text and let me know what you want for lunch—my treat.”

I smile, already halfway out the door. “Sounds good.”

Wrestling my bag of dirty clothes onto my shoulder, I watch as he eases the SUV into Drive and heads toward the small downtown centre, probably off to fill the tank with gas and knock out a few errands while I deal with my laundry.

Inside, the laundromat is exactly as empty as you’d expect on an early morning during a weekday: rows of silent machines, a few empty battered chairs by the window, and those harsh fluorescent lights humming overhead. I claim a washer and dump in my clothes—only to spot a few T-shirts, a few pairs of boxers, and some socks that Gabe must’ve snuck into my duffel. My lips twitch at the sight of his boxers tangled with my stuff. If someone had told me a month ago that I’d be doing laundry for my foreman, I would’ve laughed in their face.

With the wash cycle humming along, I flop onto a sagging green leather couch by the vending machine and pull out my phone. I haven’t checked my emails in days, which feels like a small betrayal considering how badly I should be searching for jobs. My mind lingers on the thought of postponing it just a little longer, savouring the uncertainty, the freedom of not being tied down to anything serious. Even though I never saw tree planting as more than a summer job, each day, it feels more like an escape from reality, and honestly? I kind of love that.

But my adult brain says I can’t just hide in Alberta forever. I need a plan and place to land on my feet. Because tree planting will end and not having a way to support myself beyond this summer isn’t an option for a twenty-five-year-old. So I cave to the pressure and open my mail app on my phone.

My inbox greets me first with pictures from my parents, basking under the Portuguese sun, all smiles and tanned skin. Retirement suits them. A warmth spreads through me at how happy they look. But then my gaze snags on a new sender: écoForêt Inc. My heart stutters.

I open the email, scanning the message.

Subject: Interview Invitation—écoForêt Inc.

July 2nd

Hello Ms. Bellerose,

Thank you for sending your résumé; we’re impressed by your experience and interest in this position. We’d love to schedule an interview with you to discuss a potential role at écoForêt Inc. Since we see from your email that you’re currently in Alberta planting trees, we’d be happy to set up a Zoom meeting at your convenience.

Please let us know a few dates and times that work best for you. We look forward to meeting you virtually soon!

Warm regards,

Stéphane Boucher

Hiring Manager

écoForêt Inc.

They’re interested. They want to schedule a virtual interview. My fingers hover over the screen, my heart pounding in my chest. This is huge. It’s what I’ve been working toward, the kind of job I’ve been chasing since I graduated.

But suddenly, I’m not sure how I feel. My heart’s a tangled mess—split between this incredible opportunity and the idea of leaving tree planting, camp, and Gabe behind. But we knew this could be a possibility. And right now, there’s no commitment between us, no promises, nothing holding me here. I can’t risk saying no to this job because we might be more than a summer fling. I just can’t.

Finally, I pull together a quick reply offering to talk today, then set my phone aside, letting the realization sink in. My legs won’t stop bouncing, so I stand up and start pacing the room.

A beep from the washer snaps me back, and I switch everything to the dryer, still half in a daze. Then my phone buzzes—a new message from écoForêt:

Could you interview in 10 minutes?

“Ten minutes?” I whisper, glancing down at my grubby T-shirt and jeans. Screw it. I type back a quick yes and pace nervously in front of the dryers, clutching my phone like a lifeline. Gabe still hasn’t returned, and part of me wishes he’d walk in right now—sweep me into a hug, tell me not to take the interview, to stay with him. That we’d figure it out. But my phone buzzes with the Zoom link, and he’s nowhere to be seen. Sighing, I slip into a corner near the back, tucking myself behind a folding screen.

Thirty minutes later, I’m wrapping up the call with two cheerful hiring managers. They outlined the job: forestry site assessments, collaborating with agencies, travelling across Quebec and maybe beyond. It’s exactly what I’ve dreamed of—practical field biology, real problem-solving. The salary, albeit an entry position, is better than I would have expected.

But then they mention the start date: two weeks from today.

That means uprooting from Alberta before planting season is done—leaving Gabe, the camp, everything behind. Two weeks . The words bounce around in my head again, growing louder and heavier with every repetition. Leaving feels like tearing myself away from something that’s only just beginning, but staying? Staying would mean risking everything for something that isn’t even defined yet. I can’t take that gamble.

Even as the ache in my chest sharpens, I know what I have to do.

“Yes,” I blurt, my voice shaking. “Yes, that won’t be a problem. I’ll let my boss know I’ll be leaving early.”

The interviewers beam at me, their cheerful voices promising to send over the contract and next steps. I nod along, trying to focus on their words. I put on my bravest face as I fake a few smiles, thanking them for the opportunity.

When the call ends, I put my phone down on the table and just sit there, staring at nothing. I should feel relieved—excited, even. But all I feel is this dull ache sinking deeper into my chest, like a magnet that’s pulling me further away from where I want to be.

I press my fingers to my temples, trying to calm the spiralling thoughts in my head. I made the right call . I know I did. So why does it already hurt so much?

As I finish folding the last of my laundry, I spot Gabe pacing outside the laundromat, his phone pressed to his ear. His back is to me, but even from here, I can see the tension in his shoulders. He pauses mid-step, raking a hand through his hair before letting out a short, tight laugh.

I step closer to the large commercial window, curiosity bubbling up. He’s clearly on a serious call, but there’s something different in his posture—not defeated, not frustrated. Just… resolute. When I finally step outside, I catch snippets of his conversation.

“…No, Dad, I get it. I know what I’m turning down, and I appreciate the offer—I really do,” Gabe says, his tone calm. “But I’ve worked out a way to make this happen without putting you or anyone else in an awkward spot.”

I freeze just outside the door, realizing this is the call—the one he’s been avoiding since the tense meeting with his dad in Calgary about the offer for help.

“Yeah,” he continues, his voice steady. “I’ve already talked to Mike. He’s agreed to my proposal—three summers at a reduced day rate, plus what I can earn in the off-season doing freelance contracts. I’ve got a forestry job lined up near Rocky to cover the gap.” He pauses, and I catch a faint murmur on the other end of the line, though I can’t make out the words.

Gabe chuckles lightly, the sound softening some of the tension in his frame. “No, it’s not just stubbornness, Dad. It’s… I don’t want to look back and regret not taking this shot. You built something great in Calgary, and I respect the hell out of that. But this is my thing. I’ve got to try.” There’s another long pause, and then Gabe nods, almost like he’s reassuring himself as much as his dad on the other end. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.” His voice dips, quieter now. “I’ll come by next time I’m in Calgary. We can talk more then.”

When he finally ends the call, he exhales deeply, shoving his phone into his pocket and glancing toward the laundromat. His eyes land on me in surprise. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough to know you just turned down your dad’s offer,” I say softly, stepping closer. “Are you okay?”

He nods, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “Yeah. Actually, I feel… good. Like I made the right call.”

I tilt my head, studying him. “What did he say?”

“He said he respects my decision,” Gabe replies, his voice quiet but steady. “I think I was expecting a fight, but when I laid it out—how I’ve already got a plan, how this is something I really want—he just… listened. For once, it didn’t feel like he was trying to steer me in a different direction. Obviously, it’s going to take some time for my parents to come around.”

A warm smile spreads across my face. “That’s amazing, Gabe.”

His grin fades just slightly as he catches the tightness in my smile. “Everything okay?”

I inhale, my lips parting.

Gabe’s expression softens, his eyes searching mine. “What’s wrong, Soleil?”

“It was, um, the job I told you about,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “They just called to interview me.”

“Oh wow, that was fast.” He pauses, hesitating. “And…?”

“And, um…I got it.”

“You—wow. Soleil. That’s huge. Congratulations!” He steps forward, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me into a tight hug. His enthusiasm feels so genuine it makes my throat ache.

“Gabe, wait,” I say, my voice a little sharp. “You’re crushing me.”

He pulls back immediately, his expression shifting as he studies my face. His excitement dims, replaced by something quieter. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

I nod, swallowing hard. “I start in two weeks. Which means I have to leave in ten days.”

His face falls for a moment before he pulls himself together, forcing a tight smile. “Ten days, huh? That’s not so bad—you’ll only miss a couple more weeks of planting.”

I catch the ache in his eyes, the way he’s trying to be okay with this. “If… if that’s okay with you,” I add quickly. “With the company, and…” I hesitate, my voice faltering. “With us.”

For a moment, he just looks at me, tension written across his face. Then he clears his throat and nods, his smile steady but clearly forced. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Of course. You’ve got to do what’s best for you. This is what you’ve been working toward, right?”

“Yes, but… I’m so sorry, Gabe,” I manage, but the word feels hollow.

He takes a step closer, his voice softer now. “Soleil, don’t be sorry. I’m proud of you. This is a big deal.” His voice wavers slightly.

I nod, blinking back the sting in my eyes. “Just give me five more minutes. I need to make one more call.”

“Yeah, of course,” he says, stepping back. “Take your time.”

I slip back into the laundromat, pulling my phone from my pocket as I sit down.

“You hooked up with him, didn’t you?” Emma’s voice practically explodes through the phone as soon as she picks up. “Oh my God, please tell me everything!”

I let out a shaky laugh, biting my lip. “It’s, um… yeah, I did.”

Her squeal is so loud I have to pull the phone away from my ear.

“We spent some time at his cabin,” I continue, trying to sound casual. “And… we fished, hung out, and?—”

“Fucked. I fucking knew it!” she shrieks, cutting me off.

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, rolling my eyes. “But that’s not why I’m calling. Is your roommate offer still on the table?”

“Of course,” she says instantly, her tone shifting. “What’s going on?”

“I got that job back home and I have to leave in ten days,” I admit, my voice wavering.

She gasps, then launches into a flurry of questions. I explain the position, the pay, the start date, and how the thought of leaving Gabe—and everything we’ve built here—makes my stomach twist into knots. Through it all, Emma listens, her support steadying me.

“You know you’ve got the place, right?” she says firmly. “I’m so excited to be roommates, but… I’m also kind of sad you’re leaving so soon.”

A wave of relief washes over me, stronger than I expected. “Thank you,” I whisper. “I’m terrified, Em. This job is such a big deal, but… Gabe’s become a big deal too.”

Her voice softens. “Look, no one said you have to figure it all out today. You’ve got the job; you’ve got a place to land. And long distance can work—unless you guys decide it won’t. Just breathe, okay?”

I nod, even though she can’t see me. “I’ll try. At least I know I won’t be homeless. I just hope my planting cheques come in so I can pay your damage deposit before I start.”

Emma laughs, bright and reassuring. “You’re fine. Don’t stress about it right now. And hey, if Gabe ever wants to visit, he’s more than welcome to stay with us for a bit.”

I smile at how upbeat she sounds. “So, how’s Banff with Rolland?” I ask.

“Didn’t happen,” she chirps. “We, um, changed plans. I’ll fill you in when I’m back. I’m on the road right now with Log—” Her voice cuts out. Static hisses in my ear.

“Em? You still there?”

“—driving—service is dropp?—”

The call goes dead, leaving me standing in the laundromat, phone in hand, curious if I heard her say that right… because I’m pretty sure I heard her say Logan’s name. And if that’s the case, Emma has some explaining to do as well…

After talking to Emma, I somehow now feel a little lighter, though the buzzing anxiety in my chest doesn’t entirely fade. It’s not a perfect plan—not even close. But when I came out here, I didn’t have a plan at all. Planting was just supposed to be a stopgap, a way to save money and figure out my next move. Now, I feel like I don’t even know who I am anymore, or what I want with my life.

I’ve learned so much in such a short time—about myself, about Gabe, about what life could be like if I let myself dive in. Part of me wants to stay here, to hold on to the uncertainty a little longer. To hold on to what could be between us, even though it’s so new.

But he didn’t ask me to stay. And I’m not going to push that kind of decision onto him.

So, for now, this plan will have to do. If what Gabe and I have is real—if it’s strong enough—then we’ll figure out a way to make it work.