38. Chapter 38
Chapter 38
T he leaves begin to turn from their deep green to bright orange and burgundy, and still, I remain in a limbo.
Even if I don’t see Carter, he’s right there, every second of every day. I can’t stop replaying the last words he said to me as if they’ve been branded onto each cell in my body. And I want to believe them, I do, but some part of me is holding back. The same part that told me our relationship could never survive if it became real.
Some local singer is performing on the scene of The Sparrow, strumming her guitar in a slow, sensuous rhythm while singing about loving someone for who they are, even the bad. I don’t look at her, focused on cleaning glasses I’ve probably already washed. I can’t bring myself to care about the music, or about the work, or even about my friends. Finn texted me a few times earlier, according to his name popping up on my screen, but I decided not to open my texts. I don’t have it in me to fake being all right, and I don’t want to worry him even more than he probably already is.
The public starts cheering as the song comes to an end, a moment I usually love, when the artists peek out into the crowd and you can see their pride, but I don’t even look up today. I feel like a half version of myself, and I don’t know when that storm hanging over my head will pass and I’ll be able to breathe again.
And then, there’s the part of me that doesn’t want to go back to the way I was before Carter either. I hadn’t realized how limited my life was until him. How I’d restrained myself to a version of life I thought had to be mine. Being with him made me want to do more, to experience more, and to be brave enough not only to wish, but to do. I’m not ready to let go of that person yet, even if she was built on an illusion of a relationship.
“Lil!”
I jump, almost dropping the glass I’ve been polishing all night, only to find Finn on the other side of the bar, looking at me with pinched lips.
“Where were you?”
“Huh?”
“I’ve called your name three times.”
“Oh.”
“And I’ve been texting you all day.” Finn leans in closer, elbows on the bar. “You doing okay?”
Just lie. Just say yes.
With my friend scanning me, though, I can’t. I also can’t acknowledge how terrible I still feel about the ending of such a short relationship. In other people’s eyes, it might sound like a fling, if that. But it was more. So much more. And even if I know he’s a damn good liar, I can’t help but feel like he was being truthful in some way the other day.
“Oh, Lil. ”
I clench my jaw so it doesn’t start trembling yet again. That is why I didn’t open his texts. I can’t continue being this much of a mess all the time, and talking about Carter with Finn would lead to just that.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, praying this will lead to a change of mind. I’d be open to anything. Him wanting us to sign up for line dancing lessons. A talk on a newfound lactose intolerance. Anything.
“I have something for you.” He gives me a pointed look. “Which you would know if you looked at my texts.”
“What is it?” I ask, ignoring his prompt.
“You have a second?”
Finn’s never come to my workplace just to chat. I look around and find no one waiting to order. The bar is quiet tonight and most of our customers are focused on the show, so I can take a bit of time off. Leaving my rag on the countertop, I gesture for him to follow me out back, where I pass an employee-only door that leads out the back of the building. The music muffles as the door slams shut, leaving us in the stillness of the early October evening. I don’t have my coat with me, but the weather’s still mild, only a mild breeze ruffling the hair from my ponytail.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Carter came by earlier.” He doesn’t sugarcoat it as if he knows that ripping the Band-Aid off is the easier option.
The simple mention of his name makes me feel lightheaded. I thought that was better with the new pills, but guess I was wrong. Wobbly, I lean back against the wall, pretending I’m just making myself comfortable.
“What for?” I get myself to ask.
“He wanted me to give you this,” he says, “and didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by going to you directly.”
I wait with my stomach in my throat as Finn hands me a tall envelope. It feels heavy in my hands, and even though I have an inkling of what it might be, it feels like time stops when I open it and see the divorce papers I handed him days before. I can’t feel the wind on my face, can’t smell the petrichor from the earlier rain, can’t see Finn standing next to me, a hand on my shoulder.
I should not be shocked by this. I gave him those papers. I wanted him to sign them.
Or did I?
As I pull the documents out of their folder, something slips out. I bend to pick it up, the paper moist under my fingers from the wet cement.
An envelope with my name in his calligraphy. Neat, precise.
I clutch it tightly, forgetting about the documents I can see have been signed.
“I’m really sorry,” Finn says.
I nod.
“You want me to stay with you for a while?”
“I’m good,” I say. “But thanks for coming all the way for this.”
“Of course.” He hugs me, then begins walking in the direction of his truck. Meanwhile, I remain in place, gaze stuck on the eight letters of my name, never having looked as good as they do in his writing.
“Hey, Lil?”
I look up.
“If it makes you feel any better, he looked devastated handing those to me.”
That doesn’t make me feel better. Not at all.
When Finn has disappeared from view, I let myself slide against the wall to the ground, wetness seeping through my jeans, but I couldn’t care less. Not when my mind feels like it’s been doused in gasoline before stumbling into an inferno.
I only hesitate for a second before I tear the envelope and unfold the paper, breath catching when I see an entire page of his writing.
Lilianne,
First off, I want to start by saying that signing those papers damn near killed me. It makes me sick to think that this might be where it all ends, and I truly hope you’ll never use them, at least until you’ve found another way to get insurance. However, after staring at these for days, I realized it wasn’t my place to keep you from doing what you needed to. So if divorcing me is what you want, here. You can do so now.
But if this is really the end, I wanted to make sure you knew certain things. I’m not a man of many words, something you know already, but I’ll try my best to show you what I’m thinking.
Those months we spent together were the best of my entire life .
Something breaks inside me at those words. The pain is physical, visceral, as if someone is carving those words into my skin.
None of the money and the fame, the shows and the parties, could’ve compared to how it felt to lie on the couch with you, watching you watch a movie, seeing all sorts of expressions move your beautiful face. Even if I never get more, those moments will remain with me forever.
When I learned you were Frank’s daughter, I couldn’t believe it, at first, how fucking small of a world could we live in for you to be her ? That girl I’d heard so much about but had never met? It made no sense. But then I got to know you, and I wondered how I could have missed it in the first place. You were just like him. You had his humor, his wit, his glass-half-full way of living. You didn’t tolerate my shit, and as hard-headed as you could be, you were also the kindest, loveliest person I’d met since spending time with him. And just like I loved Frank, I couldn’t help but love you, too.
I taste salt from my tears, and even though his words hurt, they also unscramble some of my thoughts. He did know him. At first, it almost felt like I’d imagined it, like Carter and Dad knowing each other was an impossible thing I could only have seen in a sleepy haze, but reading this… He knew him.
Marrying you was the best mistake I ever made. It ruined me for the rest of my life, but it also made me see I had a life to begin with. You made a man who hadn’t laughed in years start to dream again.
And so I want you to know this last thing: Even if you never want to talk to me again, even if we’d never met in the first place, I could never regret what I did. Donating that kidney was the best thing I ever did. You light up the fucking world, Lilianne. Even if I was just a blip in your path, I’d be fine with it, so long as you never dimmed.
So here. You have it all. You can take me out of your life forever. Even though my intentions were never to hurt you, I know I did, and for that, I’m so fucking sorry, and I deserve whatever decision you end up making. But I also want you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I know so many people walked away from you in your life, and I promise I won’t be one of them. You’re my one love. So I’ll be there if you decide you need me.
You might not be mine, but I’ll always be yours.
C
I read it a second time, and then a third, and each time, my heart only swells larger, eventually pushing against the restraints of my ribcage as if trying to break free.
I can try to continue hiding my own feelings from myself, but that’d be a waste of time.
I love this man.
It’s useless to continue telling myself I can move on. My heart’s decided Carter’s the one it wants, and I don’t think anything will ever change that. And this letter just proved why: despite it all, he’s a good man. A man I decided deserved my trust after years of thinking no man could ever truly want me for me .
That doesn’t mean I can just forget what happened, but I also can’t continue playing dumb and pretend I can cut him out of my life like he was a simple hookup. Like he didn’t hold my heart in the palm of his rough, calloused hands.
The edges of the papers ruffle with the breeze, and for a long time, I stare at them, wishing a powerful gust of wind could take them away from me. This way, I wouldn’t have to make a decision.
Unless I don’t need to make one yet. There’s no real rush. I was the one who wanted it to be done and over with as soon as possible, but the truth is, it can’t be. Even if I send over these papers, I’ll still wish he were mine. Still wish for a different ending for us. No amount of time or legal separation will change that. The only thing that will allow me true clarity is the truth. What he’s been begging to give me ever since the hospital.
Pushing myself off the damp pavement, I walk inside and ask Leah, my coworker, to cover for me. Then I grab my coat and keys and slip out of the bar.
It’s almost midnight by the time I get to Carter’s apartment, breathless as I knock.
It takes a long time for the door to open, and when it does, Carter looks half awake, rubbing sleep off his eyes. But the second he sees me, his entire body straightens as if someone poured a bucket of cold water down his shirt .
“I want to hear it. What you have to say, about your time with him.” I swallow, trying not to notice the dark circles under his eyes or the way it looks like he hasn’t shaved in days. “If you’re still willing.”
He blinks a few times as if not believing I’m actually here. Then he takes a step back, inviting me in. “Of course I am.”
And so our nights of discovery begin.