Chapter Eight
Scout
I am tiptoeing around the elephant in the room.
Developing diabetes was always a fear of mine. It hung over my life much like dark storm clouds that would come and go. There were times I forgot about that cloud hanging over me, sure it would not rain down on me. It has though, so I have lived with dark, stormy days, and sunshine ones too.
During my trip to honor my mother, I came to terms with my diagnosis. It is not a death sentence even if it you think it moves the clock faster for you. All that meant for me was I wanted to see everything, do everything, and experience everything I could while I had a chance to.
Dating someone was never simple because I had to explain all the do’s and don nots. It is part of the reason I never dated men much. Women had more empathy for my illness. It might be harsh to say all men, but most men get turned off or want to fix what cannot be fixed. I never dreamed that Sebastian would be one of those men.
“Seb is not that sort of guy,” Aspen argues after I tell her my theory.
Aspen is the sweetest, kindest, most caring person I have ever met. We met at the bar one night and hit it off. At first, I thought I had a crush on her, but it turns out I was seeking a friend I could trust and count on. After an awkward date that should have been perfect, I knew I had to talk with her.
“Well, I did not think so before that night. Now, I don’t know. I think we might be rushing things. Neither of us knows how to date someone. Hell, I have not dated the opposite sex since in a decade. You ever consider letting me join you and Asher, it would solve all my problems, beautiful.”
Aspen flushes as we laugh, because I often tease her this way. “No. Asher is all mine, darling. Just the way Sebastian is all yours. I see that man up there on that mountain all the time. He hid from everything for a long time. Since you two met, he stopped hiding. This is a good thing , Scout.”
Taking a bite of the sweet tart from Bria’s Bakery, I chew thoughtfully. It’s a beautiful day, I am with my new best friend, eating some of the best sweets in the county, and I have a strapping, sexy man who wants me. There is no reason to be so upset. Except this is a goo d thing. Good things have never lasted in my life.
“Yes, this is a good thing,” I repeat her words, but I am doubtful.
“Do not make it a bad thing. Asher is the same way. Before we got together, he tried to keep me at a safe distance. He tried to ignore what we felt when we were together. Because he thought it was too good to be true. That I would find a flaw in him somehow,” she murmurs gently, sipping her tea.
Yes, I know their story. Aspen knew he was the one for her despite an age gap that might make people talk, and Asher’s stubborn ways. They might have been opposites in almost every way, but together they make sense. I had thought the same about me and Sebastian.
To anyone asking, we make little sense. He is very focused, driven in his work, and somewhat withdrawn from others. I am aimless, with no desire to keep a regular nine-to-five, and I love meeting new people and learning about them. On paper, we make little sense, but I thought in the light of day we were perfect together.
“Sebastian is not the flawed one. I am. A point he has pointed out to me. I do not want him to think he needs to take care of me. I hate the idea of anyone taking care of me.”
Aspen lets out a little sigh, reaching out to take my hand. “Honey, that is what we do when we care about someone. They become our priority. You have become his priority. He wants to take care of you. Like I said, it is a good thing. Do not give up on him or on yourself because you feel guilty.”
“I won’t do anything rash, I promise,” I tell her as I call an end to our lunch date. I cannot sit here and lie to her even if I can lie to myself.
We agree to meet up with Quinn, Brielle, and a few others tomorrow night for a girl’s night. I joke I might even get Tre to close The Rusty Nail just for us. Even as we talk about her marriage to Asher, and them trying for a baby, and how good our lives seem to be, I am drowning in that doubt. Because I know I have no intention of being here for girl’s night.
Despite my promise, I am doing something rash.
I will not stay here with Sebastian and let someone take care of me. I swore I would never be that person. I love my mother and wish I could have had twenty more years with her. But I can’t. I hate knowing how she hated those last months, how she hated being cared for. My mother wanted me to live my life to the fullest, not slow down for her or anyone.
Even thinking about Sebastian learning to help track my carbs or give me a shot, or worse, shove a glucose tablet down my throat if my blood sugars plummet, it makes me miserable. It would make him miserable. I cannot do that to him. How would he still want me, still think I am beautiful, or want to have a long-term relationship with someone who is always sick?
Once I finish our outing, with a promise to see her tomorrow, I rush home. Grabbing the leather bag that has seen half of the country with me, I begin hastily packing. Some things I can leave behind, but I will have to go to his cabin for things I cannot stand to leave behind. That means facing him to tell him I won’t be sticking it out here in Driftwood Peaks.
“No one needs another burden,” I tell myself as shaking hands shove the few things I own into the bag.
What does it matter if you want them to be your burden too?
All my breath explodes out of my lungs. I fall back against the wall and slide to the floor with a thump. Covering my face, I break down for the first time since I lost my mother. My cries, my wails of pain, they echo back at me as I shudder with sobs, tears staining my cheeks.
I am so tired of going . Of picking up the pieces and trying to move on. I wanted to be still for a little while. To have a place where I could breathe again. Where I could shake off the loneliness of the long trip of grief I took after losing my mother. It lasted so long, and I thought it was over, but it will never be over. Losing her changed my makeup, my brain chemistry.
“How can I face him? How can I tell him I do not want this anymore? He will see that I am lying. Hear it my voice because I can hear it now,” I talk to the quiet of the bedroom, frustrated that I see no way out of this.
Grabbing my bag, I run from the room, leaving the keys on the hook beside the door as I lock it behind me. I race down the steps to my scooter, swiping at my face as I go. I will let no one see me fall to pieces. Only it seems as if the entire world is against me making a great escape.
“Scout,” an all-to-familiar voice calls, sending my pulse skittering. Turning my head, I see Sebastian with a handful of the other guys from the landing. Should have known they would be here for lunch. “Hey, honey.”
Panic seizes me as he saunters over to me, tall and handsome, with a big smile on his face. That smile owns my heart, and it always will. I wish I could stay; I wish I could let him own all of me forever. But I can’t. The guilt and the discomfort of having him take care of me would eat away at me.
It was sweet what he did for that picnic. Sebastian planned something so cute, so romantic, and thoughtful. I was blown away until I let myself think about it. Until I let myself see all the special things he had to do for me to put that picnic together. It would always be that way.
Being with me will always be more work than I am worth.
“H-hey, Sebastian,” I sputter his name as if it is our first meeting.
Sebastian hears it. As I feared, he hears the lies, the fear, the ready-to-run tone in my voice. Tears sting my eyes, so I look away, refusing to make him feel worse than he has to. This is all my doing. If I had never flirted that first day at the bar, we might not be here now.
“What is going on? Why...honey, why does it look like you might be packing up to leave town? Have I missed something?”
Shaking my head, I kick at the ground. I had not figured out what I was going to say to him in my head. I thought I had more time. More time to come up with a way to pin the blame on me. Whatever it took not to hurt him. Now, as he watches me, I see that hurting him is inevitable.
“No, no, you didn’t...I mean I am... what I mean is,” steeling myself as my words sputter out and I let out a sigh, I look at him at last. “I am leaving. We never talked about time or how long I would be here. We should have, because this is not fair to you. I need to go. I never planned to stay here.”
Sebastian’s beautiful brown eyes go midnight black. His fists flex at his sides, his powerful arms coiling as he moves closer. I take a step back. I am not afraid of him. He would never hurt me. But I am afraid that if he touches me, I won’t be able to do what I have to.
If he touches me, if he says the right words, I won’t be able to go.
“Oh, we talked about time. I am sure I made it very clear this was for good. This is not ending because I did something wrong or said something wrong. You do not run off on me because it gets tough or weird. We figure it out. That is what grown-ups do in a grown-up relationship, Scout.”
Flinching at his tone, I glare up at him. “Well, I guess I am not very good at being a grown-up, Sebastian. Sorry to let you down.”
Turning from him, I stomp towards my Vespa without bothering to grab anything else from upstairs. I am on the edge of falling apart as I climb on, my body aching as I kick start the scooter. I cannot believe I am doing this. That I am leaving him. Leaving Driftwood. Leaving a place I had hoped to call home. As I sail past him on the Vespa, he shouts something I cannot make out.
Thinking it is for the best, I don’t stop; I do not even slow down. Refusing to chance a look at him, I head for the highway and another new start somewhere else. Somewhere without him, without the new friends I made, and without the sense of home I had found with him. Never looking back, I get past the county line before I let myself fall apart.
Because what do I do now that I’ve left the town, the people, and the man I love behind?