Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Cassidy
W e have three days until Mary’s wedding and the last two have been awful. Not at all because of the wedding, but because I feel like absolute garbage.
Hunter has been sending me a fair number of messages. Not enough to be annoying, but enough to remind me that I can’t forget him. As if I could if he didn’t message me. He’s on my mind all day and his stupid, perfect messages cause me to waver between wanting to reach back out to him and the other part solidifying that distance is best.
I had decided while talking with Georgie that this fear in me is enough for me to make a move. I decided to end things. I know what kind of girl I am, and I love her. I love that I am independent. I love that I do well enough in my job to keep me happy and keep my stress low. I love that I get to take part in my hobbies without having to explain them to anyone. I love not having to answer to anyone. I love sleeping in my big bed by myself. I am a single, happy girl. I am the power auntie to all my sweet girls’ kids, if Mary decides to have some. Georgie isn’t a “kids person”, and none of us were upset with that. I’m not a “partner person”, and they owe me the same kind of respect.
Honestly, Georgie is giving me more than just respect in that aspect. She’s given me a safe and comfortable place to stay while this all gets sorted out. Hunter is the kind of man to show up at my doorstep to make a statement and try to convince me that I can be the kind of girl I’m not. He’ll show up and buy himself some more time and it will only make me more uncomfortable for longer. I can’t give Hunter any more false hope.
So, here I am, basically hiding until this all blows over. Georgie has a great second master, so I am very comfortable aside from missing my books. I grabbed a small selection to last me a few days, and I can always run over there before work because it’s not like Hunter can stay there all day; he has a farm to run.
While packing up my books for my temporary stay, seeing the pile of books I had gotten for Hunter was bittersweet. They were obviously duplicates from my own collection, so I have no need for them.
Part of me had considered sending them down to him as a somewhat parting gift, but I feel like that would be like a double-edged sword for him. So, they continue to sit in that pile on my floor, unclaimed and without future purpose. I know I’ll find something to do with them eventually.
I am working from home for the time being, as well, to avoid any kind of run-in with Dom. I haven’t heard anything from anyone in the office regarding a possible black eye. I would not be surprised if he was sporting a hefty bruise on the face. The sound of Hunter’s heavy fist hitting Dom’s face is not one I can easily forget.
That also goes for the last time I slept with Hunter. He could tell something was off about me, but he didn’t press. He let us have our moment and I could feel what he was trying to tell me with his every action.
I’m sorry.
I respect you.
I desire you.
I’m crazy about you.
When Hunter spoke those last words out loud, I feared another sentence would quickly follow. He could sense my fear and took pause. He will never know how much I appreciate that. How much I appreciate not breaking another man down due to his mistake of falling in love with me.
His feelings are an illusion, they aren’t real. He hasn’t known me long enough to know if those feelings can withstand a lifetime. Love is deeper than a fleeting moment.
I love the girls.
I love my father, to this day.
I love coffee and good books.
I love…
What more is there to love?
Is there a possibility that love is out there for me, and I just don’t know how to feel it? I cared for my boyfriend in college. He was great in every way, but I don’t think I loved him the way I love the girls, my father, or even my favorite book.
Why don’t I understand the extent of this feeling more? Is it because I don’t have a mother?
No, Mary also grew up without a mother and her love for Trent is something beyond what I can imagine. I can tell she would be devastated without him, and I can see how it’s different from her love for Georgie, Lynn, or me.
I can see everyone else around me experiencing it; I can even see Hunter feeling love like that, but I can’t picture it for myself. A tight hold takes over my heart .
I can see Hunter laughing and loving someone the way I see the others doing so. I can see him hauling a little one around; they’re sitting on his shoulders, laughing full belly laughs about something he said.
I can see him late in the evening helping his partner make dinner in the kitchen, creating a warm energy that brings a lightness to the end of the day.
I can see him intently listening to his partner speak while he massages her feet at the end of the couch.
I can see him taking the time that my friends’ husbands take with each of their wives. I hate that I can see it because I know there is going to be someone else on the receiving end.
I don’t know if a part of me wishes that was me, because still at this moment I can’t imagine myself as that woman in his life.
I can’t imagine being the other half of the equation, cooking in the kitchen or hauling around children.
I can’t imagine sitting at a counter listening to Hunter tell me about his troubles on the farm or listening to him tell me the latest scoop on what’s happening in that small ass town.
I can’t imagine sitting on that gorgeous porch swing, reading a book in comfortable silence while he squeezes my feet, or a little one waiting patiently for me at the edge of the library door with a piece of artwork they had just made.
I can’t imagine sitting on that long chaise with a small babe sleeping on my chest while I read out loud to a quiet room, or quietly laughing over coffee on a Sunday morning after sleeping in.
My chest feels heavy, and my stomach acid begins to act up. I imagine I am developing heartburn from all this self-reflection if that’s possible.
Mindlessly I return to work. Typing away, running numbers, gathering research, and putting together reports. My acid reflux calms down. My chest feels lighter. I see an email from Dom, and after a quick scan, I can see that it’s all related to work. If anything, Hunter and their altercation may have caused Dom’s pointless advances to finally stop. Which I appreciate.
Georgie: We have dinner plans so don’t make any.
Me: I would never turn down a free meal.
Another ping from my phone, which I assume is a smart response from her, turns out to be an email.
Application & Referral.
It’s a response from that application I put through after getting the referral from Monica. I read on and find a list of dates for interview opportunities. With their consideration of me for the position, I feel like there begins to be a light at the end of the tunnel.
A new job, a new town, a new start. Georgie will be delighted at our dinner tonight with the news. I know my glum attitude does nothing for her, so she will be happy to have the old me back.