Chapter 9
Kim
Pemberton’s office looked exactly the same as it had for six years. Same leather chairs, same mahogany desk, same framed degrees on the wall reminding everyone of his credentials. The only thing different was me.
I didn't knock. Just opened the door and walked in like I had every right to be there.
Pemberton looked up from his computer, surprise flickering across his face before he smoothed it into his usual condescending patience. "I'm pleased you came to your senses. This discovery could be quite significant for the department."
"For you, you mean."
"For all of us. Academic research is collaborative, as you know. Your contribution will be noted in the publication."
"My contribution." I let the words hang there. "The research you said wasn't worth pursuing. That contribution?"
"You found some interesting documents while on what was essentially a personal trip. The university's resources will now ensure proper authentication and analysis. Bradley has extensive experience with Underground Railroad research. He's the logical choice to lead the project."
"Bradley, who wasn't even supposed to go on this expedition. Bradley, who's never done original archival research in his life. That Bradley?"
Pemberton's voice took on an edge. "Bradley, who didn't chase a fantasy in the mountains."
"I had your approval for personal time. Dr. Mitchell had an emergency. You knew I was doing the research."
I'd spent six years being reasonable. Six years making myself invisible, grateful for scraps. Six years watching men like Pemberton take credit for work I'd done while telling me I should be thankful for the opportunity to serve.
"I quit."
The words came out calmer than I felt. Steady. Final.
Pemberton blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I quit. Effective immediately. You can continue taking credit for other people's work." I turned toward the door. "I'm done being invisible so you can feel important."
"You're being emotional. If you walk out now, you'll never work in this field again. I'll make sure of it."
I stopped, turned back. "You know what? I don't care. Six years I've spent making you look brilliant. Six years of my research, my discoveries, my work disappearing into footnotes with your name on top. If that's what it means to work in this field, then maybe this field isn't worth it."
"You're throwing away your career over wounded pride?"
"I'm reclaiming my career. There's a difference.
" I met his eyes. "The documents were discovered on private property, during my approved personal time, following my own research.
The Vermont Historical Society is very interested in partnering with me directly.
So is the property owner. You don't get to erase me from my own discovery just because that's what you've always done. "
Pemberton's face hardened. "You signed an employment contract. Anything discovered during your employment belongs to the university."
"Then it's a good thing I'm no longer employed here." I opened the door. "My resignation letter will be in your email within the hour. Consider this my notice that I won't be returning."
"You're making a mistake."
"The only mistake I made was staying here as long as I did."
I walked out of his office for the last time and was finally free.
MY APARTMENT FELT LIKE a museum of someone else's life. The conservative cardigans hanging in the closet, the carefully organized books, the furniture I'd bought because it was practical and affordable and took up minimal space.
Six years of making myself fit into a life I never wanted.
I called my landlord first. Explained I was breaking the lease, offered to pay whatever penalties existed. He was surprisingly understanding, and said he'd start showing the apartment next week.
Then I called a shipping company. The couch, the desk, the bed, most of the clothes, I'd leave for the subletter or donate. But my research, my grandmother's quilt, my personal books, those needed to come with me.
The woman on the phone was patient while I gave her Neil's address, spelling out Burke Mountain Road twice to make sure she had it right.
"And you're sure about the delivery address? It's pretty remote."
"I'm sure."
After I hung up, I stared at my phone for a long moment before calling the number I'd been avoiding all day. Neil didn’t pick up.
I left a message anyway.
"I quit my job. I'm packing up my apartment. I'm coming back to Vermont." The words tumbled out faster than I intended. "I made a mistake leaving. I know I did. And I don't know if you will even want to see me after what I did, but I'm coming back anyway because I can't not come back.”
THE TRAIN LEFT BOSTON at nine the next morning. I watched the city disappear behind me and tried not to think about all the ways this could go wrong.
What if Neil didn't want me back? What if I'd broken something that couldn't be fixed? What if three days really wasn't enough to build a life on?
But the alternative was staying in Boston, accepting Pemberton's erasure, going back to being invisible. And I'd rather risk everything for a chance at being seen than spend the rest of my life being unhappy.
The train ride took four hours. The bus from Burlington took another two. By the time I got to Burke, it was after seven in the evening, and the small station was empty.
And Neil's cabin was at least ten miles up a mountain road that I had no way of reaching.
I sat on the bench and tried not to panic.
I'd quit my job, broken my lease, packed up my entire life, and traveled six hours to get here. And now I was stranded at a bus station in the dark. Before I could panic, a big shadow stepped out from the side of the building.
"Neil?" I gasped.
He stood there for a moment, just looking at me. Even in the dim light from the station, I could see the exhaustion on his face. The pain. The fear.
"Hi," I said, because sometimes the simplest words are all you have.
"You came back."
"I came back."
He moved closer, still keeping distance between us. Like he wasn't sure if I was real or if I'd disappear again.
"I hurt you," I said. "I know I did. I left when you needed me to stay. I proved every fear you've ever had about yourself."
"You did."
The blunt admission stung, but I deserved it.
"I'm sorry. Not for bringing the documents to be preserved, they needed proper care.
But for leaving you. For making you think three days didn't matter.
They did." I stood, needing him to see my face.
"I was terrified. Of being a burden. Of taking up too much space in your life.
Of mattering too much and then losing it. "
"And now?"
"I should have found a place in Vermont to take care of the documents.”
“I don’t care about the documents right now,” he said. “I’ve been here all day waiting for you.”
“Oh Neil,” I ran into his arms and hugged him. “I'm terrified that I've ruined this beyond repair."
"Why did you come back?"
"I want you. I want this. I want to build a life on this mountain and wake up in your bed every morning. And I know three days isn't very long to base a life on, but I also know that three days with you taught me more about who I want to be than six years in Boston ever did."
Neil was silent, but he held me tightly.
"If you don't want me back, I understand. I'll figure out what to do next. But I needed you to know that I came back. That I chose you. That three days did matter."
"I’ll never let you go again."
I pressed my face into his shirt and tried not to cry. "I'm sorry," I said into the fabric. "I'm so sorry."
"I gave you an out because part of me expected you to take it."
"We're both idiots."
"Yeah, we are." He pulled back just enough to look at my face. "You really quit your job?"
"Told Pemberton I was done being invisible so he could feel important."
"And the documents?"
"Properly preserved at the university library. But I'm working with the Vermont Historical Society as an independent researcher. My name. My discovery. My research."
"You're really staying."
"If you'll have me. I know I have a lot to figure out. Where to live, how to pay my loans, but I'm not going back to being a footnote in someone else’s research."
"You're staying with me. In my cabin. In my bed. In my life. That's not negotiable."
"I don't want to be a burden."
"Stop." He cupped my face in his large hands. "You're not a burden. You never were. I want you here. I want to wake up with you every morning and watch you get excited about historical documents. I want all of you."
"Even after I left?"
"Especially after you came back." He rested his forehead against mine. "You scared me. It made me think I wasn't enough. That three days weren’t real."
"It's real. It's the most real thing I've ever had."
"Then stay. Build a life here. Let me love you the way you deserve to be loved. Come on," Neil said. "Let's go home."
Home.