Chapter 40
FORTY
“ But remember the pain of parting from friends will be felt by everybody at times, whatever be their education or state .”
~Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility
E lle couldn’t sleep. Nightmares, roaming thoughts, and tossing and turning hadn’t returned. Rather, the looming reality of waking up to pack the last of her things, say goodbye to so much. The farmhouse she’d called home over the last few weeks, her office in the Little Red Barn. To her family. To Fitz. To Perry. But most especially, to Clayton.
Some of those goodbyes, such as to her family, would just be a “See you soon.” They deserved to have her there for the special occasions and holidays and she deserved to be with them.
Clayton, however, would be a Goodbye with a capital G. She had told him that it wouldn’t be like before, that she’d be back. She told him she wanted him in her life. Those were promises she would break. He deserved his “Lizzie,” his everything. His every day.
Once her suitcases were loaded in the rental car, she would drive away, never to return to him. It would break her heart. She hated it, but she could put it back together. Hadn’t the last thirty days shown her that?
All night she lay spooned with Clayton, his arms tight around her waist, as if not wanting to let go. Her head rested in his warm nook, listening to the rhythm of his breaths. Clayton fell in and out of sleep most of the night. His eyes remained closed but occasionally he tightened his arms, or sleepily pressed his lips to her neck or shoulder.
In the morning, when it was not quite daylight, Clayton’s fingers trailed down her spine. He inhaled sharply but didn’t speak. They lay blanketed in the quiet darkness, both awake but not yet ready to pierce the thick silence with words.
“Are you awake?” Clayton murmured, his voice hoarse.
“Yes.”
“Did you sleep at all?”
In the darkness, Elle couldn’t make out his expression but sensed the concerned knit of his brow as he looked at her.
“No.” she said. “You?”
“Not really.” He exhaled.
“I wonder what time it is.” She started to move to turn toward her phone on the bed stand, but his arms held her tight.
“I’ll check.” He reached for his phone without removing his other arm from her waist. “It’s five-thirty.”
“Okay.” She bit her bottom lip.
“What are you thinking?” He untucked her bottom lip with his finger.
“I know you have to work today and need more sleep…” She trailed off.
“But?” he coaxed gently.
“Can we go to the Greenway for a run?”
“Of course.”
Orange nudged the black sky awake as they ran along the trail. Nobody else was out yet. They ran silently, side-by-side for a while, in the crisp morning air.
As the orange and red glow of the rising sun pushed away the dark sky, Clayton slowed his pace to a gentle jog until he ceased completely, placing his hands on his hips and sucking in air. Wordlessly, Elle joined him, stretching her legs as he paced back and forth.
They hadn’t spoken since Clayton had walked into the bedroom with his keys, asking if she was ready. The deafening tick of the clock counted down their last hours together, overpowering their ability to just be “us.”
“Come here,” Clayton whispered, holding his hand toward her.
Placing her hand in his, he clasped it, and led her up a sloping hill. Once there, he tucked her into his torso, her back pressed to his chest, as he rested his arms around her middle. Inhaling his scent of salty sweat and faint remainder of his citrus body wash, she mirrored his stare, looking toward the east at the waking sun. Its brightening beams were like outstretched arms, yawning awake to welcome the day. Sunsets are the end, the goodbye. Sunrises are the promise of today, the hello. This sunrise went against that. It was their goodbye.
“Last night, Janet asked me if you would be staying with me when you come home at Christmas,” Clayton said, a quake in his voice.
“Clayton…” She didn’t know what to say.
“You didn’t tell me you were co…co…co…coming back for Christmas. We ha…ha…haven’t di..di…di…discussed plans.” He stumbled over the words.
Elle’s heart wagged an accusing finger at her that she caused this. Clayton’s childhood stutter reared when he was tired or emotional. Despite the lack of sleep, she knew his tripping words were all emotions.
“This is goodbye, isn’t it?” Clayton’s tone was flat.
“Yes.” She breathed.
“You said you wa…wa…wanted me in your life.”
Elle closed her eyes, feeling the prick of hot tears forming. She did want him in her life. That was true. That would never stop being true, but there were two lives. His and hers. There was no room for a third, “theirs.”
“Yes, but I also said I didn’t want to give you false hope.” She pulled free of his hold and turned to face him. “It’s not fair to either of us to drag this out. I know this hurts but it’s what’s best.”
“Elle—”
“No!” She held up her hands.
A pained and shocked expression twisted his features.
She wanted to run to him, to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss his lips, soothing away the despair that swam in his gaze. God, I want a do-over. “Clayton, I am so grateful for the time we’ve spent together, but this has to end. I’m sorry.”
“I…” He looked toward the line of trees along the trail.
“You are an extraordinary man and I know that you will find your Lizzie. But, I’m not her. I can’t be,” Elle said with a shaky resolve.
It hurt, but she needed to break her hold over him and free him to find the great love he truly deserved. Whoever she was, she would be blessed to be his “everything.” Elle would hate her just a little but would be indebted to the woman for giving Clayton the future he deserved.
“I’ll miss you.” His exhale sounded defeated.
All she could do was nod. If the words that choked in her throat came out, she’d never be able to let him go and she needed to… For him.
The cab of Clayton’s pickup was heavy with the dull ache of breaking hearts as they drove back to the farmhouse, neither speaking. The crunching gravel was the first sound to break the silence as they pulled up to the farmhouse. Clayton turned the truck off. Elle wasn’t sure what to do, so she looked out the window. The sky was now a warm blue. Cheerful white clouds floated slowly across the sky, a sharp contrast to the dark somber clouds enveloping the truck.
Clayton cleared his throat, his eyes avoiding Elle’s as they looked forward. “I’m going to go for a walk while you pack.”
“Ok.” She opened the door and got out. Keeping her eyes fixed on anything but Clayton, she headed into the farmhouse.
The house was still quiet. Viet and Fitz were likely still sleeping. The three of them wouldn’t leave for the airport for a couple of hours. Their flight was at noon, but they were going to have a quick breakfast at Pete and Janet’s to say goodbye. Tobey and Jerome would be there. Meghan had offered to cover the clinic, allowing both Clayton and Jerome to have breakfast with Elle before she left. However, Elle doubted Clayton would keep those plans. She didn’t blame him. Although, she wondered. He was someone that kept promises he made.
Unlike you. It didn’t feel like a promise at the time, but hadn’t she said she wanted to have him in her life? Hadn’t she agreed to his wanting to take any moment, even future stolen ones? Some promises need to be broken.
Upstairs, she slipped her running clothes off and folded them neatly into a small plastic bag filled with some dirty clothes to pack for the trip to Long Beach.
As she placed the plastic bag beside her open suitcase, she stopped, her gaze captured by the framed photo of the train trellis over the falls at Letchworth. She had bought it for Clayton weeks ago, but was waiting for the best time to give it to him. There hadn’t been a right time, and now, there might never be.
A lump formed in her throat, threatening to strangle her with tears she refused to release. She peered at the photo, manifesting images of them in the scene as she stared. Elle pulled out a small gift bag and put the framed photo inside. Taking the purple Post-Its Clayton had bought her on their trip to Buffalo, she wrote Thank you for everything, Clayton. ~Elle. For a moment she hesitated, almost writing “Love, Elle,” but knew that wouldn’t be right. She placed the bag on his bed stand, beside his half-drunk bottle of water.
The tile was cool against her bare feet as she stepped into the shower. This would be the last time in this shower, and she was alone. She had never been lonely in the shower before. It was the strangest pang in her chest to feel that. Elle closed her eyes, letting the spray’s hot force consume her.
“Elle.” Clayton’s voice was muffled through the closed shower door and beating drops of water.
She turned. The shower’s fogged glass obscured the details of him, but in his fuzzy outline she could see the framed photo in his hands. He raised the photo, looking at it and then back to her before opening the shower door.
“When did you get this?”
“The Friday after the wedding. It made me think of you. I know how special the train trellis is for you and that you go there to be with Evan. I guess I just wanted you to have it, so that you could visit him anytime even if you couldn't be there.” She left out the other reason she gave it to him. So he could have a piece of her, even if he wasn’t aware.
The climb they made that day was so much more than just a walk. That night she would open her body to him, fully, but that morning under the canopy of lush green leaves as they climbed each stone step, she’d opened her heart to him entirely. This little piece of them would remain with him. He may not know it, but she did and that was good enough for Elle.
“If this is goodbye…” he said, placing the photo on the counter turning to face her. His grey eyes capturing her. “…I don’t want my last me…me…me….memory of you to be the Greenway. I want it to be this. I wa…wa…want it to be to…to…to…touching you….ki…ki…kissing you. I wa…wa…wa…want it to be of us being us.”
“Ok.”
“Ok.” he said, undressing. The normally devious lift of his lips was replaced with sorrowful want.
She should have said no. That would have been the kinder thing to do. She couldn’t deny herself this last memory, which would painfully and sweetly idle in her heart.
His strong hands cupped her face as those eyes, shaded darker with sadness, drank her in. Those playful and ravenous kisses were replaced with savoring ones, as if she was the last drop of food he’d ever have. He took her lower lip, the one she bit so often, claiming it as his own. His hands explored her, their tender touch mapping every inch of her as if committing to memory her peaks, valleys, and paths so he would never forget how to traverse the terrain of her body.
Their eyes never left one another the entire time. The sex was an achingly slow, neither seeming to want the moment to end but the quickening of their breaths signaled that their bodies were coming to their climax, to their end. As they finished, Elle pressed against the tiled wall and Clayton holding her tight, she burrowed her head into his neck, allowing a few tears to sneak out.
“Thank you, for everything,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her neck.
“Thank you for everything,” Elle croaked.
Later Elle stood, Fitz in her arms, staring at the farmhouse as Clayton and Viet loaded the luggage in the trunk of her rental. Willa stood beside Elle, gently squeezing her shoulder. A thunk of the trunk closing and murmured “Nice meeting you. Safe travels” between Clayton and Viet made Elle squeeze Fitz just a little harder. Shoes crunched on gravel until those eyes that Elle could swim in for days were staring at her. There was a pat on her shoulder as Willa told her she’d wait in the car.
Elle swallowed the choking lump and with a final kiss to Fitz’s head, handed him over. “Goodbye, Clayton.”
He accepted the pug with a sad smile. “Goodbye, Elle.”
She turned but stopped at the touch of his hand.
“I will miss you.” Clayton placed a trembling kiss on her forehead.
With a matching sad smile, Elle pivoted and walked to her rental, got in, and drove away.
After a short drive in uncomfortable silence, they pulled into Janet and Pete’s driveway.
“Lady Elle!” Jerome waved from the front porch as Elle stepped out of the car. “Viscount Viet and Queen Willa!” A reckless smile was sketched on his face as he jumped down the stairs. He swung Elle up in a bear hug.
The yellow cottage’s living room was once again transformed into their celebratory dining room. A glass vase with purple carnations sat in the center of the temporary table, surrounded by tiny purple starfish shaped confetti thrown around the table. A large banner hung from the ceiling saying See You Soon, Elle .
Her heart stuttered at that message. It wasn’t “Goodbye,” it was “See You Soon.” She had told her uncle that it wouldn’t be like before. This time when she left Perry, she would come back. She’d come back home to them. This banner told her that they believed her.
Elle sat at the table between her uncle and cousin. Nobody asked about Clayton. There had been a hushed conversation between Viet and Tobey when they first arrived and some stolen glances between Pete and Viet as they sat. Elle had only told her friends that Clayton wouldn’t be joining them for breakfast, leaving it at that.
Breakfast wasn’t a sad event. There was lots of laughter, wistful chatter about Elle’s trip, discussion of plans for Christmas, and asking what Elle would do when she got back home.
“I’ll unpack,” she said flatly, shifting in her seat.
“Nothing you’re itching to do when you get back?” A quizzical frown pulled at the corner of Janet’s lips.
She said nothing.
“Brunch.” Willa interjected. “The brunch game in the LBC is tight. We go a few times a month.”
“Yoga at the Bluff and running along the beach path,” Viet added, squeezing her shoulder.
She wasn’t sure if her friends filled in the blanks for her aunt or to remind Elle of what she enjoyed from her life there.
“All those things,” Elle confirmed, then took a long drink of her tea, allowing the hot liquid to push that lump back down.
Later, as Elle washed her hands in the bathroom, she stared into the mirror. Her first day in Perry felt like three days in one. That day had dragged on and on.
Now, today felt like mere seconds. Walking down the hallway back to the living room, Pete stopped her and tucked her into a tight hug.
“Thank you for coming back, kiddo. I’ve loved having you here.” He kissed her temple.
“I’ve loved being here.” She coughed to hide the tremble in her voice. “Thanks for having me.”
“You always have a place here.”He placed her hand on top of his heart. “I love you, kiddo.”
“I love you too, Uncle Pete.” She looked up at him, catching the sad twinkle in his eye.
“I’m your only uncle.” He smirked.
“My one and only.” She rested her head on his shoulder as he embraced her.
Aunt Janet, of course, cried. Her eyes were already watery as she squeezed Elle, her petite frame packing an affectionate punch as she held tight.
Hoisting her purse onto her shoulder, she said goodbye to Jerome and Tobey. Then her gaze dropped to Pete and Janet, who stood on the porch. She’d lost her biological parents so long ago but standing in front of her were two people that had been, and were still, willing to fill that role. “Thank you. I love you both.”
With watery smiles, they both mouthed love you .
“I’ll miss you.” Tobey looped his arms around Elle’s shoulders, walking her to her rental car. Lt. Scout trotted beside them. “Who’s going to help me manage those two in there?” He cocked his head toward the house where Pete and Janet shuffled back inside.
“You’ve got Jerome,” she teased.
“Not the same,” he chuckled, checking to make sure his husband was still on the porch talking to Viet. “He finds their antics delightful.”
“I think you find it just as delightful.” She winked.
“Yes, but I also have the good sense to be mortified when Dad drops it like it's hot. As do you.”
“True, but we wouldn’t change them.”
“Never.” he sighed happily. “We’re lucky to be theirs.”
“Yes, we are.” Her heart squeezed. “I remember when you were a baby. Your mom and dad let me hold you. I was so little myself and couldn’t believe they’d trust me with something so tiny….so precious. I held you tight, making sure I didn’t drop or hurt you.”
“I’m pretty sturdy.” He tapped his flat stomach, wincing in the realization that this was one of his dad’s mannerisms.
She smiled. “That you are.”
“Text us when you land and when you get home,” Tobey commanded in the same gentle tone Elle had heard through the years from his dad.
Our dad.
She saluted mockingly. “Will do, Officer Coates.”
“That’s State Trooper Coates.” He nudged her side with his elbow.