Chapter 31
All my belongings are packed and shipped, but Adam’s condo is still full. I’m surrounded by all the furniture he bought for us. My mom’s medical expenses are still gobbling up every spare penny in my bank account. I didn’t pay for the couch, coffee table, the bed, or bedroom set, so why would I take it?
Still, Adam insists.
“I bet Noa and Chase’s guesthouse is empty, Amani. You should let me ship everything to you,” Adam says as he leans against the kitchen island. “You said money was tight, right?”
“You already fixed my car and had it shipped,” I grumble. More accurately, Adam paid for my car to be rebuilt. I refused to take his Porsche. He offered, but I swear he looked relieved when I declined. Then he even went as far as arranging transport for my car so I didn’t have to make the long drive back to Denver. “I don’t want to take anything else from you.”
“You took nothing from me, Amani.”
I study the wrinkles on his forehead that seem permanently fixed on his face. For the past month, as we arranged my move back to Denver, Adam’s face has been set in a scowl. I know it was his idea, but he’s still hurt over it. At first, I tried to ignore it. I told Adam I was fine, and I wanted to stay here in L.A. and be with him, but I felt more lost than ever.
I was sad for the rest of February, but of course, that was expected. I was grieving. There were no major physical ramifications to the early miscarriage, but the emotional wreckage was rough. I think I was mostly angry about being strung along. What was the point? If it wasn’t meant to be, why did it drag out for so long? I made my peace when I was told I wasn’t pregnant. Why was I handed my dreams for them to be ripped away only a few days later?
Why did I have to break Adam’s heart in the process, too? To this day, I wish I didn’t tell him. Had I kept my mouth shut, only one of us would hurt right now. What you don’t know can’t break your heart.
Adam stayed nearby for the first two weeks after the emergency room visit, but eventually, he had to go back to work. But he was distracted and admitted more than once he was screwing things up left and right. Mr. Montgomery had a good day, and because I wasn’t feeling up for a visit, Adam only left me for a few hours. Normally, he spends all day with his dad. I shortened him precious time with his father. I was draining both of us.
Once, I volunteered to watch Carson so Tara and Alex could go to dinner. Adam studied me like a hawk, so I went extra hard, faking my enthusiasm. But honestly, I was miserable. The first time I watched Carson back in summer of last year, I was full of hope. The second, I was full of envy. Shortly after that, I stopped getting out of bed.
I left Denver to run from this version of me. But the old Amani was back. Up and down energy. Dark skies. Ungenuine smiles. Just begging to be left alone. Except this time, I couldn’t distract myself with doom scrolling.
By March, my influencer business was obsolete. My once manic, obsessive need to create content and police the trolls was over. I even deleted my accounts so I wasn’t tempted to backtrack. Sometimes easy money is tempting. But I have to remember the actual cost… My sanity.
I was officially alone with my thoughts. I fantasized about a new city. Not L.A., not home, just somewhere no one knew me so I didn’t have to try to be myself. I could be anyone…
I could be sad.
The next time Adam brought up Denver, it wasn’t a gentle nudge. He asked me if I was happy. I told him the truth…no, not even close. He asked me what I wanted. I wasn’t sure. Then, he asked me what I needed. That answer was easiest… I needed home. Of course he knew all along and was waiting for me to come to the same conclusion. Once I said the word, he hopped into action and made all the arrangements for me. I didn’t have to lift a finger. He took care of me the way he had since day one.
We talked, and we planned, but now that it’s time to go, I’m wondering what the hell I’m doing. Why am I walking away from what should’ve been my happily ever after?
“Are you going to be okay?” I ask, pressing my hands against Adam’s chest. He’s wearing such a thin black T-shirt, I can feel his scarce chest hair. He wraps his arms around me and breathes me in.
“I’m going to miss how you smell,” he says.
I smile against his pec. “I actually left you my shampoo.”
He chuckles. “Thank you. It won’t be quite the same, though.”
I melt into his hug, trying to savor it. The smell of his light cologne, which he swears he doesn’t wear. I’m not convinced. Soap and deodorant don’t smell this good. Adam only tries to pretend he’s not fancy. “Can I ask you a question?” I murmur.
“Of course,” he says before planting his lips on the top of my head. Yet another thing I’ll miss.
“You still love me?” I ask.
“So much.”
“Then why are you letting me go? Why aren’t you fighting for me?”
“Oh, summer girl,” he says in a somber tone. “I would, baby, but it’s not my fight.”
“What?”
“Come here,” he says, taking my hand and guiding me to the couch. He sits and pats the cushion next to me. I take a seat and he pivots, ensuring I’m looking into his eyes. “I’m not supporting all this because I want to. Amani, I want to lock you in a box and keep you forever. I want to fill all the gaps, keep you safe, keep you mine. But I’ve learned that’s the fastest way to break someone. It’s what my dad did to my mom.”
“What do you mean?” I run my hand over his athletic pants, enjoying the cool, slick feeling under my palm.
“My mom and I have been talking.”
“I know.”
“She never tried to justify why she left, but she explained. Her life was so wrapped up in taking care of my dad and his career, then Alex, and then me. Motherhood was so much of a distraction that she wasn’t taking care of herself. She didn’t have the time and space to think about what she needed. Her entire life was wrapped up in our identities. She described it as waking up every day and performing for the world. Put on a smile, only feel what’s convenient for others, only say what everyone wants to hear. I imagine that’s what your life has been like.”
I nod along. It’s like he’s reading my narrative. Although, Holly’s story is a bit more admirable. She got lost trying to keep her family happy. I got lost in pleasing the internet—which is an impossible task. I was always doomed to fail.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, okay?” Adam cringes as he looks at me, asking for permission to continue.
“Okay.”
“I wish the pregnancy had gone to term. I’ll forever wish we were going to be parents together. But at least now, you won’t get lost in a baby. And I don’t want you to get lost in me, either. I want you to find your happiness, Amani. Then maybe one day, you’ll come back to me. But right now, you need to go home and heal, and I need to give you the space to do that.”
I will not ask Adam to come with me. I already know his answer, and while I understand, I don’t want to hear the rejection.
“Well, thank you for loving me enough to let me go.”
“Thank you for loving me enough to admit you need to go.”
I push against his shoulder playfully. “I guess after today, you’re a free agent. Single and ready to mingle.” I’m trying to joke, but the words make me sick. Adam and I agreed it was best not to be together without actually being together. Long distance is a lot of painful longing that would probably lead to the same result, especially when I wasn’t sure what my next moves were. All I should focus on is getting help and feeling better. It made sense in my mind…just not in my heart.
“Just because I’m not with you doesn’t mean I won’t be thinking about you. I fully plan on being lonely for a long time.”
I smirk. “Would a few nudes here and there help?”
He laughs. “Definitely. Maybe put your piercing back in first.”
“You got it, summer guy.” I run my hand against his hard abs. “I mean, there might be a little time for one more sexy sendoff?” It’s a half-hearted offer. Sex changed for us. Between the miscarriage and my growing depression, physical intimacy wasn’t at the forefront of either of our minds.
He flashes me a quick smile, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. “We don’t want you to miss your flight.” But I know what he’s really saying. If we’re going to let go…
We need to let go.