Chapter 35
Chapter thirty-five
Liam
Idrive for a long time. Hours slip by as I aimlessly take exits and drive along unfamiliar roads, my mind in a constant state of yelling.
How could she do this? How could I do this—give someone this kind of power over me?
When my vision starts to blur from the tired rage, I finally pull over on a quiet country highway, killing the engine. I punch the steering wheel, unintentionally blasting the horn.
“This was your own fault,” I lecture myself. “If you hadn’t handed her your trust, she couldn’t have betrayed you. This is why you don’t let people in, you idiot. And now you’ve set yourself up for even more disaster—quitting your job, moving to Noel. What were you thinking?”
I drop my head to my hands, pressing my fingers hard against my closed eyes.
You were thinking that you loved her. That any path was worth it as long as she was on it too.
Leaning my forehead against the steering wheel, I groan.
My self-preservation instincts flare up, telling me it’s time to cut bait with Madison before things get worse. That maybe I’m just not meant to find the kind of love that heals more than it hurts.
Maybe I’m not cut out for love, period. Maybe I’ve been right all along—I don’t have “people.” The concept is a myth, just like love that outweighs risk. Nonexistent.
But then, I think about the way Clark looks at Clara, especially knowing his background.
I think about Davis and Sydney two-stepping at the Deer River Bar when no one else was dancing, completely smitten with each other despite being years into marriage.
I want the kind of love I see in them—I want it with Madison.
I think about everyone’s enthusiastic response to my announcement that I’d be staying.
Sydney’s offer to decorate my new apartment.
Clark’s invitation to their post-Christmas Fest guys’ weekend to decompress at a secluded cabin.
Davis asking if I’d like to dress up as an elf on one of the nights to row the boat holding the letters to Santa (a hard pass from me).
Becky floating the idea of offering pour overs at her coffee shop if I’d teach her how to make them properly.
I’m surprised by the tears that spring to my eyes. I want these to be my people. I want to have people. Can it all really be true if I just want it enough?
For all of my adult life, I’ve been respected—even feared at times. But what I’ve experienced here in Noel feels a lot more like love. Love that tastes like belonging and acceptance. And I don’t want to give that up, despite the pain of betrayal I’m currently feeling.
I don’t want to give up Madison.
Turning on the ignition of my SUV, I pull up the GPS to figure out how to get back to Noel from wherever I am.
As I drive home, I mull over everything Madison said during our fight.
That she wanted me to be her boyfriend, not her business coach.
That she didn’t want to admit to me that she was failing.
She’s right. Every time she’s brought up her business, I’ve always pushed her, sometimes harshly. No wonder she was afraid to tell me that it wasn’t working. I have to figure out how to turn off the “fix it” switch when she just needs to talk. I need to apologize.
After another hour of driving and reflecting, I pull up to the house at 3:00 a.m.
Madison’s car is gone.
Running inside, I check her bed just in case I was hallucinating. Hamlet is hiding under the Christmas tree in her room but comes sprinting out as soon as I step into his view. “Where’s Madison, my friend?” I ask, picking him up.
Meow.
He looks at me with sadness and accusation.
Pulling out my phone, I try calling Madison. When she doesn’t answer, I send a text.
ME
Where are you? I just got back and was hoping we could talk more.
After a couple of minutes with no reply, I try calling again. She still doesn’t answer, so I send another text.
ME
MJ. I need to know that you’re safe. Where are you?
MJ
I’m fine. I decided to drive part of the way to Nebraska tonight so I can get to the farm earlier tomorrow. I stopped at a hotel in Missouri a little bit ago.
I’m not sure what else we have to talk about. You seemed pretty certain about your view of things.
Sighing, I sit down on the couch, trying to think of what to say. I need the tennis ball from my office right now. I settle for tapping my fist against my knee instead.
ME
I’m sorry I blew up. You caught me really off guard in a way that made me feel like I never should have lowered my guard.
I’m sorry that I’ve pushed you so hard with MJE that you didn’t feel safe to talk to me about it.
I should have been your boyfriend listening to you and not a fixer prescribing solutions.
I don’t know exactly where we go from here. But I do want to figure it out together. There has to be some sort of solution that gives you financial security while staying in Noel. While staying together.
MJ
I need some time to think. Time to cool down from being defensive and angry so I can think clearly.
ME
Ok. You can have time.
If I call, will you please answer? I need to say something to you not over text.
There’s a short pause, but then the phone rings.
“Yes?” Madison says when I answer.
“I just need to explain one thing,” I say.
“I am worried about what this job offer means for us. I am anxious about what it might mean for me because I don’t want to lose you.
But, MJ, I’m upset about this job offer primarily because you deserve better.
What they did to you was an unjust way to treat one of their most reliable employees.
You shouldn’t have to go back just because they’re crawling to you on their knees now that they lost clients and realized they screwed up. You’re worth more than that, love.”
There’s silence on Madison’s end aside from a quiet sniff.
“Please think about that as you’re taking time to think, okay?” I plead.
“Okay,” she replies quietly. “Bye, Liam.”
The call ends.