47. Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Seven
Fever Dream
SAL
Almost Three Weeks Ago
Budapest felt like a fever dream. Harmon would attend his art gallery meetings and then come back to Sal in their opulent hotel.
Between all the dizzy evenings and days filled with shiny new things were moments of silence, and in the silence, Sal thought of Rafa.
She thought of Kimmy and Hana, and her favorite spot on the porch overlooking quiet sunrises in St. Stephenshire.
She wondered how Ted was faring at her favorite coffee shop, or if Willow ever recreated ensaymadas back home.
Home—the concept seemed distant. She thought of what home meant, and strangely, Rafa’s bright smile flashed in her mind.
Some time ago, she belonged to someone. Today, she was free, and what a great love Harmon was, but something didn’t feel right.
All that time in Budapest, Harmon gave her the world. They attended lavish parties. He introduced her to many brilliant minds. Some evenings, they got wildly intoxicated and woke up the next day elated by each other’s scent.
The stillness after those nights was always the hardest. One morning, when she woke up from the high of having every single thing she ever wanted, Sal sat up, thinking about how fleeting it all was. Despite loving Harmon wildly, this was not the life she had in mind.
She turned to Harmon and simply asked, “Hey, what do you think of going back to St. Stephenshire?”
He stroked her back and asked, “What for?”
“I just miss home.”
It was probably the liquor from the previous night, but she could have sworn he lightly scoffed at her mentioning the word home.
“We don’t need a home, Sal. We are nomads—we only belong to each other.
” Harmon had a way with words, and each time he spoke, she felt herself falling in love all over again.
But too much of a good thing didn’t feel right, and she knew she was suppressing something she wanted—Sal indeed wanted a home. She wanted something sustainable and steadfast. She braced herself for a conversation that would change the course of their relationship.
“When we first got together, you told me to be honest with you. Well, I am being honest now…and I think this isn’t what I want,” she said.
For the rest of the conversation, she told him she loved him but didn’t want the same things he did, and he made promises she knew he couldn’t possibly keep.
“If this relationship isn’t for you, then we can change it,” he said without question.
They were both so uniquely alike, she and Harmon, but their trajectories were so far apart.
It wasn’t enough to hold the same scars and be the same person; you also had to tread the same path.
They were soulmates who had met in the wrong lifetime.
Harmon surprisingly took it well. Still, he offered her options.
The idea of staying with this man was tempting, but Sal knew he would just compromise for her, and she had seen now that what he offered wouldn’t sustain them.
He held her tightly in his lean, muscular arms. “I know now that when people leave, it’s because of them and not because of me.
This will still damn well hurt…” he said, his voice sounding bruised, “but I meant it when I said that I’d never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do. ”
“Thank you, Harmon, for everything...” she said with cheeks streaked with tears. Sal knew that the happiness he offered was bright but fleeting for her, and that she had given up a love with Rafa that was quiet but steadfast. She mourned the loss of both when Harmon made peace and let her go.
“I love you,” he whispered as she packed her bags and said goodbye.
“And I love you, but I need to love myself too.”
She left shortly after, and all she could do all the way back was ponder the decisions that brought her there, and of all the things she could have done differently, if she had only known.
***
Sal lifted her luggage, as heavy as her heart, into the back of the taxi.
Her heart steadied as the car drove from Eugene Airport to St. Stephenshire.
She had been on this route many times before, first upon losing Claire, and now upon leaving Harmon and choosing to be on her own.
The drive allowed her to breathe a little as the bright sun and white-tipped mountains greeted her once more.
As soon as Sal entered her cottage, she heard a sound that felt like sweet music to her ears.
“Meow…”
In a flash, a white and orange ball of fur ran to her and stretched its little body up to greet her.
It was Kimmy, her soul animal. Sal collapsed to her knees and held her cat in her arms. She heard her purr and felt the familiar roughness of her cat’s tongue on the side of her head.
“Hey, my girl…” Sal said, tears welling up in her eyes.
“It’s been too long. I’ll never leave you again.
This is where I’m supposed to be,” she whispered.
Soon, Hana appeared and started meowing.
When Sal scratched the back of her ears, the Persian cat also let out a loud purr.
“I’ve missed you too, Hana.” Sal smiled and wiped her tears.
Sal thought of Rafa and wondered if she should tell him she was back.
Maybe not, she thought with remorse. He must have moved on, or must have hated her by now.
Honestly, she didn’t blame him. Who wouldn’t feel slighted after everything he had been through for her?
What was left except picking up the pieces on her own and going back to her former life?
Despite everything she had lost, and though the journey was long and winding, Sal had finally found her footing.
For now, it was a sunny morning in early January, and she had all this time with her cats.
She lifted Kimmy into her arms and stared at the lush meadow from the front window.
Hana climbed onto the end table and positioned herself against the windowsill.
Together, all three of them faced the sight of a new day, and for a brief moment, Sal felt she had made her peace.
A weight had somehow lifted off her shoulders, and she could breathe easier.
She took a deep breath and wondered what this moment was teaching her.
After a long pause, she came to realize one thing: that in a world of newness and novelty, sometimes staying rooted in a place that nourishes us is an act of growth.
There is a sense of resistance in refusing the urge to want more, in admitting to yourself that what you have is enough.
This was where she was meant to be, whether it was with Rafa, Harmon, or on her own.
As long as she had her cottage, her books, and her cats, she had finally come home.