36. Ian
THIRTY-SIX
IAN
I never could have predicted I’d be wearing a party hat when I realized I’m in love. It was festive, at least. But in the moment, I couldn’t even regret the ridiculous thing. When I opened that compass, all the pieces clicked together, and I knew . Tess is the one. She sees me in a way I haven’t let anyone try in years. Maybe ever. She accepts me for the man I am today—and that just makes me want to be a better one tomorrow. She’s the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, now and forever.
My heart stutters in my chest as I finish loading her dishwasher. Forever isn’t a word I’m familiar with. Most things in my life, no matter how good, have been temporary. A collection of excellent memories, fun while they last, but they don’t stick around. And a few months ago, I would have thought the idea of the one as juvenile. Something out of fairy tales, not real life.
But now? I know that angel is meant to be mine.
“August is ready to say goodnight.”
I look over my shoulder to find Tess smiling softly from his doorway. She’s been getting him ready for bed while I finish the after-party clean up. Another small, domestic thing I want more of. I just want to be with her, in whatever capacity she’ll let me.
I dry off my hands and head into August’s darkened room. He’s illuminated by his night light, tucked up in bed, his arm around the T-rex I gave him. Dutch is curled up next to him, already used to this new sleeping arrangement.
My phone’s wallpaper is a picture of the two of them in their party hats.
I sit on the bed beside him. “Did you have a good birthday?”
“So good. Did you have a good birthday?” He giggles at the reminder we share the day.
“The best.” The happiest. The most significant. All the superlatives.
“Will you take me on a hike one day?” he asks. He overheard some of the conversation between Griffin, Steven, and me. “A big hike? Up a whole mountain?”
“Anything you want.” And I mean it. Mountains, lakes, valleys—there’s nowhere I wouldn’t go for him. He owns my heart as much as his mom does.
“And help me ride my bike?”
“I think you’re doing a pretty good job already. But absolutely.”
He nods. “Okay. Night, Ian.”
“Goodnight, buddy.” I kiss his forehead and leave the room, calling Dutch to follow.
In the kitchen, Tess is waiting for me. My heart thumps a painful beat, desperate to get closer to her. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”
The bone-deep need to tell her I love her is being edged out by nerves, of all things. I have no experience with these kinds of conversations. Declarations. Am I supposed to do something romantic, set the scene, just blurt it out and lay everything on the line?
I’ve never said those words to a woman before. The idea feels like a steeper climb than I would have thought. It’s a bit like those dreams where I’m back in high school, taking an important test I didn’t study for, and also, I forgot to put on pants. I’ve never felt so unqualified.
I’m fully clothed, at least, but drastically unprepared.
“Maybe we could go outside?” she says.
I nod and follow her onto the back patio. Stars shine overhead, our faces visible by the soft glow coming from her apartment. I thought we were heading to the deck chairs or maybe the coals in the fire pit, but Tess stands at the edge of the patio, her arms wrapped around herself.
“Hard to say, but I think August had a good time,” I tell her.
Especially when we played the game where people randomly get splatted in the face by a dollop of whipped cream. Wren, Griffin, and I got messy, but August came out unscathed. I don’t want to call the kid a cheater, but…
She exhales a soft laugh. “Pretty sure he’ll never forget it.”
She winces as if something hurts, like the night I tended her scraped elbow.
I move a step closer. “What’s wrong?”
She shrugs, her expression hard to read in the weak light.
I rub a hand across her upper back. “Talk to me, angel.”
All the discussion about her cake business might have been too much, right there in front of her mom. Hopefully, it didn’t make her doubt herself or what she wants. She was a vision this afternoon, so certain she’s ready to take this next step for herself. I don’t want her to let that spark die out.
Tess sucks in a breath like she’s preparing to dive into the ocean. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Do what?” But I already know. I hear it in her voice. It’s not her cake business she’s doubting. It’s me.
My ribcage aches as if someone’s tightening a slip knot around me.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to keep seeing each other…like this.”
Funny how a whisper can echo louder than any shout. My ears pound with it.
I let my hand fall away from her back, all the words I wanted to say to her disintegrating like ice in a lava flow. The feelings behind them don’t fade, though. They burn me up from the inside.
“Why not?” As if I want to know all the reasons she thinks I’m not a good bet. I could list them for her. Just give me a paper and pen.
“I need to make good decisions.” She’s stoic, like she’s reading off a notecard, something she planned in advance to say when the time was right.
Or everything went wrong.
“And I would be a bad decision.” It’s not even a question. Of course I would. I’m thirty-seven and I’ve never had a lasting relationship. I’m out of work and not even looking for a job. I don’t know the first thing about being a good dad to August.
Why does that one feel like the biggest failure of all?
She turns to face me. “How long are you staying in Sunshine?”
Her soft question might as well be an accusation. But of course Tess would soften the blow as much as she can. She’s kind as she slices me to ribbons.
“I don’t know.” No job, no plans, no prospects. No wonder she thinks this would be a mistake. What do I have to offer her?
“I’ve got August to think about. He’s already so attached to you, I don’t know how he’ll handle it when you leave.”
The idea of hurting him makes my own heart ache, but he’s not the one I’m thinking of most right now. “And you? Is this just about protecting August’s feelings?”
Her gentle smile is a knife finding its mark between my ribs. “I’m attached to you, too.”
I take her shoulders, clinging to that scrap of hope. Maybe I can still save this, save us. “Angel?—”
“But you’re not staying.” Her voice breaks as a tear tracks down her cheek. “You have a business and a life to get back to. And I’ll be left to pick up the pieces when you leave. I need to do what’s best for us.”
“And that’s not me.”
Her sad smile is the deathblow that finally splits my cracking heart in two.
“I’m sorry, Ian.”
I brush the tear on her cheek away with my thumb. “So am I.”
I drop my hands from her, closing her tear into my fist. She seems to struggle over what else to say but must decide she’s said enough. After a minute, she goes into the house with a soft “goodbye.”
I sit in the deck chair closest to me, crumbling away. The smell of gasoline and motor oil come back to me, the air seemingly thick with it. I just spun out again, but this time, I don’t have the heart to save myself.
I just bleed out.