CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jamie – Now
As I expected, Brent’s response was less than enthusiastic.
The barrage of communication over the last five days has been overwhelming to say the least. He by no means believes I should be taking a sabbatical right now.
His words exactly? You’ll be throwing away everything you’ve worked for by turning your back on another deal with Fog City Book Group.
But I’m exhausted from the grind of the past six years, and I just want a break. I need to find my love of storytelling again, need for it to feel like it used to—less like a job and more like a passion.
I dig around in my side table, looking for the notebook I threw in on a whim while panic packing for this trip. It’s the notebook my mum gave me, the leather worn and cracking, and it’s filled with tales of my youth—of Avi’s youth. The stories of our summers together.
Folded into the back is a printed copy of the short story I wrote last winter. One centered around the adventures I’d planned for me and Avi in our final summer together, the ones I’d wanted to go on with her but that never happened—because she wasn’t here.
It was cathartic to write them as if they had, but it also hurt like hell to realize they’d never be real. That story would always be fiction—something I made up to fill the void of missed opportunities.
I scootch back against my pillows and flip through the notebook, watching my handwriting become more and more precise. Taking in the way my writing grew and changed. Seeing how I played around with different styles throughout the years.
I wonder what the teenage version of me would say if I told him what his future looked like—that he’d be a bestselling adventure-fiction writer at twenty-eight with three published books to his name.
It’s hard to regret the past when I know each choice and decision led to that success.
Moving to the States with my parents. Deciding to stay there for college, where I met my mentor—a man who sculpted me and helped hone my writing so I’d have a book to query my agent with.
But at the end of the day, no matter how much I love my life and my career, I can acknowledge that it came at a great cost.
And I’m not willing to continue to sacrifice everything else for that goal. No matter how mad that makes Brent.
I’m here to reconnect with my roots, my family… That is the new goal.
Now I have to decide how Avi being here fits into that…
We can’t go back to the way things were between us—I know that—but I’m done existing in this standoff with her.
If I gleaned anything from her conversation with her mum the other day, it was her concern about bringing Lennox up here with the way things are. I don’t want her to keep him away because I’m being an ass.
It’s been ten years, it’s probably time I let go of all the hurt associated with that time. I owe it to myself to try.
With that as my motivation, I head downstairs only to glimpse Avi walking down the garden path in the direction of the street. Acting on a whim, I go after her and let my long legs consume the space between us until I’m close enough to call out.
“Avi!” I shout, letting her nickname slip from between my lips for the second time. Withholding it was my way of keeping my walls up, but it was only hurting me, and maybe her too.
She spins on her heel, blonde hair flying around her face. The wariness behind her eyes tells me she’s preparing for the inevitable fight. But I’m not interested in fighting with her. Not today. Not anymore.
I don’t know what I want where she’s concerned, but an end to this animosity would be a good start.
“Where you headed?” I ask, stopping just inside her personal space.
This is the closest we’ve been since everything broke between us, but I feel that same rippling current of energy.
It’s like our bodies recognize each other—as if the last time they were this close was yesterday and not eleven years ago.
Her gaze searches mine and I wonder if she feels it too. “Into the village,” she says, and tilts her head in the direction of Cluaran’s small high street.
“Can I walk with you?” I ask, my feet already moving and forcing her to fall into step beside me.
“I guess so,” she says under her breath, and the sass behind it almost makes me smile. The girl I knew is still in there somewhere.
The gravel underneath our shoes is the only sound between us for several moments. I miss the days where we could say anything to each other, where we didn’t have these pregnant pauses filled with doubt.
I unconsciously move a step closer until my shoulder brushes hers—pulled to her in the same way I always have been—but she sidesteps away.
“Look—” I say.
“Jamie—” she says at the same time. We both pause, and the smallest smile tilts her lips before she traps them between her teeth.
I capitalize on her silence and continue. “I’m sorry for how I’ve acted since you arrived. I was surprised to see you, and after everything… well, I guess I don’t know how to be around you anymore, Avi.”
“And you think I do?” she snaps, a fire burning in her eyes before she squeezes them shut and shakes her head. “I’m sorry,” she breathes. “Clearly I’m not sure how to feel about this situation either.”
She keeps her eyes down and kicks at a piece of gravel with the toe of her boot, an outward tell of her inner frustration.
“I don’t expect things to go back to the way they were before, but we’re both here and not going anywhere anytime soon.” I swipe a hand through my hair, feeling unsure of my next words. “Maybe we can try to be friends? Or at least not enemies?”
She lifts her head, her deep brown eyes finding my green ones. “I’ve never thought of you as my enemy, Jamie.”
She could’ve fooled me, but I don’t say that. I’m trying to apologize and need to remember that just because I’m ready to say I’m sorry doesn’t mean she is. I may believe I deserve those words from her, but I have to be okay with never getting them.
“I’m sorry. For the way things ended between us. I didn’t think—”
“Please, don’t.” She stops and squeezes her eyes shut like she’s in pain. “I—Jamie, I—”
There’s something imploring in her gaze when she opens her eyes, and it bores into me like she wants to tell me something but can’t find a way to do it.
I wonder if the little game we used to play might help her get the words out. “Truth?” I ask with an encouraging smile.
Her reaction is nothing like I expect. Her eyes go wide and she sucks in a sharp breath, stepping back from me and stumbling off the curb and into the street.
I reach for her on instinct, grabbing her by the upper arms and pulling her into me as a car horn blares. The small sedan whizzes by, Gaelic expletives flying from the elderly gentleman behind the wheel.
“Fuck. Avi, are you okay?” My words puff out against her hair and her chest moves rapidly against my own.
I put an inch of space between us, just enough so I can look at her.
She’s shaking like a leaf and tears pool in her eyes, but she quickly averts them so I can’t see.
It’s too late, and I was never good at watching her cry.
I crush her back to me and hold her while her tears stain my shirt.
“God, Avi. Shhh, you’re okay. I’ve got you. ”
I run my hand up and down her back, muscle memory taking over. Touching her feels like it always did. Hugging her… kissing her… everything we ever did felt like home, and I can’t deny that even this small moment when she’s letting me hold her feels that way.
I wish we could stay here and forget everything else, but as Avi’s shuddering slows, I feel her pulling away, even before she physically does.
Bringing her arms between us, she swipes away the tear tracks on her face. She doesn’t look at me. Mindful of the curb this time, she eases back and says, “I think I’ll finish my walk into town by myself.”
And then she turns, leaving me on the curb to wonder what truth she doesn’t want to tell me.