Chapter 7
SEVEN
Grey felt it the moment he walked in the door and set his gear down in the entryway of his house. An odd stillness in the air, as if the house itself was holding its breath.
He paused there on the patterned rug, his senses attuning to the space around him. The house was quiet. Too quiet. He could even hear the faint hum of the furnace down in the crawlspace as it forced hot air through the vents in the floor.
He slipped his boots off and made his way into the kitchen. The countertops were bare. No dishes there or in the sink. In the connecting laundry room there were no clothes or towels waiting to be folded on top of the dryer. The basket sat empty beside the washer.
With a growing sense of foreboding, he turned around and headed for the stairs near the entry, aware of the knot coiling in his gut.
His fire crew had been out on back-to-back calls last night due to a small slide blocking a feeder route into Whalebone Cove, so he hadn’t had time to check his phone.
It also meant he hadn’t slept in more than twenty-six hours. He was no novice when it came to dealing with sleep deprivation, but his twenties were behind him, and he was beat. All he wanted was a hot shower, a sandwich, and six to eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.
“Beth?” he called on his way up the carpeted stairs. Her car was parked in its usual spot out front of the double garage.
Their bedroom door was open. He stepped inside and stopped dead.
Beth sat on the edge of their perfectly made king-size bed, blond hair curled around her shoulders. Her expression was somber, hands folded in her lap.
But the most telling thing were the two large suitcases zipped and standing inside the doorway. On the other side of the room, he saw the boxes stacked in the walk-in closet.
They both knew what it meant.
“You’re leaving?” was all he could get out, feeling like the air had been sucked out of him. The logical part of his brain said it really shouldn’t have been that much of a shock. Yet somehow it still was.
She twisted her hands together in her lap. “You know this isn’t easy for me, but we both know this isn’t working. For either of us. If we’re honest, I don’t think either of us have been happy for a long time, and you making the best of things is making it worse.”
How was he making it worse by trying?
They hadn’t fought lately. Had rarely argued throughout their three-year relationship. But he’d made his share of mistakes. They’d drifted apart.
So slowly he hadn’t noticed it at first. Inch by inch, until one day they were just two people sharing a living space and the brittle silences between them had become as hard as a brick wall.
The tension in his gut refused to let up. Some part of him refusing to accept that this was happening. That there was no way to fix this.
“Look,” she went on. “If I don’t do this now, we could lose another ten years or more being polite and trying to force this to work when we both know deep down it’s never going to.”
Maybe she wasn’t wrong. But still that stubbornness flared inside him, along with a flicker of panic he immediately shoved down. “I know I’ve been busy a lot lately with work and SAR stuff—”
“It’s not just that,” she said in exasperation. “Come on, Grey, you know it’s not.”
No. It wasn’t. It was a lot of things.
“And this isn’t just about me. It’s about what you need too.
What you deserve.” She watched him a moment, and he was suddenly struck by just how little he knew her anymore.
That somehow over the past year or so they’d gone from being lovers to near strangers.
“Come on, Grey, don’t look at me like that. You’re not happy. Neither of us is.”
He clenched his jaw. It wasn’t in his nature to give up. But he’d prioritized his paid and volunteer work over her and their relationship.
This was the kick in the ass he needed to make things right. He still loved and respected her. “I’ll try harder. Just tell me what you need from me.” She’d become so distant over the past few months, pulling away even when he tried to connect with her. He didn’t know how to reach her anymore.
She shook her head, expression wistful. “We’re just too different. We don’t have anything in common anymore, and I’m tired of feeling like this. Pretending everything’s fine while the months keep slipping by.” Her brown eyes held his. “Aren’t you?”
Yes. But he was also scared to let go. Some deeply buried part of him he didn’t want to acknowledge was terrified of being alone once she walked out that door. Of being abandoned. “Is there someone else?”
Surprise and hurt flared in her eyes and he instantly felt like shit for asking. “No, of course not.” But there was also accusation.
She’d told him a few times that she felt like he wasn’t in love with her. That there must be someone else he loved and had never gotten over.
She was right. But he would never have hurt her by admitting it. And that person had never loved him back anyway.
He dragged a hand over his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.”
Beth sighed. “We’re both good people. Which is why we need to end things now, before things go on too long and eventually turn ugly.”
He folded his arms and leaned against the doorjamb, struggling to find the right thing to say. Not knowing what the hell to do. Or how to just give up.
“Hey,” she said in a softer tone. “I know you care about me. Even love me in your loyal way, but we both deserve more than that. And that’s why you need to let me go now. I’d rather leave as friends than enemies.” Her gaze held the same sadness and regret that compressed his ribcage.
“Where will you go?” he asked after a pause, unsure what else to say in the suffocating silence between them. The weight in his gut grew heavier as she stared at him. Not just anxiety or dread or even guilt. It was also the weight of certainty. That deep down he’d known this had to happen.
“To my sister’s in San Fran. I fly out of Seattle in the morning. A moving company’s coming to pick up my boxes tomorrow.”
She’d been planning this for a while then.
She watched him for a long moment, unmoving. “I’ll be okay. Will you?”
He made himself nod. Because dammit, she was right. About all of it.
He would never have been the one to end it, not unless she’d cheated. He would have kept going like this, even unfulfilled and feeling disconnected from her. He would have kept trying. Because he didn’t quit when things got hard. He didn’t give up on people he cared about.
So in some sense, she was displaying more guts than he was.
Breaking up was the right move for both of them.
But it still seemed like such a goddamned senseless waste to just throw it all away after being together for so long.
And the sudden thought of coming home to an empty house night after night was so damned lonely.
His ribcage constricted, making it harder to breathe. His brain couldn’t seem to process that this was really happening here and now.
When he didn’t say anything else, Beth drew in a breath and stood. He didn’t move as she walked over and stopped in front of him, her hazel eyes searching his.
I’m sorry. So damned sorry, Beth. He’d never meant to hurt her. But he couldn’t get any of that out.
She forced a brave smile and slid her arms around his back to hug him. “Bye, Grey.”
He returned it, then forced himself to let go and step back, resisting the urge to blurt out an apology and ask her to stay. To work things out.
The truth was, there was no working this out. And she’d been the only one willing to face that head on.
He stood there in silence while she moved to her suitcases. Was he supposed to carry her fucking luggage down to the car so she could leave him faster? “I’ll get them.”
“No, it’s okay. I got it.” She wheeled them past him and out into the hallway. Started down the stairs.
The front door shut behind her a minute later. Her car started up soon after.
He sat down on the edge of their bed where the comforter still bore the indent of her weight from only a minute or two ago, feeling almost hollow. Dragging in a ragged breath, he scrubbed a hand through his hair when he heard her car reverse out of the driveway and disappear down the street.
The scent of her perfume hung in the air around him. A ghostly reminder of her.
Gradually, the eerie stillness of the house surrounded him. Pressing inward with that terrible, oppressive emptiness that reminded him he was now all on his own.
Beth was gone. She wasn’t coming back.
And he needed to get the hell out of here for a while.
“Fuck,” he whispered, and dug his phone out of his pocket to text his brother.