Chapter Twenty-Two
Sadie
“Of course I’m fine,” I laughed shooing my family out of my house.
I stood in the doorway and waved as they got in their cars, ready to make the trek to their own houses or apartments.
My brother Tim had the furthest to go. He lived a whopping twelve miles away.
My parents had the shortest distance since we were basically next door neighbors, and my two sisters lived somewhere in between.
I closed the door as I saw the last set of headlights exit the driveway.
“Oh my God, I am so not fine.” I leaned my back against the door and slid down until I was sitting on the floor. I’d hosted family game night on purpose to try and get my mind off Melinda and Drake’s engagement party. It was tomorrow night.
He was going to be there.
God, I hated myself for still having such a mixed bag of feelings about him. And I wished I could just let it all go and that none of it would matter to me anymore.
But it did.
I sighed and got off the floor. I spent some time cleaning up from game night before taking a shower, getting ready for bed, and tucking myself under the covers. I’d taken some melatonin in case I had any trouble going to sleep.
Two hours later, I was staring at my ceiling fan as it whirled in perpetual circles.
I turned on my lamp, picked up my Kindle, and tried to lose myself in the new thriller I’d downloaded.
When my mind wandered even when the detective was being chased by a serial killer, I knew it was not going to be the distraction I needed.
I turned off the light, forced myself to close my eyes, and took deep, calming breaths.
It wasn’t long and my eyes were open again.
It was impossible to sleep. I kept tossing and turning with thoughts of him, what we’d had, the future we’d planned, the multiple ways he’d wrecked me, and more running through my mind.
Unable to stand it any longer, I threw back my sheets and walked around the small house I’d bought last year on my teacher’s salary.
It had taken a while to save up for a decent down payment, but I’d finally done it. And I loved it.
I looked around at the hardwood floors I’d sanded, stained, and returned to their former glory, the walls I’d painted carefully in cool, soothing colors, the furniture I’d lovingly restored from rehab stores…
YouTube tutorial videos were awesome. But even all of that wasn’t enough to make me happy or drown out my thoughts tonight.
I was going to make a cup of hot tea, curl up on the couch with a soft blanket, and read some more. Somehow, I knew that wasn’t going to work. I stuffed my feet into some shoes by the door, grabbed my keys, and fled.
It was as if my heart was in control, my body falling back on muscle memory.
Before I knew it, I was parking in the lot below the path to lookout point.
I’d always thought of it as my spot with Harrison.
This would make the second time I’d been here since we broke up.
After navigating the path by the light of the moon, I walked right up to the railing.
I stood there for a bit, enjoying the late spring chill in the air.
I leaned over and looked out over the town. From the lookout, you could see the whole town spread out below. From this vantage point, I’d always thought the lights and buildings looked like one of those Christmas villages people collect.
Harrison and I had come here dozens of times.
We’d laid out a quilt and made love under the stars.
We’d held each other and talked for hours under the branches of the huge old water oak that seemed like the caretaker of lookout point.
I’d leaned against its trunk while Harrison kissed me and talked, kissed me and planned, kissed me and told me I was his forever. And I’d said it back.
I ran my hand over the rough bark of the big tree now.
It hadn’t changed a bit, even though I had.
I plopped down on the damp ground and leaned my back against it.
I didn’t have the heart to check for the initials Harrison had carved into the tree not long before we’d left for college. That would hurt too much.
I sat there, not caring that I could feel dew soaking through my thin pajama shorts.
I barely noticed. My thoughts had flipped back to the last time I’d come here with Harrison, when things were still beautiful, still golden.
Before I was broken and had to put myself back together carefully, piece by piece.
I couldn’t believe I’d be seeing him in less than twenty-four hours. Even though it had been five years since I’d last seen him, it felt entirely too soon.