Chapter 22
chapter twenty-two
Reid
“What time are we heading out in the morning?”
Busy yawns. “Around four. We have to pack up and walk the mile to the lookout, and the sun rises at five, so…”
I nod and glance at my watch, knowing we need to crawl into our tent soon but not wanting to go. What I want to do is stay here, chatting with Busy. We’re the last ones up, everyone else clearly familiar with the drill and getting to bed early so they aren’t completely delirious in the morning.
Not us, though. We’ve been sitting out here talking quietly, adding wood to the fire for the better part of two hours.
“I can’t believe Briar’s pregnant,” Busy says, though it’s probably the third or fourth time she’s said it tonight. “Junie’s going to be the best big cousin, I think.”
I hum in acknowledgment, my eyes beginning to grow heavy as I stare at the flames. I’m incredibly exhausted, and the hike took a lot out of me. More than I normally try to give of myself.
It felt important today, though, to use my body while I still can. The specialist I see has made it clear that, for the most part, I need to be gentle on exercise and exertion, because overdoing it can cause a lot of fatigue on muscles that are already beginning to struggle. But I figure one intense day can’t hurt.
“Can I ask you something?”
When I look at Busy, I find her watching me with a curious expression. Part of me wants to say no, because I have a feeling it’s about my health, but I shove that default reaction to the side and nod.
“Sure.”
Busy licks her lips and tilts her head to the side. “Earlier today, while we were hiking, you said you haven’t ever had someone to talk to about your health stuff. Did you…not ever talk about it with Sarah?”
I lick my lips, considering her question. Did I ever talk about it with Sarah?
“Not really. I mean, I shared the original diagnosis, but that was pretty much it before we talked about getting a divorce.”
Her shoulders fall and she shakes her head. “I’m so sorry.”
“I told you, Busy. I gave her the out.” Shrugging, I bend forward, pick up a twig off the ground, and chuck it into the fire, watching it singe and disappear immediately.
“I get that, I just…I’m sorry you got this crazy, life-altering information and didn’t really have anyone to talk to about it.” She reaches out and places her hand on mine. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but I hope you know you can share anything you do.”
I swallow thickly, blinking hard as I stare at the fire.
“Well, thanks,” I murmur, not sure what else there is to say.
If I have to be completely honest, I feel sick to my stomach. The things Busy says are so simple and yet so surprising at the same time, like she’s revealing things I didn’t know I wanted with every passing remark.
How was I to know someone you love would be willing to hear all the shitty things going on with you? How was I to know having someone in my corner would feel this way? That I don’t have to keep the worst to myself, bottled up inside of me?
My mom and dad were great people, and so are my aunt and uncle and my cousin and her family. But your partner is supposed to be just that: your partner, the person by your side through anything. Somewhere along the line, as I was making allowances for Sarah and trying not to be upset at her for taking the out I offered, I forgot that’s what marriage is really supposed to be.
It’s late when we crawl into the tent, each of us collapsing on opposite sides with Junie and Sydney snuggled in the middle. But I stay up long into the night, staring at the sky through the open netting at the top, thinking about the woman who has blown my carefully crafted life apart in just a few months.
Or, maybe that’s wrong. Sarah blew up my life. Busy is helping me piece it back together.
I rest my head in my hand, propped up on my elbow, watching her as she sleeps, her soft breaths filling the tent. I didn’t know it was possible to love someone like this, like it’s the only thing that matters.
I know it’s unfair of me to continue to compare how I feel about Busy with how I felt about Sarah, especially when I realize now that Sarah barely even registers on the meter. But at the same time, how can I not? How can I not use the way my marriage crumbled like a sandcastle under a wave as a reference point? Especially when I’m quickly realizing the kind of stronghold Busy has claimed on my heart could weather any storm.
Busy and I still have some things to sort through, still have plenty of uphill battles ahead. But god, how much easier it is to scale those walls when you have a helping hand, when the person at your side wants the best for you as much as you want the best for them.
I reach out my arm above Junie’s head and take Busy’s hand in mine. She startles briefly, her eyes opening and searching the tent. Then our gazes connect, and she settles, entwining her fingers with mine.
This is what I want.
What I need.
For the rest of my life—whatever that life might look like, however good or bad, easy or difficult, short or long it is—I want to be the one to hold her hand, like she said that night in my cabin.
“In the end, I’m just looking for someone who can hold my hand when things are hard. Can you do that?”
As we lie there, Busy and Junie and Sydney dozing next to me, I know I’ve never felt as happy or as content as I feel in this moment.
So, yes, Busy, I can do that. As long as you’re there to take my hand, I will hold it tight in mine.
The sunrise is breathtaking.
I’ve lived in Cedar Point my entire life, and never have I seen a sunrise as glorious as the one I witness with the Mitchell family the following morning.
Though, to be honest, part of me wonders if that has to do with my own realizations in the tent last night, if my feelings for Busy have cleared away some of the cobwebs so I can see things in a new light. I think whatever went through my mind is reflecting on the outside, because the way Busy looks at me, her eyes soft and her smile sweet, makes me think she knows where I’m at.
By the time we make it back to the house, I can barely go a few minutes without taking her hand in mine, the act suddenly feeling so natural.
“Come on, Junie Bee,” Busy says, carrying her daughter into their cabin. “Let’s get you a bath and then a nap. How does that sound?”
“No nap.”
Busy giggles, and I love the sound of it as I follow behind them, carrying some of her gear.
“No nap, huh? Alright, well we’ll see about that.”
We’re hit by the heat as soon as we walk in the door, and Busy groans.
“I should have left all the windows open.” She leads me into the living room, where she sets Junie down then turns to take the bags from my hands. “Thanks for this. If you want to leave some of our crap in the back of your truck, I can come out and unload it in a little bit. I don’t want you to have to do it all.”
I shake my head. “Nah. You take care of your monster, and I’ll leave the rest of your things on your porch.”
She takes a deep breath and lets out a long sigh, her entire body tired but her smile still genuine. “Thanks. And thanks for coming, too. I’m really glad you were there.”
“Me, too.”
We watch each other for a beat before an idea comes to me. “Hey, why don’t you and Junie come over tonight,” I say. “We can set up a movie for her, I’ll cook dinner. And when Junie needs to go down, we can set her up on my bed and then you and I can talk.” I take her hand in mine, twisting our fingers together. “About everything.”
Busy’s eyes brighten and she nods. “That sounds really good.”
I step forward and pull her in, my arm around her shoulders, then I close my eyes as I just hold her there for a minute. I breathe her in, that familiar hint of jasmine mixed with the dust and sweat from our long hike out of the mountains.
I don’t mind.
I want every part of her.
“Text me later,” I say, pressing a kiss against her forehead then taking a step back, keeping hold of her fingers until the last second.
She nods. “Sounds good.”
I turn reluctantly, wishing she were coming over right now, and head outside to finish up unloading. There isn’t a ton left, but what’s Busy’s I leave on her porch and what’s mine I set outside my own front door. I’ll need to do a thorough clean of the tent and some of my other gear before I store it away, but for now, I just want to take a shower and rinse off all this dirt.
After I’ve scrubbed up, I check my phone, which died at some point overnight, surprised to see several text messages from Sarah.
Sarah: It was nice bumping into you yesterday
Sarah: Give me a call when you’re home
Sarah: It’s important
My brow furrows, a tiny thread of worry rolling through me.
Me: Hey, I’m home. Everything alright?
I finish changing, throwing on a pair of basketball shorts and a loose tee, then return to my phone when I hear it ring.
“Hey,” I say, answering when I see Sarah’s name. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” she replies. “You at home? I was thinking about swinging by. Or we could meet on Main. Maybe grab lunch.”
Sighing, I take a seat on my couch, rubbing at the stubble on my jaw. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why? Are you busy with Busy?” she says, a joking intonation to her voice. Then she laughs.
“Not right now, no, but I have plans tonight and I don’t really have the time right now.”
What I want to tell her is it’s not a good idea for us to spend time together anymore, but that feels harsh to do over the phone. Sarah and I might not be married, but I still care about her, and the last thing I want to do is cause her any pain.
“You’re serious.” She sounds shocked. “Are you guys like…dating or something?”
I waffle with how much to tell her. Things between Busy and I feel…tentative. Like there’s a foundation of something strong and sturdy being laid, but it’s still setting. I don’t want to get into that with Sarah, because…well, because it’s none of her business.
“You are ,” she replies when I take too long to respond. “What are you doing, Reid? I thought you told me you weren’t ever going to be in another relationship.”
“I did. But things change.”
It’s all I can think to say, because I don’t want to talk about this with Sarah. I want to talk about it with Busy. I want to tell her the reasons why I’m going to let go of my decision to be alone. I want to talk to her about the way my heart has changed since we met, why I’m going to stare my own fears in the face.
“What things have changed?”
It barely takes me a second to respond. “Everything.”
Sarah is quiet, and I wonder if maybe we do need to talk today, hash out a few final things before we both well and truly move on from each other.
“Look, Sarah…” I start, licking my lips and trying to figure out exactly what to say, how to say it in a way that doesn’t hurt her.
Though I’m not sure that’s possible.
“Can I just…come by?” she asks. “Please?”
Her voice sounds shaky, something I’ve rarely heard from Sarah in all the years I’ve known her. So I relent.
“Yeah.” I nod my head, though she can’t see me. “We can talk when you get here.”
“I’m leaving Main now. See you soon.”
Fifteen minutes later, I open the door and let her inside. I’m ready to get this over with, put the chapter of Reid and Sarah firmly in the past. Talking to her and getting lunch occasionally always felt like it wasn’t a big deal, but now it does. Now it feels like a desperate attempt to cling to the past.
Sarah stalks into my living room then leans on the back of the couch, looking at me with frustration, her arms crossed. “What’s going on, Reid? Something feels really different between us, and I don’t like it.”
“Something is different, Sarah.”
“Busy Mitchell, you mean.”
I rest my hands on my hips. “Yeah, she’s part of it, but it’s not just about her. It’s about…a lot of different things.”
“Like?”
I sigh, knowing I need to just rip the Band-Aid off and get to the point. I don’t want to hurt her, but there’s no use beating around the bush.
“I think there was a time when seeing each other felt good. Like we were still going to be friends in spite of the fact that our marriage was over, and wasn’t that mature of us. Still loving each other, but in a different way.” I pause, knowing this is the hard part. “But it doesn’t feel that way anymore. At least not for me.”
Sarah shakes her head and stands, walking over to the bookshelf against the wall where all my family photos are. She stares at them for a long time before plucking one down—the one Busy gave me from our hike together.
I put that photo on the shelf the minute I got home that night, knowing it deserved a place of honor. I knew, despite my best efforts, Busy and Junie had carved a space for themselves in my heart that only they could ever fill.
“Do you ever regret it?” Sarah asks me, her voice quiet. “The divorce?”
I blink, surprised. “What?”
She slowly sets the photo back in its place then turns around. That’s when I see that her eyes have grown glassy.
“Because I do.” Her eyes close, and her tears fall down her face. She shakes her head. “I regret it all the time."
I lean back against the kitchen island before I drop down onto one of the stools, feeling shock roll through me in a wave.
“Reid, I think I made a mistake,” she says, taking a step toward me. “I think I was so…devastated by your diagnosis I didn’t know what to do. It just made sense to do what was easiest.”
I watch her as she crosses toward me, her hands twisting together in front of her, her face a wash of distress.
“Then you told me you were just going to be single, said it was easiest that way, and I figured we were the same, figured we both just wanted to avoid the pain the future would cause each other.”
Sarah comes to a stop just in front of me.
“But I miss you. I miss what we used to be,” she whispers, reaching out and taking my hand in hers. “Do you think we could get back to what we were before? Think you could forgive me?”
A million things run through my mind in that moment, appearing and then vanishing in a blink, but the one thing that stays at the forefront is Busy. The woman I love.
“I do forgive you, Sarah,” I say, my voice soft, my heart sad. “But our time has run its course. There is no us anymore to return to. I’ve found…”
My voice trails off as I try to communicate what Busy and I have. When Sarah first got here, I wanted to shield all my feelings from her, not share them at all. But now, knowing she’s entertaining the idea of getting back together, it feels important that I be as clear and transparent as possible.
“I’ve found the other half of my soul,” I continue, hating the way she flinches at my words. “You and I shared something special, and I will always care about you. Always. But when things got hard, we gave up. Both of us, not just you.”
I squeeze her hand, which is still in mine.
“So, no. I don’t think we could get back to what we were before. Because my heart has found a new home.”
Sarah watches me for a long minute before she pulls her hand back and clears her throat, her eyes flicking around the room like she’s desperate to get out of here as quickly as possible.
“Besides,” I add on, wanting to lessen the blow, even just a little, “I think we both knew you always wanted to marry someone who makes a lot more money than I do.”
Her head jerks back, but when she sees the smile on my face, her shoulders fall, her lips tilting up at the sides.
“I would make an excellent trophy wife,” she replies, laughing quietly as she wipes away the last of her tears.
“Alton seems like a good man,” I offer, trying to be kind. “You both seem happy.”
She shakes her head, a tight smile on her face. “We’re not long term. I know that. But…I’m sure there’s someone else out there for me. Somewhere.” She glances around and moves to grab her purse from where she set it on the couch. “So I guess…this is goodbye, then?” she asks, pulling her shoulders back.
I nod. “I think so.”
I know so, but there’s no reason to say that out loud. I can see that Sarah understands where I’m at. Where my heart is at.
The heat is stifling as we step out onto the porch, and I’m reminded of the fact that Busy is currently roasting in her cabin in temps even warmer than this. I’ll need to crank the a/c when she comes over later.
“Hey, Reid,” Sarah says, turning around to look at me. “I love you a lot, you know? I always have.”
I nod. “I know. I never doubted that.”
It’s not a complete truth. I’ve never doubted that Sarah loved me, but from the minute she said she was leaving, I knew the love she had to give me wasn’t enough, knew it wasn’t true love, the kind you can’t live without, because otherwise she never would have left.
“I guess I just want to make sure you don’t hate me.”
Shaking my head, I pull her in for one last hug. “I could never hate you, Sarah. Ever.”
When I pull back, she gives me a watery smile then leans in and presses her lips to my cheek.
“You’ve always been one of the best men I know,” she whispers. “I hope you and Busy are very happy together.”
I smile, knowing we will be, feeling sure about it with every bone in my body.
Sarah turns to walk down the steps, which is when my stomach falls through the floor. Busy stands a few yards away from my porch, watching us with wide eyes.
“I just… You gave me one of your bags,” she says, raising the backpack in her hand slowly so I can see it.
My heart begins beating rapidly as my mind scrambles over what she must think, seeing me on the porch, hugging Sarah, and fuck , Sarah kissing me.
“Busy, we were just—”
“You’re fine, you’re fine,” she says as she steps forward and sets the bag on the steps, a tight smile on her face.
A fake smile.
“I’ll just leave this and get back to Junie.” She glances at Sarah then at me again. “See you later.”
Then she spins around and hurries back to her own cabin, leaving me and Sarah behind.