Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
“He rented a room in town, and despite his car being fixed, he stayed for nearly a month. It was a different time, another era. We had to hide a lot of ourselves—at that point, neither of our families knew—but everyone with eyes could see we were inseparable.” He cleared his throat.
“Then he was gone, called back to where he’d come from after his father took ill.
A few weeks after he left, I received that book in the mail.
The inscription is a quote from one of the poems inside: ‘Will you give me yourself? will you come travel with me? Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?’”
A passing cloud darkened the room. “He was asking you to come to him.”
He nodded. “His father was still ill, and he felt he couldn’t leave, to come back here.”
“Did you go?” I asked.
“No.”
I could feel his pain, his heartbreak. “Why?”
He closed his eyes. “He had another path he needed to walk.”
Leaning forward, I reached for his hand. His skin was warm, soft. “I don’t understand.”
He blinked and looked at me. “If we were meant to be, he wouldn’t have been able to leave town.
I had to let him go, to live the life he’d been destined for.
We exchanged letters for a while. It took a year, but his father ended up making a full recovery.
But by then, he’d moved on, I moved on. The letters dwindled.
Then stopped. I found love again, and I’m sure he did as well.
He’s a lovable guy. As hard as it is to accept sometimes, what is meant to be is meant to be, and what isn’t, isn’t.
” He pulled his hands back and clasped them on his chest. “Now, tell me more about your family. We got sidetracked.”
I didn’t really want to talk about my family—I wanted to know more about him and Walt and what he’d meant by saying that Walt wouldn’t have been able to leave town. But I decided not to push. He was tired.
So, I leaned back in the chair and described my parents, my brothers, my sister, my nieces. I told him how I’d come to realize that my need to be noticed, seen by them, was because I hadn’t felt loved by them.
And how I was realizing I’d been wrong about that.
People expressed love differently, was all.
I wasn’t sure at what point he’d fallen asleep, but I stayed by his side, watching his chest rise and fall.
At some point, I heard a gentle throat-clearing behind me. Callum stood in the doorway, and at the sight of him, my breath caught, and there was a pitter-patter in my chest.
Love stirring.
As quietly as I could, I made my way over to him, nudging him into the hallway. I closed the door behind us.
There was a moment when we stood there, barely six inches apart, simply looking at each other. It should’ve been awkward. Goofy. But it wasn’t.
He was freshly showered, his hair damp and curling around his neck. He smelled of cedar. He had on a white button-down and jeans.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” I said.
“I was hoping I could talk you into a late supper.”
I nodded. “I’d like that. Very much so.”
He smiled. “Hey, pizza or Chinese food?”
It took me a moment to catch on that he was playing This or That. “Pizza.” I tossed a question back. “Take out or sit down?”
“Tough one. I’ll say take out.”
“Me, too.”
I realized we’d probably just decided our plans for the night, which sounded absolutely perfect to me.
“How’s he doing?” Callum asked, nodding to Renny’s room.
I lifted my hand, wiggled it side to side. “He wiped the floor with me in checkers, but he’s tiring more easily these days.”
Compassion flared in his blue eyes. “I know he’s in the best place he can possibly be, but I hate this for him. I wish you could’ve known him before he got sick.”
I didn’t want to tell him how it felt like I’d always known Renny. Maeve and Tenn, too. Like they’d always been friends. Family. “I’m not sure I could handle that level of sassiness.”
“Please. He’d have you under his spell in no time flat.”
“Probably so.” I checked the time. My shift had ended five minutes ago. I motioned for him to follow me down the hallway, so our voices wouldn’t wake Renny. “He told me about Walt.”
“I’m not surprised. Walt is one of his favorite topics.”
We made our way toward the sunroom, my favorite space at the cottage.
The fading light filtering through the windows felt magical, and the overstuffed sofas and chairs were begging to be curled up on.
There were plants all about the room, large, small, and in between.
It was a space that felt peaceful, and I had the feeling it had been designed that way.
We sat side by side on the love seat, and I said, “I can’t help wishing that they had a different ending, but there was something he mentioned about Walt leaving that I didn’t understand. I didn’t want to push, because he was exhausted, but I’m wondering if you know the answer.”
“About?” he asked.
“He said that if Walt was meant to stay, then he wouldn’t have been able to leave.”
Callum nodded. “If a lost soul finds love in Forget-Me-Not, and if that love is meant to be, their car will keep breaking down until they realize they are right where they belong.” He smiled. “They won’t even make it to the county line.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Oh, but I am. It’s another one of the quirks of this town, and we accept it, the same way we accept the legend of the library cat.”
“But that doesn’t make sense. If Walt loved Renny, doesn’t that mean Walt shouldn’t have been able to leave town?”
Callum leaned forward again, clasped his hands. “Based on the town folklore, yes, that should be true. But there are exceptions. Walt was needed at home. Because of his great love for his father, his family, he was allowed to go.”
I frowned. “Renny must know that, right?”
Nodding, he said, “He does, but according to my gran, he was in so much pain after Walt left that the only way he could get through his grief was to tell himself over and over again that it wasn’t meant to be.
It became a part of the story. He ended up believing it, which is why he didn’t go to Walt after the book was sent.
He fully believed destiny had already made the choice. He still believes it.”
I could only shake my head. Renny had once told me his and Walt’s love story was bittersweet, and there wasn’t a better description. I hurt for him, for Walt, and for what could have been.
I shifted, uncomfortable. This was all so much to take in, but something was bothering me more than anything else.
I absolutely hated the idea that leaving—or staying—in Forget-Me-Not might not be up to me.
That it was up to destiny.
And what was meant to be.