Chapter 41
KOLTON
Sawyer assumes his usual position at my desk, his legs straddling a flipped chair, elbows hanging over the back. “Have you looked at my layout for the Snow Show?”
I scan my growing stack of papers, more coming in than going out, then I focus back on my computer. “Haven’t had time.”
He taps his hand against the chair, his pinky ring striking out a chime. “Nico’s coming by here soon. You in for a beer tonight?”
“Nope. I’m hitting the library with Jackson, then karate.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Rock climbing.”
“Next year, maybe? Or are you booked?”
I don’t answer, but the inter-fucking-com on my desk buzzes. “He’s pretty tied up,” Stella announces. “He has a Wallow in Self-Pity class next week, and he just signed up for a Burying Your Feelings webinar.”
Sawyer coughs out a laugh, but I keep my attention fixed on the neat rows and columns on my screen, everything ordered just so. Computers are easy, their formulas predictable. I feed information in, and answers are spit out. Always right. No room for misinterpretation.
Not like life the past month.
I roll my chair to the side and face Sawyer. “Is there something I can help you with? Something you want to say to me?”
He nods. “You’re an idiot.”
“I’d go with moron,” Stella says, her voice crackling through the intercom.
I slam my palm on the top button. “If you’re taking part in this bash-Kolton session, get over here.” I lift my hand and mutter, “Nico and his fucking gift.”
Stella sashays over, pulls a chair next to Sawyer, and sits, crossing her legs. “You’re a mess,” she says.
I smile at her bluntness. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
She nudges Sawyer’s shoulder. “You want to field this, or should I?”
“I say we tag-team him. You start, and I’ll come in for the finish.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Why do you two always talk about me like I’m not here?”
Stella swivels my way. “Are you comfortable, boss? This might take a while.”
Tipping back in my chair, I stare at the deflated red balloon stuck in the duct work. It’s been there since we hosted Jackson’s seventh birthday shortly after Aspen.
He was having a tough time at school and didn’t want to celebrate with friends.
We surprised him with cake, balloons, and a slew of books.
Nico and Sawyer dressed up as magicians, putting on a horrific show.
Their flying dove shat all over my desk.
Stella made Jackson’s favorite foods, my stepbrothers tore through the place as if it were a jungle gym, and Caroline brought too many presents, spoiling her only grandchild.
Predictably, my mother didn’t fly in, but that was nothing new.
What I wasn’t prepared for that day, what hit hard, was wishing Shay were with me.
It was a few weeks after Aspen, we’d only spent four days together, and still, I could feel her absence.
I wanted to share that day with her. Now we’ve had movie nights, library dates, walks on the beach, chemistry-fueled nights, the sauna… and each day gets harder.
But she made her choice.
“Nothing you say will change anything,” I tell them, knowing that won’t stop Stella.
She folds her hands over her black-and-white-striped skirt. “You gave up. You tucked tail and ran when things got serious between you two. There were other options. Instead, you bailed, and now we have to work with Grumpy Smurf.”
“I didn’t bail. I researched design firms, tried to show Shay how good life could be in Vancouver. I asked her to move with me, but she wasn’t willing to give us a chance.” I massage my temples, the ugly truth triggering renewed throbbing.
“Kolton,” Stella says softly, “when the wooing started, what did you say to me?”
Releasing my head, I slump in my chair. “I don’t know, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“I believe your words were, ‘Shay won’t say yes today or tomorrow. I’ll have to wear her down.’ That was said by a man willing to fight for his woman. A man who woos. The other guy, the one who walked away as soon as Shay said no, that guy sucks. He gave up. The question is why?”
I look to Sawyer for saving, but the dude shrugs. “Can’t argue with the truth. And I know the answer to that obvious question.”
I groan. Here we go again. “If you’re going to tell me, just get it over with already.”
“Will do.” He grins. “You walked away because you’re terrified of being in love.”
If I had walls, I’d kick these two out, but his comment mirrors Shay’s accusation at the grand opening. You’re scared to love me and lose me like you lost Marina.
“You both know I looked into moving,” I push back, finding it suddenly hard to draw in air.
“And you know how hard it would be on Caroline if she couldn’t see Jackson regularly.
Moving to Toronto was a dead end. Shay, on the other hand, is more mobile, but she chose her job over me. What was I supposed to do? Abduct her?”
“Here’s the thing…” Sawyer leans more heavily onto his elbows.
“You’re a smart guy, but you’re also lying to yourself.
Long distance isn’t impossible. Whatever happened with Marina happened ten years ago.
Ten years. And you ended up together after the fact.
I’d like to think you’ve matured a little in that time.
You’ve raised a son, built a business. I think you can handle some time apart from the woman you’re nuts over, if it means having her in your future.
But you split on her, didn’t even look for middle ground.
I mean, the stuff you did to get her on a date?
That shit was epic. But you gave up this time.
Even before Shay, you always gave Stella excuses to avoid dating.
Not because you didn’t have time, because you didn’t want to get attached.
You only put effort into things with Shay because she lived across the country and you assumed there was no chance of anything long term. ”
“And,” Stella cuts in, “you only asked her to move in with you and researched those jobs because you knew she was unlikely to upend her life for a man. You only tried with Shay because your inner demon figured there was no future where you’d get hurt again.”
“No.” I shake my head and grip my leather armrests harder, unsure why my throat feels tight. “You’re both totally off base. Long distance is an issue for me. I’m not getting in deeper just to have things implode. It’s not fair to Jackson. I need to protect Jackson.”
Sawyer heaves out a sigh. “Hate to say it, man, but that’s bullshit. The only person you’re protecting is you.”
I debate tearing out of here and working with earbuds in the future.
Drown out these two and their ridiculous theories, but I tug at a loose thread on the armrest, rolling it around, faster and faster.
I replay my last weeks with Shay: every time my pulse raced around her, the uncomfortable overheating, the anxiety that rose.
Those moments hit when things felt more real between us, more serious, but that panic was because I worried she’d choose her job over me, right? A rational reaction to the situation. I wasn’t panicking because she’d say yes and move to Vancouver…was I?
I certainly didn’t handle our argument at the grand opening well. When she got so upset she dropped into a crouch, too devastated to stay upright, I froze instead of fighting for us. Fucking froze.
“Look,” Sawyer says, “if you hadn’t spent the last month dragging your ass around like an extra from The Walking Dead, I’d chalk it up to a change of heart—you realizing you didn’t fall for Shay like you thought.
But this?” He motions loosely to my face.
“I’m tired of looking at your depressed mug.
You need to admit you’re scared to get hurt, then you need to fast forward to the part where you realize it’s better to love and to lose than not love a hot chick, or whatever that cheesy saying is, then you need to pull out your Prince Charming moves and get her back. ”
Stella holds up her hand like she’s voting. “I concur, sirs.”
I glance at the most recent photo on my desk. Caroline met Jackson and me at the library last week so I could head to karate. I didn’t notice she had a camera. Didn’t know she took our picture. When she texted it to me, I stared at my phone for five minutes.
To anyone else, it’s a sweet shot of me and my son going through his book of words: Jackson hunched over the table, me kissing the side of his head. But I know what page we were on. He had flipped back and landed on glomp: an attack hug made of love.
The entry was written in Shay’s neat writing.
Jackson bit his lip and whispered, “I miss her.”
I kissed his head but couldn’t speak.
I don’t know why I put the picture on my desk, an invisible photo of Shay.
She’s absent yet fills the space, the way her presence invades every aspect of my life.
And every time I’ve stared at the photo, I’ve thought about Shay’s reproach the night we broke up: You’re scared to love me and lose me like you lost Marina.
Since then, I’ve replayed Marina’s death and the aftermath: the doctor’s sympathetic words, the way my world crumbled, my fury and devastation, and my excruciating love for my son, all rolled up together.
How I felt like I was suffocating some days.
How hard it was to get out of bed and function.
Then my slow acceptance. Always missing Marina in our lives but finding happiness.
Building a good life with Jackson. So good I’ve been sure that meant I was healed.
But anytime Stella tried to set me up, I did brush her off. Felt clammy and flushed and made excuses about not having enough time. I didn’t pursue Shay until I believed it would only be for a summer. Didn’t ask her for more until she received her promotion.
Jesus.
Could all these people who really know me be right about why I refused to try long distance? Could I have been so scared that I blinded myself to the truth?