Chapter Twenty-One #3
“Well, of course it’s not the same.” My voice was as soothing as I could make it.
I felt terrible for him. For me, staying in Willow Creek was the best of both worlds: A full-time, secure living, among friends and family who made me feel whole.
A summertime filled with renaissance faire shenanigans, jousts, and huzzahs, and a whole month of being the Queen.
I reminded myself that it wasn’t too long ago that I was in Alex’s shoes—facing a wide-open future that was as uncertain as it was terrifying.
Out of nowhere, Mitch’s voice floated through my mind, between bites of meatloaf and baked potato. Any interest in running a drama department? The question had been for me, but what if it could be for Alex?
I sat up a little straighter as all my nerve endings came alive, just like they had earlier today, when I’d made my own decision.
Drama was performing, wasn’t it? I’d seen him work with high school kids and adults alike doing the chess match fight, and he knew Shakespeare like the back of his hand.
No, it wasn’t the same as living on the road and performing full time, but it also wasn’t sitting behind a desk selling insurance.
Could it really be that easy? He could do the Faire in the summertime. And I could have him.
This could work.
My heart hammered in my chest, and my mouth had suddenly gone dry. I swallowed hard and cleared my throat.
“What if you didn’t have to give it up?” My voice trembled, because I couldn’t believe I’d hit on the solution to all of our problems. “What if…”
“Of course I have to give it up!” He was too caught up in his own head to hear my tentative excitement.
“It’s all I’ve known for my whole adult life.
It was what I was good at. Working with Simon on that fight…
he respected me. Respected my talent. Dex too, when we were working on that song.
Being around people like that—people who are so good at what they do, and who see that same talent in me…
I always felt like I belonged here. Doing this life.
It’s what I’m good at. It’s all I’m good at. ”
He drew a shuddering breath. “God. I thought finally seeing this festival would make me feel better, like checking something off a bucket list. But it just showed me a life I’ll never have again.”
I shook my head. He wasn’t listening to me, and I didn’t know how to break through. “Maybe not, though. I was talking to Mitch earlier this week, and he told me…”
But he wasn’t letting me talk. “Mitch doesn’t get it, I guarantee you.
It’s a part-time thing for him.” He gave an exasperated sigh as he took the exit, starting the journey on the back roads toward Willow Creek.
“I don’t expect you to get it, either,” he said dully. “You like being an office drone.”
The words landed between us with a thud, hovering there in the air. All of my tentative excitement evaporated, and I sucked in a breath. “Office drone?” I repeated, but he was well into his rant; I may as well have not even been in the passenger seat.
“The whole nine-to-five—that’s a perfect life for you. It’s what you want. But it’s not the life I want. Being forced to give up what I love, it’s…”
“Shitty,” I said flatly. “I get it.” Boy, did I ever. Maybe it was for the best that I hadn’t been able to pitch my solution, only to have him shoot it down. Because I was wrong. He would never want a foot in each world. It was all or nothing for Alexander Wright.
He’d done this before—made me feel like the center of his world, only to find out that I wasn’t even the smallest part of it.
His mind wasn’t on me. His mind was on his act.
His life on the road. The things he had to give up.
The things he would miss the most. And none of those were me.
I was just an office drone, trying to drag him into my mundane life.
His voice was still ringing in my ears. Being forced to give up what I love…Performing. His life on the road. That was what he loved. That was what he couldn’t live without.
Not me.
I suddenly felt eighteen again, getting a breakup text before chem lab. Na?ve and small.
What was I thinking? We were always temporary. Never meant to last. And I was delusional to think otherwise.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said, although I didn’t know what I was apologizing for. That he had to give up the life he loved. That I didn’t have a solution for him. That I wasn’t enough for him.
The silence between us stretched, an awkward, ugly thing, until he pulled into my driveway and killed the engine. I clicked off my seat belt but didn’t move. I stared hard at the glove compartment, not knowing what would happen if I looked right at him.
“We’ve stalled long enough,” I finally said. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
Alex drew in a sharp breath, and out of the corner of my eye I saw his posture soften. “Cait…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said…”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” I got it now. The more we stalled, the longer we delayed the inevitable, the harder it was going to be.
The snippier we were going to get, turning on each other in frustration because we weren’t going to get our happy ending.
“You were always going to leave.” I chanced a look at him now and his eyes met mine, wide and sad.
“You’re right,” I said. “The timing’s never going to be right for us.
Nothing’s going to change that. I hope you…
” I choked then, unable to continue. But what else was there to say?
I pushed open the door and slid to the ground. The van door closing between us felt final. The severing of something important. I was halfway to the porch when the van started up, the headlights shining on my back as he pulled out of the driveway and out of my life.
It was my own fault, I reminded myself as I swiped at the tears on my cheeks and fumbled for my keys.
All these years, I’d lived by a code for a reason.
Do unto others before they can do unto you.
Can’t get dumped if you dump them first. Alex had promised to be careful with my heart, and he had been.
I couldn’t put all the blame on him this time—I was the one who’d been careless.
My stupid ass had all but handed Alex my heart and the two of us had broken it together, leaving me with nothing but shards.
I gathered those fragile shards and held them close. Alex was my past. He’d been my past a month ago, and he was my past now.
I had a future to plan.