Heath looks at the horizon and frowns. “The sunset, the ocean… what is it?”
“Everything. I want this moment to be part of my future.” I’m almost nostalgic. My parents used to own a house in Plage de Passable. When we stayed there, we would do this every evening. Walk after supper and just enjoy each other’s company.
This is the first time I have thought about that house or the things we did as a family. I should ask Aunt Cécile about it.
“What do you mean?”
“Once I meet Mr. Right, I’ll buy a house by the beach so when we have children, we can walk in the evening by the sea, watching the sunset.”
“That’s too specific.”
“It’s a wish, a dream, something to manifest for my future. Tinder and all those apps might be failing me, but it’ll happen.”
“Lately, you sound as if your clock is ticking. You’re just twenty-nine.”
“You’re thirty-one, and you still behave like a bachelor.”
“I am a bachelor, and I plan to stay like that forever.”
“That’s impossible. What if you fall in love? Will you let her go because you don’t want to get married?”
“Yes. Because I love her, I’ll let her find happiness with someone who’ll give her what she needs.”
We’re talking about a hypothetical scenario, but why is it that he sounds so sad, as if he already did it? He already let the woman of his dreams go, breaking her heart and his along the way.
But if it happened… how is it that I don’t know?
Who was she, and how did I miss it? I can’t even think of any woman he could’ve dated long enough to be in love with her.
In fact, he never dates. I give him a suspicious look.
“Let it go, okay?” he mumbles.
That’s all I need to confirm it did happen. He was in love and the very stupid man let her go.
“Okay,” I answer, but I don’t like the fact he has a secret. I should be upset at him but I can’t when I’m hiding something from him too.
Chapter Twelve
Heath
It’s been two weeks since Atzi and I had some sort of fallout.
We didn’t get into a fight, but we haven’t spoken much since we visited Fern and Elliot in Santa Cruz. I can pinpoint the moment it happened, just not the why. It was during our walk by the beach with my niece and my nephew.
Was it something I said, did, or… I just don’t know. Is it her? Is it me?
Are we beginning to part ways, knowing this is the end of the road and our friendship is over? Not that I want that for us. She is after all, my person. Also, the woman I love. A therapist would have a field day listening to the reasons why I can’t be with my best friend. But they’re founded fears.
Discovering my father dead on a burnt to a crisp vineyard did a lot of things to me. My mother going into catatonia because she lost the love of her life was life-changing for all of us. And some days I believe it was my fault. I disobeyed her when she asked me to go and get Dad from the field.
Once she fell sick, I couldn’t help her. She wouldn’t speak. She barely moved or ate. At night, I would go ask for her forgiveness. I would plead for her to come back to us, to love me again. Some days I believed she blamed me, others I felt like she was punishing us for my disobedience.
Because if I had checked on Dad earlier as she had asked, I could’ve found him alive.
No matter what I did afterward, how much I cried and how much I begged, she didn’t react.
Love destroys. I don’t want anyone to end up like my mother or like us when we were children. Not because of me. That’s why when Atzi asked, “Will you let her go because you don’t want to get married?”
Without hesitation, I responded, “Yes. Because I love her.”
We were speaking of a hypothetical, imaginary woman. But that’s not the truth. I was referring to Atzi. Maybe I should’ve said, “Yes, I’m letting you go because I love you.”
And so, our connection broke and it might be for the best not to fix it.
When she texted me last week to cancel our Thursday date because of work, I responded with okay. Usually, I would cook for us and bring the food to the shop or just order takeout for us. Not this time. Instead, I went to Paradise Bay to help the twins with the bar.
I wasn’t sure what to expect today until Atzi texted me an invite to a gallery opening with the question, “Do you want to go?”
Of course I did.
I do.
We might not be the same, but I still miss her.
I still love her.
I still need to see her at least one more time.
I doubt I’ll ever stop loving or needing her. And this is exactly why today will be the last time we spend time together.
I have to quit her cold turkey.
In two weeks, I’m leaving for New York. I haven’t told anyone yet, but my acceptance letter arrived yesterday morning. When I applied, Benedict offered me his guest room. I’ll take it while I find an apartment. God knows what’s going to happen with him if he finds out the kid is his.
He can’t handle a child, but if he’s a father, I might be the one helping him with the creature.
Maybe I should have a vasectomy, so this doesn’t happen to me. Atzi and my family will judge me, but I don’t care. It’s my decision.
Okay, now I’m thinking about too many stupid things. Way too many. Maybe it’s the silence in the car. Usually, Atzi would be talking about her latest project, the shop, or looking for just the right song on the radio. Not tonight. Tonight, the drive is uncomfortable, even painful.
When I glance at Atzi, she looks gorgeous in the shimmery halter top that shows the tattoos along her arms. I try not to look at the miniskirt that’s barely covering her long, tanned legs. How I wish this were a real date and not… what is this?
Today is completely different from our usual Thursday nights. She’s dressed like she’s ready for a cocktail party. I’m wearing a suit—as she requested. This is one of her most important clients. Atzi might offer to bring some of her non-chocolate pieces to exhibit in the gallery.
If she allowed me, I would reach out to my cousin, Sterling Ahern. He’s almost as famous as her mother was and has many galleries where he could exhibit her work. Atzi doesn’t want me to do it. She wants to succeed on her own. There’s nothing wrong with introducing her art to someone who can help her. I wouldn’t be doing more than just sending pictures to my cousin. However, I respect her wishes.
This is when I know leaving her will be hard. Just as much as trying to stop caring about her. Ever since she began to follow me around at camp, I wanted to save her. I wasn’t sure from what or who, but I wanted to slay dragons for the little girl who looked alone and broken.
Or maybe I was mirroring myself. I was just as lonely and shattered as she was. It’s her friendship that brought me back and glued my heart back together. Will I be able to survive without her when I leave?
I have to, which is why tonight, instead of eating at my place, I suggested a restaurant. It was a terrible idea though. This outing feels fake. A dreadful way to end what has been one of the best relationships I’ve had in my entire life.
When we arrive at The 9th Door at the Wharf, I dare to say, “You’re silent today, is everything okay?”