“Jamie…” It’s the first word he’s spoken since I started to speak, and nothing comes after it.
“I…” I’m losing hope. “I left because I realized that… that I’d never seen you like that before. I’d never seen you so happy or free because you could never be like that with me. When you looked at me, there was always that underlying concern. You always worried about me, Holden, and I know it’s because you loved me, but… you lost a piece of yourself to me. And you’re always doing that. Even last night, you said it yourself, you just want to make me happy, and that’s not fair to you. I want to make you happy, too, because I love you. I fucking love you. And I never stopped loving you, and if you—if you don’t feel the same, tell me. Right now. And tell me how to get over you, because—”
The door suddenly moves, opening fully, and my lungs empty the moment I see the entirety of him. Black ink stains his torso so deep; it’s permanent. Rays of dark sunlight from his collarbone down his ribs, each sunbeam wrapped in vines and leaves and tiny flowers. My vision blurs as I take in his chest, the centerpiece… the compass inside an anatomical heart.
“What’s with the compass?” he asked.
“It’s right above your heart.”
“But why a compass?”
“Because it’s where I feel the most found.”
“Jamie, you don’t need to be doing this.” It’s like coming out of a dream. Or a nightmare. I didn’t even realize Brianna was the one to open the door fully until right this moment. Dressed in nothing but Holden’s work shirt, she says, “You’re a strong, independent woman, and you don’t need—”
I turn away. And I do what I always do when I’m in a situation I don’t want to be in. I run. My steps hasten when hear him behind me, nipping at my heels.
I’ve been here before…
I’ve felt this before.
Knocking on his door and pouring my heart out all those years ago didn’t end well then either. Sure, he didn’t sleep with Bethany, Dean’s ex, but it feels the same. It hurts the same.
“Jamie, stop!”
I wipe the rain from my eyes, empty the hope from my soul. I don’t turn to him when I yell, my throat aching with the force of my withheld sob, “Jesus Christ, it’s like déjà vu.”
“What are you talking about?” he shouts at my back.
“It’s like Bethany all over again!”
“We weren’t even together then!”
I stop. Still. Wait until every organ inside me catches up to my mind. It’s the confusion that comes first… and the heartbreak follows. Slowly, I face him, and I can tell by his ghostly, ashen stare that he’s playing catch up too. Only his mind is catching up to his mouth. “You slept with her?” I breathe out, the rainfall making the heat of my tears temporary.
“Jamie…” His chest rises and falls…
… and I’m barely breathing.
His mouth parts, but he has nothing more to say, nothing more to give.
But I do.
I step forward, slowly releasing my grip on the pendant trapped in my hand. For five years, I’ve kept it with me, always holding on to it—to us—and for what?
For nothing.
Through an ocean of withheld tears, I can just make out the compass tattooed directly over his heart...
A heart where I once lost and found myself.
I slam the pendant there and turn before I can see his reaction.
I get back in the car.
He doesn’t stop me. He merely stands in the rain—barefoot and shirtless—with a front-row seat to my exit from his life.
“You can go now,” I tell Paul, and he doesn’t ask, doesn’t argue. He simply turns the car around and drives away.
I stare out the side mirror, watching Holden shrink into nothing but a memory. My phone rings, and Paul says, “It’s rung a few times while you were out.”
I shift in my seat, find the phone tucked between me and the worn leather. Maggie’s name flashes on the screen, and I answer it before bringing it to my ear. I don’t even try to hide my misery. “Hey.”
“So… where’s the ball?” she asks, her tone solemn.
“What ball?”
“Well, is it in your court or his?”
I look down at my hand and unclench my fist, noting the indentations left by the pendant. “It’s game over, Mags.”
She’s quiet for a long moment. Then: “Who won?”
Through bleary eyes and shattered strength, I reply with the only absolute I have left. “We both lost.”
29
Holden
“You ever wonder what a slow death feels like?”
“Oh, boy,” Mia says, standing over me, blocking the sun from my eyes. I clench a fist around the pendant and tap at her leg, urging her to move.
I’d been lying on the path in the outdoor area of the shop for I don’t even know how long, staring directly into the sun until my retinas burned. I can only handle it for a few seconds at a time. It was either this or take a nice, long bath… with a toaster.
It’s been almost a week since Jamie left, and I’m pretty sure I’m dying. Slowly. Painfully. Only the pain isn’t physical.
“Where’s Benny?” I ask.
“Back home. Leo’s off tomorrow, so he’ll bring him down then.”
I try to look at her, but all I see are splotches of darkness. “So, what are you doing here?”
“Well, once upon a time, I was your best friend. You know, before you replaced me with a five-year-old boy.”
“I like Benny better,” I murmur. “He doesn’t call me out on my bullshit.”
“That’s because he thinks you hang the moon just for him.” She offers me her hand, and I take it, only letting go when I’m back on my feet. “And, your dad may or may not have sent me an SOS text because he thought you might need me.” She grabs a hose from a reel and waits until I’m in position in front of her: arms out, feet apart. “Face?” she asks, and I nod, hold my breath while she hoses me down. I can almost see the steam emitting from my clothes, my flesh. “Feel better?”
“Not really.”
Mia drops her hands to her sides, her head cocked slightly, big brown eyes judging me. “How bad is it?”
“Bad.”
“Unfixable bad?”
Sighing, I run a hand down my face. “I fucked up, Mia.”
Mia’s farm isn’t operational anymore, but when it was, it used to be a dairy farm. Now, it’s just a giant green field with the remnants of what once was. One of those remnants is a massive open shed where they milked the cows. I used to call it The Titty Sucking Factory. Of course, Mia hated the name, but she also hated half the shit that came out of my mouth, so whatever. Granted, I was, like, four when I came up with it, so…
“Tell me everything,” she says, leading me toward a long concrete block. She sits down, and I park it right beside her.
Head in my hands, I mumble, “You’re going to be so mad at me.”
“I’m sure I’ll be mad, but I’ll never be disappointed in you,” she says, her tone soft, comforting. I lock my gaze on hers—her eyes clear and full of clarity—and I don’t know how she’s managed to get through everything she has and come out on top.