I heard the soft sounds of her crying, and I wanted to be the one to wipe away her tears. But I knew that would only make it worse. I also knew Ellie needed to find happiness, and if she thought she needed to do it alone, it would be wrong to stop her. I tried to find some comfort in knowing I was doing the right thing for her, but I couldn’t manage it.
My stomach knotted as I rose from the bed we’d shared for the last couple of weeks, and I pulled on the jeans I’d thrown across a chair the night before. I used the bathroom and when I came out, Ellie was just exiting the guest room, carrying her bag. “I called George and asked for a ride,” she said.
I was glad she had. I didn’t think I could handle more than one goodbye. I smiled sadly at her and took the bag, walking toward the front door. It felt like the sadness of the moment was too much to bear, as if I might suffocate with it.
I pulled the door open. George’s truck was already idling outside, although he was turned away, most likely to give us the privacy he must know we needed.
I leaned against the doorframe, putting my hands in my pockets to stop myself from grabbing her and begging her to stay. “I’ll miss you.” It seemed like the only thing to say, and by the look on her face, I could tell she’d heard my whole heart in the words.
She brushed the hair away from my eyes and then put her hand on my cheek and smiled so tenderly I almost grabbed her anyway, though I’d promised myself I wouldn’t. “You will always be the great love of my life, Gabriel Dalton.” And then she turned and she left.
I closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor. I put my head in my hands, and I let the agonizing pain envelop me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Whatever you do, do it with your whole heart.
Lemon Fair, the Queen of Meringue
ELLIE
I didn’t do much other than cry those first few days. Entering my apartment had been surreal—as if the space had existed in another lifetime. In some respects, I supposed that was accurate.
The pain of leaving Gabriel was so acute it was a physical ache, and I felt as if my body and soul were being pinned under a heavy boulder. I hurt everywhere, my flesh and bones, and deep down to my very spirit. I knew in my heart what I’d done was right for both of us, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t agonizing.
I felt scared and so incredibly lonely, and I figured I’d flounder. But I’d known sitting by the window in the darkness of Gabriel’s bedroom, listening to the soft sounds of his breathing: It was a floundering I had to do alone. I was lost and the only one who could save me was myself. It wasn’t fair to either of us for me to hide behind Gabriel—both physically and emotionally—rather than facing the world.
And I had to set him free to choose Chloe if she was the woman he was meant to be with if life’s timing had been different. I pictured them together again like they were that day at the Morlea Fall Festival—how happy and beautiful—and I knew in my gut that to deny him the opportunity for a life like that would be selfish. I loved him, his heart and his soul, and I cared for his happiness above my own. I wanted the very best for him, even if it wasn’t me. Still, it was a sharp knife impaling my most tender spots to picture him loving her, to imagine his hands moving on her body the way they’d moved on mine, to see them married, with sweet little brown-haired children. I clenched my eyes shut against the vision, pushing it away. It would do me no good to dwell on such things.
I’d called my landlady as soon as I’d arrived to thank her for being so patient with me and to tell her I had my overdue rent payment—dropping a check for two months’ worth in the mail to bring it up to date. I’d only earned three weeks of pay from my work at the quarry office, and I needed to make sure I had enough to get my car out of the garage and to buy groceries until I could find another job. With the thought of bills and job hunting, a fresh wave of fear and loneliness swept over me, but I was determined to figure something out. I had to, God, I had to. If Gabriel had taught me anything, it was that life didn’t have to be filled with pain and doubt all the time. There was something lovable about me; Gabriel had shown me that, too. I just needed to figure out what it was and maybe, oh God, maybe find a way to love myself.
My entire life had shifted under my feet, and I hadn’t known what to grasp on to, what to clutch so I didn’t fall. I had no idea how to get my bearings. And so I’d grabbed onto the only thing solid in my life: Gabriel. I’d grown emotionally dependent on him in a way I knew wasn’t healthy for either of us. Every small thing caused me to doubt and to hurt, and to feel a thousand insecurities that might not even be real. I’d ceased being able to tell, and I knew in my heart that my desperate sort of clawing love would end up as a kind of prison for Gabriel. I loved him far too much to subject him to a second life sentence. He’d already experienced one. Leaving was the hardest thing I’d ever done, but it was right. I knew it was right.
And so after a couple of days of allowing myself to wallow in pain, I got up and cleaned my apartment, scrubbing every nook and cranny and opening the windows for a short time to air it out with the cold fall wind.
I called the garage where my car was being kept and told the guy who answered the phone I was coming by to pick it up. I put on my sneakers and jacket and made the two-mile journey. I had woken up with a crick in my neck, and it got worse as I walked. My leg pained me a little and my stride grew slower and slower, but despite my aches, it felt great to exercise, and the brisk air felt good in my lungs.
Ricky was at the front desk when I walked into the small front office of the garage, the smell of coffee and motor oil hitting my nose, the heat of the interior space warming me immediately. Ricky smiled warmly. “Well, look who it is. You look great.”
I smiled back as Ricky came from behind the counter and gave me a quick hug. “Hi, Ricky. Thanks so much for keeping my car. Sorry it’s taken me so long to get here.”
He shook his head as he returned behind the desk, digging through a drawer and pulling out a key with my name scribbled on the large tag. He handed it across the counter. “When I told my dad you were coming in, he told me not to charge you. Said you’d been through enough.”
I blinked in surprise. “Thank you. Oh, I … well, I couldn’t—”
“You can. And seriously, get out of here before my tight-ass dad changes his mind.” He laughed, and a burst of warmth filled my chest. I put my hand over my heart as if I’d be able to feel the heat emanating from the inside.
“Thank you, Ricky. I can’t tell you how much this means to me. I … will you thank your dad for me, too?”
“Sure will. Your car’s at the back left of the lot. You take care of yourself, okay?”
I nodded, trying my best to hold back the tears. “I will.” And I meant it. Or at least I was going to give it my best damn try.
Once I’d let myself into my car, I turned the key in the ignition and listened as it came easily to life. I leaned my head back on the seat and felt thankful. The money Ricky and his dad had saved me meant so much to me right now.
As I passed through the downtown area on my ride home, I spotted a sign advertising ten dollars off pedicures at the nail shop I’d gone to once in a while when I had a little extra money. It was a small extravagance I’d afforded myself now and again. I certainly didn’t have the extra cash now, yet I pulled my car over into an empty spot across the street, rolling my sore neck on my shoulders. God, sitting in the massage chair while soaking my feet in warm water sounded so wonderful; I stared at the shop window longingly as if I were walking through the desert and it was a lush, green oasis.