She returns with a bottle of bourbon and two glasses of ice, setting them on the small end table beside me. “You can pour.”
While I do that, she turns the lights up a little. It lets us see each other better but isn’t so bright it blocks the sight of the snow falling heavily outside the windows. Her fingers brush mine when I hand a glass to her and she sits facing me on the couch, cross legged.
“Did Renee ever threaten to kill herself?”
“No.”
“My mother did. She told me if I left to go to college, she wouldn’t make it on her own, that she may as well die. I left, and she followed through. Did I kill her?”
Fuck, her mother committed suicide. I shouldn’t have told her that story. Serious brown eyes stare into mine, and my mouth dries up. It’s not a rhetorical question. She’s waiting for an answer.
“Of course not,” I choke out.
Her eyebrows climb her forehead. “She specifically threatened suicide. I didn’t believe her, and I left. You didn’t even know Renee was considering it. By your logic, Mom’s death is my fault.”
“It’s…different. You’re supposed to leave your parents, go to school…”
“And you’re never supposed to break up with someone? Do you think you should’ve just stayed with her, given up the rest of your life and any chance at finding someone you love because she couldn’t cope?”
One glass of whiskey isn’t enough, and I pour myself another. “I shouldn’t have let her love me in the first place.”
“Oh, I think I get it. You’re supposed to stay alone your whole life so you don’t accidentally hurt someone who might kill themselves.”
Her tone is pissing me off. “Stop saying it so it sounds so…ridiculous,” I snap.
“I’m sorry. You say it so that it doesn’t sound ridiculous.”
“Naomi! God damn it!” She doesn’t blink when I set my glass down on the table almost hard enough to break. Anger is trying to take over because I’m on the defensive now.
Instead, she looks at me, calm, but with tear glazed eyes. “That’s fine, Ax. Get pissed. Because I am. I was pissed when Mom killed herself and I’m mad as hell that your ex did that to you. I wanted the same thing you did. A life. On my own. I was entitled to it and so were you. Everyone is.
“It’s horrible, what they did. A terrible end for them, but they left us with the uncertainty, with the guilt, with the thought that we could’ve saved them, and fuck them for that.”
“Your mom,” I utter, directing the subject back to her. “You said you filed a wrongful death lawsuit.”
“I did. She shot herself. Mom had a documented history of mental illness and never should’ve been able to buy a gun. Even the lax gun laws should’ve prevented it, but she bought it from a vendor at a gun show who didn’t run background checks. I sued the organizer of the gun show and won.”
Her fingers pick at the knee of her pants. “I thought it would make me feel better, you know? If I could make someone responsible. Blame someone. It didn’t. And I didn’t like that I ended up profiting from her death, so the money has just sat in that account for years.”
She looks up at me. “I felt guilty too at first. There wasn’t an ounce of me that believed she’d kill herself, especially not because I left. She never seemed to give too much of a shit when I was around. I guess she couldn’t handle being alone. It took a couple of years and some therapy to let go of the guilt, and sometimes I still feel angry.”
Heated eyes burn into mine. “You didn’t kill Renee. She killed herself. I am so damn sorry she put you through all that, but not one bit of it was your fault.”
I’m horrified to find a lump growing in my throat and when I look away, she embraces me. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Ax. Renee’s death, your mother leaving, those are things that happened to you not because of you.”
There’s nothing in the world I’d like to believe more, but she can’t know that for sure. Sitting back, I pick up my glass and drink. My mind is full of contradicting thoughts, pushing and pulling at one another for dominance until I feel half crazy with it. One thing still comes out on top. She can’t love me. I can’t take the risk of driving her away, and if I found her the way I did Renee, I’m not sure I’d survive it.
She can’t love me.
I can’t love her.
When I don’t say anything, she slides a soft palm over my jaw and her eyes shine with unshed tears when she speaks. “I love you, but my love is not your responsibility or a prison you’re caught in. If you want it, it’s here. Either way, I’ll survive, but I can’t keep doing this. The back and forth and sleeping together, then pretending it never happened. It hurts too much. I’d never leave you or Caden, but we have to stop.”
My heart beats in my ears and the seconds feel like an eternity while we gaze at each other. Because this is it. This is the moment when I end whatever was trying to grow between us. For both of our sakes. So many words want to break free. I want to tell her how much she’s changed my life, how much she’s made me care again, love again, how I wouldn’t have the relationship I have with Hatch if it wasn’t for her. Everything in me wants her to know that as much as I fought against it, as much as I don’t want it to be true, I love her.
Her lips part the tiniest bit and they accept mine with no resistance. One last, long, soft kiss before I pull away and nod. “You’re right. We have to stop.”
Her chest hitches, and I can see the pain spread over her features. She gets to her feet and heads for the stairs. “Naomi…” I don’t know how to finish. There’s nothing I can say.
“I’m going outside for a minute. I need some fresh air.”
“Security—”
“I’m just going out on the deck. Not leaving.” Defeat hangs in her voice, and I hate it.
But I let her go.
The sound of the cabin door closing sounds so final, even though I know she’s right outside. It’s like I can feel her through the walls, her suffering that matches mine. Someday in the future, when she’s safe and happy, she’ll understand. Safe and happy with someone else. The thought sends a spike through my chest, and I forgo the glass for the bottle of bourbon.
A few minutes pass before my phone beeps with a text.
Naomi: I’m going to spend the night in Dani’s room. Security is taking me over.
My fingers hover over the phone. I want to tell her to come back. That even knowing she’s downstairs in her room would be better than sitting here alone, listening to the wind howl, but I can’t be that selfish. She should have Dani’s company and comfort. Let her have Hatch’s silliness to help her through. After running through so many responses in my head, I finally reply.
ME: Okay.
Really, what else is there to say? We’ve both laid everything out and we know where we stand now.
Alone.
The sound of a snowmobile motor grows, then fades away again. As good a way as any for security to escort her, I suppose.
I need to write. It’s the only thing I can do to keep my head straight right now. The lights flash as I start down the stairs, and I pause, waiting to see if they’re going to go out. Not that it matters. I couldn’t give one fuck.