Chapter Twenty-Four
James admired Reese while she stood beside the stove that she’d been so excited about cooking on. Even doing something as simple and ordinary as stirring soup, she took his breath away. How the hell was he going to do this day-to-day thing without her? Would it only get worse every time he saw her and then had to say goodbye again and again?
And again.
The pain at the back of his throat made it difficult to swallow. Suddenly, the kind of relationship he’d been positive he wanted had become his greatest fear. It sounded like the kind of arrangement that might destroy him.
Would a clean break be a better option?
She finally realized he’d come into the room and turned to him with a sad smile. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat.” Had she been crying? “What’s wrong, Goldilocks?”
“Nothing. I’m good.”
Her eyes told the truth. She wasn’t herself, and he wanted to get her talking and figure out what was bothering her. Maybe she was nervous about starting her job, but he hoped she was just sad about a future of missing him, like he was. “Did you get everything you needed in town today? Prescription refills and all that stuff?”
“I don’t take any prescriptions.” A timer dinged, and she pulled cornbread from the oven.
“You can get birth control pills without one?”
Her head cocked to the side, and she squinted at him. “I’m not on birth control pills.”
Her words were like being doused in ice water. “What do you mean? I saw them fall out of your purse the first time you came out here.”
She turned off the burner on the stove, walked around him, and sat at the table but didn’t say a word.
“Reese?”
“When I went to Austin to see Lila after my initial visit here, I also had a doctor’s appointment.” She shook her head and focused on James. “She took me off the pill.”
“And you just forgot to mention it?” Alarm had changed his words from consoling to accusing, and his boots clomped as he paced.
She kept her seat but turned her head to stare at him. “I didn’t have any idea you thought I was taking them. Why would I have told you I stopped?”
“You should’ve told me.”
She crossed her arms and sat up taller. “We always use condoms. Why are you getting so worked up?”
“Because…” His muscles locked with what this could mean. There was that time the condom had broken. “I told you I don’t want children. Were you hoping to get pregnant? Hoping that would change my mind about marriage?”
Her eyes went wide. “Whoa there, buddy. Are you accusing me of trying to trap you?”
“I don’t know what you were trying to do.” A shiver rocked him. “Why the hell do you think I’m asking?”
“Dude, you need to check yourself. I don’t know where this is coming from, but you’re way off base.”
He swung around mid-stride. “You’ve kept things from me before. How do I know what to believe?”
Color drained from her face, and he could feel the hurt rolling off her as the light snapped out of her blue eyes. A lone tear glistened and rolled away, just like she would do.
He should’ve gotten out of the house before he said something unforgivable, but judging by the look on her face, it was too late. He spun on his heels and crossed to the back door. He needed to calm down and think before he said anything else he couldn’t take back, but he turned once more before leaving and stood statue still, memorizing her face.
James walked out and left the door standing open between them.
…
In the time it took Reese’s heart to beat just once, it fractured. James’s words sliced like the sharpest knife, cutting away their chance of a sweet and tender goodbye. He’d stood so still, like he was gone, nothing but a shell. Then he’d…left.
Good thing I’m not pregnant.
The rumble of his diesel truck roared away, with her heart in tow.
“I can’t believe he just walked away without even listening or discussing this. Big, infuriating, stubborn horse’s ass! He’s all out of second chances.” She grabbed a dish towel and slapped it against the counter. She’d made mistakes, but she had owned up to them and asked for forgiveness.
“If he doesn’t want to forgive me and thinks those things about me…then I guess it’s time to leave. Thank God I took the job.”
Her flight instinct took hold and she sprang into action, throwing her clothes into a suitcase. Next, she packed up her makeshift darkroom and camera equipment. She wasn’t allowing herself to think like she’d done the time she’d left the cottage. This time she moved like a robot, getting things done. Once her belongings were loaded, she sat at Benjamin MacLachlan’s desk to write a letter. Just because he wouldn’t listen didn’t mean she couldn’t get in a last word. But it didn’t mean those words couldn’t come from the heart.
As she rolled the pen between her fingers, anger mingled with hurt and so many questions. She tried to understand his accusations. Had his reaction come from a place of truly distrusting her, or was there something more to it? Could he be struggling with her leaving as much as she was? Was this some misguided attempt to protect himself?
She did not allow herself to write anger-filled words that would only lead to hurt feelings and more heartache.
She left the letter on his bedside table, along with one other item. She took something of his, a T-shirt that still smelled like him. She stood, frozen in the doorway, for how long she wasn’t sure, before turning and walking out of the house. The heavy wooden door clicked closed behind her, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe or swallow.
On the way to her van, her keys slung out of her hand and went between two potted plants at the end of the front walk. She knelt to retrieve them, sharp rocks digging into her knees. And the key to the cottage, the one he’d made for her only weeks ago, stabbed into her palm as if it were a warning of the pain to come.
After some distracted fumbling, she started Petunia and drove away. Reese retraced her steps away from Cypress Creek. Away from their brief love affair. She’d never hear his deep voice saying he loved her or asking her to stay. It had been obvious he cared, just not enough to build a life with her.
Her heart had fallen for James piece by piece. Now, a chunk sheared off, sharp and painful. And left her heart jagged as an arrowhead.
She’d move far away and build a life she could be proud of. If she found a way to have a baby, that would be the cherry on the sundae. If not, she’d adopt.
…
James sat beside his mother’s grave, under the shade of a two-hundred-year-old oak tree. The air was oppressively still and sweat trickled down his back.
“Mom, I said things I shouldn’t have. Things I don’t believe and didn’t mean.” He twirled a dry leaf between his fingers, then crushed it in his fist. “I hurt her because I’m disappointed that she’s leaving. I overreacted to what she said, but I shouldn’t have. I was ready to try. Ready to ask her to stay, and even considering—”
He choked on the words. He couldn’t say “having a baby” out loud, not while staring at his baby brother’s name carved in stone.
“But then she got the job. Even though I should’ve been prepared, it hit me hard. I can’t take this chance away from her. I have to let her go.”
Something buzzed around his head and he waved a hand to shoo it away. The insect persisted. A dragonfly landed on his arm. He held his breath and slowly leaned forward. Lacy blue wings brushed his skin and jewel-like eyes looked into his.
“Remember when I’d catch dragonflies? You always told me to set them free so they could live their life. Every time I see one, I think of you. I wish you could tell me what to do.”
A gust of cool air blew through the trees, raining leaves down upon him and cooling the sweat on his skin. Some misalignment between his heart and mind shifted and formed a connection. He’d been holding himself captive, like some insect in a jar. It was time to let himself fly free. Time to live life.
He looked up to the sky. “I should go talk to her. Tell her I’m sorry for being an asshole, again, and that she should chase her dreams. But make sure she knows I’m here if she wants to come home. Make sure she knows I love her. Thanks, Mom.”
The dragonfly lifted into the air, circled around him, and disappeared into the branches of the tree.
When James drove up to his house, her van was gone. He rushed inside, tripping up the front steps and bumping into furniture. “Reese!” He called her name, knowing she wasn’t there to answer. Her darkroom was dismantled and now only a bathroom. He rushed from room to room, hoping he was wrong. He ran into his bedroom. Her clothes were gone. Her makeup was gone.
The light she’d brought into his life was gone.
A crushing pressure squeezed his heart like it had been wrapped in wet leather and hastily dried in the sun. He sat on the side of the bed and pulled her pillow against his face, inhaled, and choked back a sob. That’s when he saw her book, The One for Her, on the bedside table. She’d left it behind, again. A note stuck out from between the pages. He read her words several times, willing it to say something different other than goodbye. He was too late. His sweet Reese was gone. Again.
The breath left his lungs in a heartrending rush. When would he learn? He’d tried to prepare for her leaving, but the cracks in his heart, the ones that had so recently been filled with love, bled out.