Page 115 of Never Forever

“You’ll leave Calico Cove for five months to take care of the baby in Vancouver?”

“Vancouver?” he said. “Where you went when you filmed your first TV show? I always wanted to see it.”

Wait? That excited him?

“Yep. Followed by Atlanta,” I added.

“Atlanta. I could finally see the Coke factory.”

Who was this man?

“What about the ferry?” I asked him.

“Carlos is coming on full time. He can take over when I need him to.” He said all of this like it was nothing. Like he had no ties here. Like he hadn’t picked this place over me years ago.

“It’s that easy, huh?”

“Pretty easy.”

“What about your dad?”

He looked down at the grass and then stood up, his knees creaking. “Dad would want me to go with you. He would want me to live my life.”

“What if you fall in love with someone else?”

For a second he looked dumbfounded by the question, like I’d really stumped him. Finally, he shook his head.

“I won’t.”

“But you don’t love me.” The words were a gauntlet. “And I don’t love you. So there is a chance we could fall in love with other people.”

A dragonfly landed on the arm of the chair where I was sitting. It’s blue veined wings glittering. Another one joined it. It was easier to look at those dragonflies than at Matt. His eyes would be green gold in this end of day sunlight. His hair would be a halo around his head. Gold with the red highlights from his father shining through. He’d be beautiful.

So, I couldn’t look.

“Carrie…” he breathed. “I won’t love anyone else.”

“I’m going to go inside,” I said. “Let me know how it goes with the boat.”

I took one step and he grabbed me by the elbow, pulling me back toward him. Reeling me in until I felt the heat of his body. The size of it. I remembered him holding me like it was yesterday.

I craved it like that cheeseburger that made me sick.

“I loved you,” he said. “You.”

A sweet rage filled me. He didn’t. He couldn’t have or he wouldn’t have done what he did. I tried to pull my elbow back, but his hold on me was firm. Not hard. Not mean. He just wasn’t going to let me go.

“And I’m sorry I hurt you, but you have to know I broke my own heart just as much.”

“I don’t believe you.” I said, remembering all of it. Every word seared into my heart. The memory was the thing I pulled up when I needed to cry on film. When I needed to scream.

This was a mistake. We were a mistake.

“You wanted to hurt me that night.”

“Yeah, I did,” he admitted. “I have spent almost every night since you left wishing I’d done it differently, but I didn’t. And I can’t go back and change it.”

“Why?” I asked, against my better judgement. “Why would you have wanted to hurt me like that?”

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