Page 94 of She Was Made for Me

“I don’t want it to be over,” she says through her tears. I wipe another one away, a sharp ache piercing my chest.

“I don’t want that either. But… I think it has to be.”

More tears spill from her eyes and I gather her close again, blinking as my own eyes moisten. She shakes with sobs in my arms and I want nothing more than to kiss her pain away, but I know I can’t do that anymore. Instead, I let her cry as much as she needs, knowing I won’t get to hold her again. Knowing that whenever she cries in the future, someone else will be the one to hold her, to comfort her.

Eventually, she pulls away, wiping her face. “I guess I should go to Sadie’s tonight. Hopefully I can get a flight out tomorrow.”

The thought of Violet going back to the West Coast and out of my life makes me want to pull her close again, to tell her she can’t go. I ignore the pain lacerating my heart and nod.

“Unless I stay, for one last night?” she ventures, almost shyly.

God, I want that. I want every last second I can have with her, but now that we’ve decided not to tell Rich, it feels more wrong than ever. And if I kiss her again, if I touch her again, I won’t be able to let her go.

“I think…” I try to clear the thickness from my throat. “I think it would be too hard.”

“You’re probably right.” She takes a deep breath, finally regaining some composure. I, on the other hand, feel as though I’m on the brink of falling apart. “What will you do?”

I lift a shoulder. “I’ll pack up the truck and head back first thing tomorrow.” I want to leave as soon as possible, but I feel too raw, too shaky and emotionally wrung out to trust my driving tonight.

She nods, gazing up at me from red, puffy eyes. We stand in the entry hall looking at each other, both of us fighting the urge to take it back. It takes all my strength not to reach for her again.

Just when I think I can’t take it for a moment longer, she sighs deeply and drags herself upstairs. I busy myself going down to lock up the bi-fold doors to the backyard, my heart clenching as I remember catching her when she fell from the ladder, remember the way we couldn’t keep our hands off each other by the back wall. What will I do without her in Maine? How will I go back to my life as it was? Will everything in my cabin remind me of her now?

I get lost in thought in the basement, and by the time I finally haul myself back to the entry hall, Violet is standing there with her belongings.

“I’ll call you a cab,” I offer, but she shakes her head.

“I’ve ordered an Uber. Thanks, though.”

I step forward, hesitate, then lift my hand to touch her cheek one last time. “For what it’s worth, the past two months have been the best of my life.”

“Mine too,” she whispers. Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears again.

God, what am I doing? Letting her go like this? Saying goodbye to the woman whom I’m pretty sure is the love of my life?

But what else can I do? I can’t force her to tell Rich. I can’t ask her to sacrifice her relationship with him, and I can’t ask her to give up this job for me. It’s me who has to make the sacrifice. She never promised me more. I shouldn’t have had anything at all, truth be told, and I’m lucky I got what little time with her I did. It’s time to let Violet go. It’s the right thing to do.

“I hope the job goes well. Just… promise me you won’t go back to working insane hours and not looking after yourself.”

She lets out a small, watery laugh. “I promise. Thank you. For everything.” She hovers for a moment, then steps up onto her toes to give me one last, soft kiss. I have to clench my hands into fists to stop myself from touching her, holding her close and not letting her leave.

When she steps away, my heart howls in protest. My voice cracks as I say, “Goodbye, Violet.”

“Bye, Kyle.” She grabs her bags and heads out without looking back.

The door clicks shut, and I slump back against it, letting the tears fall.

* * *

It’s notan exaggeration to say that last night was one of the worst of my life. I barely slept. I probably should have driven back last night because I feel even worse now, but I can’t stay in this house for a minute longer. Everything reminds me of Violet, of our time together, and I need a clean break. I need to return to Maine and get my life back on track. Somehow.

I get everything packed up and ready by six in the morning. It takes several trips to lug everything down to the entry hall, and on the final trip I stop short with surprise when I see Rich letting himself in through the front door.

“Oh. Hey.” I set the last of my stuff down on the pile. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t think I’d let you leave town without saying goodbye, did you?”

“How did you—”

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