Page 77 of Somewhere Without You
He didn’t answer at first—justplucked a dandelion from the ground and rolled the stem between his fingers.
“Mom’s getting worse,”he said.“So the way Iseeit, I can either stay here andwatchherslowlydestroy her life, or I can go and try to make something of my own.”
I tried to process what hewassaying, my mind spinning in a dozen different directions. Katherinehadbeen gone for four years now, married, with a baby on the way—a whole new life she built without me.
I thought of Mom—how thirteen yearshadpassedsince her death and yet Gran still refused to speak her name. I thought of the father I never met, who disappeared before Iwasold enough toevenremember his face.
Why did everyone always leave?
Iknewwhat Logan’s momwaslike—a tornado of a woman whose addiction destroyed everything she touched. I didn’t wantthatfor him. I didn’t want him to suffer.ButI didn’t want him to leave me either. Didthatmake me selfish?Probably.
Hewasall Ihadleft, besides Gran—andevenshe spent more time in her garden than with me these days. SometimesI’dcatch her in the flower beds late at night, the moonlight clinging to her silver hair, her hands deep in the dirt like shewastrying to bury something she couldn’tgetaway from.
“Whendo you leave?”I asked, trying to keep my voice from cracking.
He hesitated.“I ship out for basic tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”I repeated, stunned.“Buthow isthatpossible if youjust—”My words trailed off as realization clicked into place.“How long have youknownabout this?”
“Emily, you’ve got to understand—”
“How long, Logan?”
He stared at the ground.“Six months,”he confessed, so quiet I almost didn’thearhim.
“Six months?”An ache twisted in my gut.“You’veknownyouwereleaving for six months and you’rejustnow telling me?”
“I didn’t want to upset you.”
“Andyou thought waiting until theday beforewouldn’t upset me?”I shouted, on my feet now.
The fieldwasstill, the clouds indifferent above us.Butinside, everythingwasunravelingjustlike it always did.
Logan stood upslowly, brushing his hands on his jeans, not meeting my eyes.Thatmade it worse somehow. Like he couldn’tevenface me after whathe’ddone.
“I wanted to tell you,”he said.“I almost did. A dozen times.Butevery time Ilookedat you, I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I didn’t want toseethatlookon your face.”
“Whatlook?”I snapped, heart pounding.
He gesturedvaguelyat me.“Thatone. Like I’vejustripped the ground out from under you.”
I folded my armstightlyacross my chest, trying to hold myself together.“Maybeyou shouldseeit.Maybethenyou’dunderstand what thisactuallymeans.”
Logan ran a hand over his face, frustrated.“It’s not like I’m dying, Emily.”
“No,”I saidcoldly.“You’re leaving.Justlike everyone else.”
He flinched.Thathit the mark.Good.
“I’m not trying to hurt you,”he said, softer now.“I’mjusttrying to find a way out.”
“Out of what?”I asked.“This town? Your mom?Me?”
His silence said enough.
I turned away, staring out over the field, where the wind bent the grass and the cloudsjustkept moving like none of this mattered. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to tell him not to go,thathewasmaking a mistake—but I didn’t.Becausemaybeitwasn’ta mistake.Maybehim leaving meanttherewasnothing left holding me here either.
“Whendo you leave?”I asked again, quieter now.
