Page 93 of My Favorite Lost Cause
I’m dropping the dogs off at home and heading to Barcelona early. I’ve loved these weeks with you here—I’ve never been happier—but we both know that it can’t last. It’s time for me to move on with my life.
Much love, Maren
I sink onto the bare mattress and put my head in my hands. Was it something I said this morning? Whatever it was, I wish to God I hadn’t said it.
And how exactly is she planning to move on? With another guy? WithAndrew?
I’m furious, but can I actually blame her? She’s been nothing but clear about what she wants from the start. She’s a traditional girl—she wants marriage and kids and more pets than any family should own. And what did I give her? Not a fucking thing. I’ve fallen at her feet for the past decade, I’ve rarely told her no, but I still never offered her the things sheactually needed from me.
I storm out of the cottage with the letter in hand just as Elijah’s opening the door from the basement.
“Did you know about this?” I demand. “Did you know she was leaving? Is that why you gave me the third degree this morning about locking it down?”
“I knew she was thinking of leaving,” he says, letting the doors slam behind him. “What did you expect her to do, Charlie? She’s not the kind of girl you treat like a dirty secret.”
“Fuck you. I never treated her like that.”
“Yeah?” he challenges. “So I guess that means you must’ve had a talk with her about where the relationship was heading? I guess that means you made it official somehow and I just missed the announcement?”
I scowl at him. “We were happy the way things were, and I didn’t want to ruin it. I didn’t want to mess with a good thing.”
“I’m not trying to rub salt in the wound, bro, but that’s the kind of shit a guy says about a mistress or a dirty secret. You’ve made yourself known to her as the guy who wouldn’t settle down, and I’m guessing you never once indicated that something had changed. I mean,hasit changed? Because if you’re still that guy and you still can’t make a commitment, you should just let her move on with her fucking life. If there’s some guy willing to ditch everything to meet her in Barcelona, then just let her go.”
I crumple the note in my fist. “Is that what she told you? That she’s meeting someone there?”
He shrugs. “She said something like that, but I wasn’t really listening.”
So she left me to go be with Andrew. She climbed out of our bed and left me forAndrewmere hours later. And why wouldn’t she?
Elijah’s right. I should let her go on with her life.
Going to the underworld for somebody takes balls.
I didn’t even have the balls to tell her I’d consider doing it.
43
MAREN
Idrop the puppies off with Kit and head not to Barcelona, but to Paris, dropping my bags in a locker at Charles de Gaulle since I won’t be here long.
I looked up Belleau Wood online after I finished Margaret’s journal. There were twenty thousand casualties total, half of them American—the biggest battle involving US soldiers since Appomattox. The French renamed the areaBois de la Brigade de Marine—Wood of the Marine Brigade—in honor of the US Marines who fought there. William’s regiment, the fifth, was later awarded the Croix de Guerre by the French government. Many of the soldiers are buried at the Aisne-Marne American cemetery nearby. I’d like to see if he’s there. I’d like to finish the story.
The train to Belleau takes an hour, the Uber to the cemetery another ten minutes. It’s so close. So easy to get from one place to the next. If William had lived in another time, he could have reached Margaret in eight hours. Or he could have been the coward he accused George of being and just never have gone to war at all.
But of course, he wasn’t a coward, and he didn’t live inanother time, and everything I’m wishing for them is pointless. They’re both long gone.
I locate his name on the cemetery directory:
William Thomas Howard
Atlanta, Georgia
5th Regiment
It takes a while to find his grave. I set the bouquet of roses I bought beside it.
“I have no idea if you’re living on in Charlie or if this is all in my head,” I whisper. “I have no idea if Margaret is living on in me. I sort of think so, but Charlie would call me Professor Trelawney right now if I said it, or explain that this is how hot girls are a menace.” I laugh and then choke back a sob. “But if you are living on in him, I think he’ll wind up with a happier story, even if it’s one that I’m not a part of. And my ending is happier than Margaret’s, even if it’s not the exact one I wanted.”
