Page 13 of A World Without You
The way he chews his lip and looks around at the trees in the distance and the sky and the asphalt below his feet tells me this is no surprise.
“Roslyn will miss you,” he says finally.
“Will they?” I say, less of a question and more of a realization that so many people in this town have been waiting for me to leave.
For me to turn mine and Graham’s house into a vacation rental and bounce. I once heard there were bets at the pub about whether or not I’d end up dragging him to the city and leave this small town behind. But Graham would never leave, and I have no desire to have a husband who kicks and screams because of something I want.
He pauses, then corrects his earlier statement, “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too,” I confess, blowing out a deep breath. “But this...” my voice trails and I try to find the words and come up completely short.
“Was a rash decision built on magical Christmas gumdrop dreams and you’ve finally decided to wake up,” he offers and I laugh.
Charles knows the ins and outs of my relationship with Graham. He saw the day to day. The phone calls or lack of. The weekends I was alone. The effort that was rarely made. People often say the people you work with are the ones least surprised by fellow coworkers getting divorced because they see you every day. Charles saw all of it.
“Yeah, basically.”
He presses his lips into a smile, nodding, then winces in the distance. “You know. Even if this feels like a mistake, I know you love him. And he loves you.”
I nod once, but it’s more of a freeze because I feel so unsure about that. He loved me for a bit. We had the connection, the passion, and the undeniable chemistry. We just came from different worlds. He couldn’t give up his and be successful in mine—nor could I in his. And yet, I was the one who made the sacrifice. I was the one who quit my job, left my boyfriend, and deserted my family to live in a town I’d never heard of with a man I only knew for a week. Snowed in and in love. A whimsical romance that ended in disappointment.
At least for me.
I adjust the beanie on my head. “You know what?”
Charles raises his eyebrows.
“I hope he did love me because then maybe it’ll hurt less when I miss him,” I say and he freezes, swallowing hard. “I’ll miss you. Thank you for everything.”
“And Liv?”
“Yeah?”
“If it’s too much to come in to the lodge today, you don’t have to.”
I almost say it’s not too much—the people pleaser in me wants to say that. But, in truth, it is. I can’t get out of here fast enough. “Thank you.”
He presses his lips together and nods once as he squeezes my arm. He isn’t affectionate—with his words or his body language but he’s my favorite part of this town.
I put the car back in drive and head back to the house. It snowed several inches last night and I can sense the softness of the snow under my tires as I drive. Mornings after fresh snowfall are my favorite. The roads are mostly untouched by the muddy treads of tires. The air is quiet, like every sound wave is trapped by a warm blanket.
I pull back down the gravel driveway I tore down last night, dread seeping through my skin the closer I get to home. When I spot Graham’s truck still home, I blink hard, praying it’s gone when I open my eyes.
But it’s still there. A deep shade of red buried under five inches of white. When I enter the house, he’s seated at the dining room table, nervously cracking his knuckles.
“Why aren’t you at work?” I ask, kicking off my boots.
He exhales so loudly at the sound of my voice I’m convinced he was holding it all night. “Olivia, where’d you go? I’ve been calling you all night. I drove around town trying to find you. I almost called the sheriff. Your car wasn’t anywhere!” He’s shouting louder with each word and step he takes toward me, but not the kind of shouting from anger but shouting that stems from relief. He wraps me in his arms. I breathe him in. His strength. His warmth. The beat of his heart. I have—at some point—loved every part of this man. And I tried to love the life we created...I just didn’t.
I glance at the sad unlit Christmas tree over his shoulder. “Why didn’t you turn on the Christmas lights?”
His gaze shoots from the tree to me. “Are you kidding? I was out looking for you.”
“I was parked on the side of 903. Relax.”
He shakes his head, his forehead carved with disbelief as he tucks back my hair. “No, I went up and down that road probably eight times.”
I squint at the memory of my dream. It felt so real. The memory of it seems almost tangible, making me feel like I’m lying to my almost ex-husband. I shake my head. “I just fell asleep in my car.”
