Page 89 of When We Had Forever
“What?”
He waits so long that my stomach churns. “Are you happy? With me?”
The churn intensifies, but I muffle it with a smile. “Of course. I love you. I’d marry you all over again, if I could.”If only so I could have this one vacation.
“Are you sure?” he says. “Because I really need to know. You don’t ever think about the past? Wish you’d done it differently?”
I frown. He never talks like this.
In the pause, I consider admitting everything. How, for all that he’s given me the world, I wish he would buy me less and give me more of himself. How I mourn the easy vulnerability that came so naturally to him, back before Grayson ruined him.
How, at times, I’ve wondered what my life would’ve been like if I’d gotten on that plane to Greece, or what chasing the travel-writer dream would have amounted to.
Except I reallywouldtrade it all over again for more weeks like this one.
So I tell him half the truth, if only as a way of asking him not to close me out again. Especially because I know now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the man I fell in love with still exists. He’s been staring into my eyes all week. “No. No one else could ever make me as happy as you do. And our life together, how hard you work to take care of me...that means everything.Youmean everything, Michael.”
It’s my last-ditch attempt to close the widening gap. To catch hold of this version of him and force him to stay. But he only nods and goes silent, his broad shoulders walling me out as he turns his attention to the window again.
Stung, I face forward and jab at my screen until a movie about ninjas comes on.
I watch the film without really seeing it. The whole time, I think about the necklace. How apt its loss is as a metaphor for our marriage.
Here I am, giving myself, offering him something precious, and he’s just...letting it slip away.
We don’t speak for the rest of the flight. Only after we land in Seattle and he freshens up in the bathroom does he finally relax enough to start a conversation.
On the drive home, I try to blame his fear of flying for the silent interlude. But our sex that night, for once, does nothing for me. It’s mechanical and joyless, and I can’t figure out how ten days’ worth of volcanic buildup could possibly end with such a fizzle.
It does, though. And in the morning, Michael’s side of the bed is empty. He’s already in his office; I can hear the purposeful scratch of pencil against paper, even from down the hall.
I stare at the ceiling, trying to decipher the tangle inside my chest. Defeat and hope war for dominance, and I feel myself arrive at a turning point.
I can give up, or I can keep going. Keep trying.
Eventually, the mental dust settles. The answer seems achingly clear.
Michael’s brother might have scarred him all those years ago, but that didn’t snuff out the spark that first drew us together. Hawaii has proved that I still have a chance at having it all—our life here,plusthe incomparable man who watched the stars on the beach with me.
I just need to find a way to reach him again.
I’ll spend the rest of my life trying, if I have to.
AFTER
On my second morning at the cabin, the world beyond the windows looks different. Sunlight has polished the swaying grass to a gilded shine, and the sky stretches, somehow broader than yesterday. Even the birdsong sounds brighter. Clearer.
I perch on the edge of my bed and marvel. It’s amazing what a change of scenery and a few hours of decent sleep can accomplish.
I spend the morning bustling around, making scrambled eggs and strawberry French toast, then surprise myself by devouring every bite. At noon, I’m busy scrubbing out the pan when the phone rings. I zip into the living room, but my shoulders droop when I answer. “Oh, hey, Mom.”
“Hey, sweetie. How’re you doing? Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” A reluctant smile digs into my cheek. “I’m okay.”
While she chatters away, I survey last night’s mess. Weirdly, the sight of the extinguished lantern—along with the new ashes in the fireplace and the empty cups littering the hearth—almost makes me feel as though I haven’t lied.
We discuss the cabin: what needs to be done before the closing, whether the new owners will use the place themselves or list it on Airbnb. But my mind drifts. By the time my parents sign over ownership, my three days with Grayson will be up.
