Page 22 of Left of Forever

It was December when I thought I could use that college account as an excuse to try to talk with her again, but I got too far ahead of myself and swung by her place without calling first. Sam was surprised when he greeted me, and he told me she was out on a date. I didn’t sleep that night, then later opted to have that conversation over the phone, where I detected nothing beyond her usual cool manners.

My slow season happens to be Wren’s second busiest outside of the summer tourist months, so I found myself making excuses to start going to the bakery throughout December, hoping to see any sort of clue that there was something still there that I could grab onto between us. The first two times I went in, she seemed frazzled and confused when I ordered something at the counter, then slipped off into the back before I could try to make conversation. The third time I went in, she looked downright annoyed to see me.

When she didn’t come to Christmas, I started to accept that I was too late and that she didn’t want anything to do with me in that way again.

I occasionally heard about her going on more dates, when Sam or Silas let something slip. I kept every reaction in check. Told myself it was punishment for not coming clean about the letters.

Seeingit was different. Starhopper had its grand opening party over New Year’s, and when I walked out onto the restaurant deck that night, I spotted her laughing with some guy I didn’t recognize, wearing what I assume was his jacket. I immediately turned around and left before I could do something stupid. I’d wasted so much time telling myself we were just being good parents, giving each other the world’s most careful distance for our son. Really I was just too coward to fight.

When I admitted all of this to my therapist, she helped me try to see it from a new point of view. She told me how lucky I was to still hold the mother of my son in such high esteem, because it’s rarely the case between a divorced couple. She encouraged me to try to find closure, to consider dating myself.

When she suggested that I tell Wren about the letters from fall, I still couldn’t. It was hard for me to explain, but it’s like… like seeing that she had no active interest in reopening something between us made it seem both pointless and wrong that I’d been doing it without her knowing. It was a freak chance that I got her package and her letter, because that’s just what life is: a bunch of circumstances that make relationships more difficult, with the odd lucky chance thrown in. I thought I had to learn to be happy for the chances we’d already had.

By the time February came and went, I’d accepted it more. I started to feel gratitude for what we had. I even felt grateful for those letters, even though they reminded me of what I lost. I felt like I might be able to get some real closure now that I was choosing to work toward it.

I found myself genuinely hoping that she’d find love like what we had. Find something better, even.

I still didn’t feel like I belonged to myself enough to give anything to someone new, though.

I didn’t go to the bakery at all in March. All these things I was working on thinking and feeling were easier when I didn’t see her too much.

It was the second official day of spring when Sam called and asked me to meet over at Wren’s, saying he had something to show both of us. I wandered into her kitchen after she let me in without so much as a glance spared my way and was opening a cabinet to get a glass for some water, when something caught my eye.

My name, handwritten on a piece of paper. In handwriting that I absolutely recognized.

All that perspective I’d been carefully crafting was gone in an instant.

Probably, a better man would have hesitated to read the rest of it, but I sure as fuck didn’t.

And right then and there, I knew there was hope. I’ve never grabbed on to a feeling so fast or so tight.

So, while my timing is indeed shit, while I’ve done things in the wrong order too many times before and almost missed my chance again, this time, I’m not going to give up without a fight.

I see Wren flip around the Closed sign in the distance, and that’s my cue.

CHAPTER 11

WREN

The six weeks after Sam’s college acceptance news have gone by in a flurry of activity. Between finalizing his housing arrangements (he is subletting a room since he can’t get into the dorms until fall), trial runs for the cake and other desserts for Walter and Martha’s upcoming nuptials, and the general influx of business we’ve had this spring, I’ve managed to stay distracted and have successfully avoided thinking about Ellis’s surprise road trip idea.

For the most part.

When I’m alone in the bakery—my secondary home, really, with how often I’m here—it is normally meditative. Today, I’ve got a music station playing instrumental renditions of pop hits on, and the door propped open to let in the briny spring breeze. There are no decals on the windows since I got Mom to agree to redo our sign a few years back, so my view is unobstructed across the street and over the park along one of our many cliffs. I used to watch Sage push Sam in a stroller around that trail when he was ababy. And today, he’s graduating high school. In under a month, he’s moving. Probably forever.

I snap myself out of my nostalgia tailspin and growl to break up the knot forming in my throat. My steps clip-clop over black and white hexagon tiles on my way to shut the door, and I flip around the Closed sign before I head back into the kitchen to finish decorating the sheet cake for Sam’s class.

Between tonight and all the other upcoming events where I’ll have to see Ellis, I can’t avoid acknowledging the trip much longer. Or at minimum, I can’t avoid talking about it much longer. I have to call on Sage—something I’m reluctant to do when it comes to anything with Ellis.

It’s not that I don’t think Sage has the emotional bandwidth to stay objective as both a friend to me and as a sister to Ellis. It’s that Iknowshe does, but I also know it has to be hard, and I hate putting that pressure on her. I’ve watched her take on things in the name of other people’s feelings time and time again, so I imagine it’s a cumbersome load when it comes to the happiness of two people you love. I’m unpracticed when it comes to being on this side of our relationship, though. Being the one who needs something. I much prefer being the one with the advice or the perspective to share.

Silas is another resource, but… he’s a man and lacks the more nuanced, touchy-feely understanding that Sage has in spades.

At any rate, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m at a loss and she’s got the burden of being my best friend, so hemming and hawing about it too much longer is pointless. I need to purge some of it out of my head before I see Ellis again tonight.

I slip my phone out of my apron and hit Call before I give myself more time to dwell, tucking it between my shoulder and ear so I can keep my hands busy piping.

“Hey!” chirps her sunshine voice after a few rings.