“I’ll be back as soon as I can, as often as I can,” he vows.
I nod against his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt caressing my cheek. His biceps flex as they lock around me. I clasp my hands together behind his back, rocking from side to side, sinking my nose between his pecs. I inhale deeply. His scent is a balm to my nervous system—always has been. Sleeping so soundly next to him the last two nights has me preemptively mourning my loss of sleep until he returns.
“If you don’t let go, I can’t hurry and come back.” He relaxes his arms and kisses the top of my head. I nod again, not trusting my voice.
We spent the whole day on the beach yesterday. The waves weren’t perfect for beginners, but he let me show him a few things and evenstood up and rode a few for a couple seconds before he fell. He chalked it up to his balance from kickboxing. I think he was born an athlete and just doesn’t know it. We talked about our family dynamics a lot. He doesn’t know where his athleticism comes from because his parents were addicts as far back as he can recall. I confessed that my urge torunwhen things get tough comes from both of mine. My dad was always happier deployed—like he needed to be over there fighting forthem(the best friends he lost) because they no longer could. My mom can’t be in our house without him for more than a couple days before you can tell she is coming out of her skin, itching to leave.
As much as I believe we are not destined to become our parents, I think some of that modeled behavior gets in and must be unlearned. A therapist would say realizing that is half the battle. I say it’s the easy part. The real work is in not perpetuating the cycle—much easier said than done. Still, I’m committed. I’m done running. Now that I’ve had these days with Julian again, I refuse to live without him.
“Okay,” I reply and let my arms slip to my sides. I step back and add, “But I’m not going to watch you drive away.”
“Okay, pretty girl.” He rubs my earlobe between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ll see you soon, Ever. Promise.” He pulls my chin to him and kisses me sweetly on the lips. “Miss me.” He winks and turns to open the driver’s door.
I turn and rush inside my cottage and flop on the couch, listening as the sound of the Jeep grows more distant until I can’t hear it at all.
My phone dings on the coffee table with a text from Callie. She and Auz are in the studio and want me to pop in for some quick YouTube content. Perfect distraction. I reply that I’m on my way. Before I move from the couch to walk over to the building next to mine, I pull upJulian’s contact info and unblock his number, pull up his text screen and type two words.
I will.
Chapter 30
Julian
Stepping into Allie’s house,myhouse, doesn’t hold the same peace it used to. It’s just a house now, not my home. My home has stormy gray eyes and chestnut brown hair and smells like sunshine—and now salt, sea and sand. My cheeks lift on the image swimming through my mind. I can’t wait to get back to her. To give us every chance at a life together, I’m going to immerse myself in her world—even if it doesn’t last. My heart plummets on that last thought, my hand flying to my chest to rub the spot that bears her name, forever inked into my skin. I’ll always wonder what could’ve been if I don’t try.
I talked to Allie and Ashley on the six-hour drive home about traveling down south more often. They teased the idea of me relocating to Malibu. Allie was right. Ashley is stoked to have me around more often. From a business standpoint, relocating would make everything easier. From a family standpoint, Allie sounds elated at the possibility. She all but begged me to move in with them—the house has more than enough room—but I want to prove to them I can be self-sufficient. Iwant to build a life separate from them, and Ever, that I can be proud of but include them in it. Not just show up and feel like I’m invading their lives.
Dr. Carver agrees. I left her a voicemail after talking to Allie and Ashley. She called me back just before I hit Blue Lake and sounds impressed with my plans. I wait for her to tell me it’s too soon, too abrupt for these decisions, but she loves the idea of me getting away from Cavern County, South Point specifically.
“There’s a big world out there, Julian, and moving closer to your family sounds wonderful.”My family.
I say what I’m thinking. “My family?”
“Yes, Julian. Your family. We are not who we come from. We get to decide. I think you’ve chosen your family well. Being in and a part of each other’s lives more regularly sounds like just what you need. I’m so happy for all of you. If there’s anything I can do to help the process, just reach out.”
“Of course. Thanks, Doc—Claire. Truly. Thank you.”
“Julian, you did the work. I just listened.”
“If you say so.” I laugh to hide my discomfort.
“And you’re welcome. I’m proud of you. This call made my whole day.”
More awkward laughter. “Okay. Um, thanks again. Talk to you soon.”
“Bye, Julian.”
Walking through the rooms of my once-home, I look for personal effects—a framed photo, a phone charger, clothes, shoes and . . . not much else. Small accents here and there. This house is ready for thenext chapter. Allie loves the idea. I’d only begun renting to own it from her. Now we plan to turn it into a VRBO for passive income.
I need to talk with Letty and propose she manage Fit full-time. Seeing our members step up and get certified to run classes got the wheels turning long before my recent trip down south. The idea of relocating to Southern California has been brewing for a while and not just because of Everly. SoCal is a big place. Without Everly, I’d have moved somewhere convenient, close but not exactly near Malibu, for work. With her, I want a place in the vicinity, although pricewise that’s a tall order. Ashley is up to the challenge and excited to start hunting for property, real estate investment being his favoritehobby. Knowing him, he’ll find something ridiculously expensive and offer to be my investor. I need to feel like I’m pulling my weight though. It’s easy to get swept up in the idea of myfound familyas Claire calls them and reap the benefits of his affluency. There’s a fine line between letting themloveme and freeloading. Things I’m sure we’ll cover in upcoming sessions as I navigate relocating. Although I don’t need a therapist to tell me that sponging off someone is not something I’m willing to do, no matter how it’s spun.
Entering the home gym, I look at the things that belong to me. I’ll pack this whole room and move it with me. It’s where I spend most of my time. It’s what drowns out the noise of being alone. Not sure when I stopped being a loner.Yes, I do.The pressure on my chest is less, the heat in my belly not as intense. The low-level panic I feel at wanting to belong with (to?) someone is still there but not as disrupting as it used to be. Admitting that I want to belong is new, but I embrace it.
I know, Doc. We call that progress.
Stepping into the master suite, our old room, I glance around at the memories that superimpose themselves on the decor. Through the sliding doors, the sun is starting its descent into the lake.One last Blue Lake sunset.I sit on the lounge chair beyond the glass and watch until the last streak of light dissolves into the glass surface. It’s still beautiful, but tonight it seems sad. Tonight the orb melting into the water reminds me of a match singed out in a puddle. Later, lying in bed—not our bed, my old bed in my old room—I pick up my phone and tap our text conversation and stare at her words.I will.I didn’t reply when she sent it. I just let those two words settle over me like a weighted blanket. Now though, I want to respond.
Me:Promise?
