She swirled the wine in her glass but didn’t take a drink. “And good thing my job at the station never involves weekend work either.” A cold was creeping into her voice, an awful chill far worse than the subzero temperature outside.
“I don’t suppose you’d want to move up there with me?” He kept his tone light, but her annoyedtsktold him that even as a joke, it wasn’t something she’d consider. And he already knew that anyway. He’d thought maybe if she was still unhappy with the afternoon-drive shift, she might consider a city change. But now? Her work was here. Her life was here.
With a sharp motion, she brought the glass to her lips and drained it. “It’s not fair,” she said, her voice low and furious. “It’s a shitty situation, and it’s not fair.”
She turned her back to him to rinse the glass in the sink. “We’ll try the long-distance thing for a while, but it’ll never be the same. Three hours each way doesn’t seem like much now, but it’ll start adding up. We’ll end up visiting each other less and less, and then we’ll start talking less and less, and eventually everything will collapse.”
“It won’t.” His heart raced as he fumbled for the words to change her mind. “We’re stronger than that.”
“No. I was right all along.” She addressed her reflection in the window over the sink. “I should’ve followed my own rules.”
Her own rules? Her rules against relationships?
“Are you saying you regret us being together?” His voice swelled to fill the room, and when she didn’t answer, he walked around the island to stand in front of her, desperate to reach her. “It’s too late for that. I love you too much to just walk away.”
She shook her head and pressed a hand to her mouth, stopping whatever words might otherwise have tumbled out. His fingers twitched to smooth out the line between her eyes, but he was scared that if he touched her, she’d crumble.
She leaned against the sink, her eyes focused on some object just over his shoulder, and the longer he waited for her to speak, the heavier his heart sat in his chest. Why wasn’t she putting up a fight? Was she just going to shrug and let him walk away?
When she finally spoke again, it was to say in a hollow, remote voice, “It’s been a big day. I’m going to bed.”
She brushed past him, but he stayed rooted to the spot, unsure if she wanted him to follow.
Then she paused in the doorway and looked back. “You coming?”
He nodded and walked with her to the bedroom, where they undressed in silence and made love with an intensity that felt like goodbye.
When he woke up the next morning, she was already gone.
Packingup his apartment was too grand a description for what Jake actually had to do. He crammed his clothes and the contents of his bathroom cabinet into a duffel and zipped his suits into a garment bag, then stripped the soft sheets Mabel had gotten him for Christmas off the bed and stuffed them on top of one of the boxes with his files and books. And that represented the totality of his life in Beaucoeur. When he left, it would all fit neatly in his Jeep. All except his heart, of course, which rested in Mabel’s hands.
After he dropped his key with the property manager, he pointed his Jeep toward the radio station where he had a few more files to pack up. He was also hoping he’d find Mabel there, but just his luck, he found Brandon instead.
“So you’re actually leaving?”
Jake glanced up from the stack of paperwork he was sorting through. “Yeah. Of course. Have you got an extra banker’s box?”
Brandon didn’t answer, and Jake braced himself for whatever snideness he was about to be hit with.
But Brandon only shook his head. “I’m surprised. I mean, we both know you could’ve gone back to Chicago months ago if you’d really wanted to.”
Jake clenched his jaw but said nothing as Brandon crossed his arms and leaned against the door.
“I mean, have you ever wondered why I’m still in Beaucoeur when this place basically runs like a machine whether I’m here or not?”
“The sketchy midwestern sushi?” Jake asked tightly.
“That’s one reason,” Brandon said. “But mostly it’s because I’ve got nothing in Detroit to go home to. Empty house, angry ex, nightmare father.”
Had Jake been talking to any other human on Earth, he would’ve described Brandon’s tone as lonely, but that didn’t track with the guy he’d known for a decade.
“What’s your point?” he snapped.
“Me? I’m just enjoying some different scenery for a while. But you? You’ve got something to go home to.”
“Yeah. My partnership,” Jake said, intentionally misinterpreting what Brandon was getting at becausefuck, it hurt too much to open the door to anything else. “Don’t worry; I’ll stay on top of Lowell’s books no matter where I am.”
Brandon’s face fell. “Can’t say I didn’t try.” And in a blink, that flash of disappointment was gone, replaced by his usual smirk. “Well, no worries, Jakehammer. I’ll make sure to keep everybody so busy down here that they’ll barely know you’re gone.”
