And that’s the dangerous part. Because knowing that there’s another way to live makes this way so much harder to swallow.
I could have asked her to stay. I could have told her what our short time together meant to me.
Those thoughts come to me more than I want to admit. Every single day for six weeks, I’ve replayed the morning she left andthe way I’d all but pushed her out the front door. I’d purposely turned away from her, not wanting to face her because I was terrified that if I looked in her eyes, I’d drag her to me right there in the middle of the cabin, in front of her father, and tell her how much I didn’t want her to leave.
And I couldn’t do that to her.
She’s young, with her whole life in front of her. Plans she hasn’t figured out yet. Experiences she hasn’t had and places she hasn’t seen. I’m not going to be the reason she shrinks herself to fit inside these walls with a grumpy old mountain man. I won’t stand in the way of her future, just because she feels like mine.
I didn’t have a choice but to let her go. Toforceher to go.
Even if every instinct I had wanted me to lock the door and keep her forever.
I run my hand along the board I’ve been trying to turn into something, forcing myself back into the present. Dwelling on what was and what could have been isn’t going to change anything.
The wood and the work never fail to ground me.
Correction. Itusedto ground me. Now, the rhythm of the sanding, the smell of thesawdust, the focus it takes to measure twice and cut once—all of it should be able to quiet my mind.
Not anymore.
I haven’t finished a piece since she left. Hell, I can hardly spend time in my shop anymore without memories of us together knocking me off-kilter.
With a growl of frustration, I slide the board back onto the workbench and click off the lights. There’s no point in staying out here. I’m not going to get any work done.
Reflexively, I check my cell phone. I don’t expect her to call. Not really. After all, we never even exchanged phone numbers. Still…
There’s a missed call from Luke.
Another one.
I know he needs help with some trees on the edge of his property. It’s something we all help each other with from time to time. It shouldn’t be a big deal. But I can’t face him. I can barely even hear his voice without a wild rush of feelings. He reminds me of her, but also of my betrayal of our friendship.
He called once after Tessa left to thank me again for taking care of her and told me she’d set out on her travels. He mentionedshe was having fun, meeting people, and figuring things out.
I did my best to keep my voice level, but I didn’t ask any follow-up questions.
I stop on the porch before heading inside. The sun sinks low behind the trees, and I stand there until it’s faded away completely, just the way I have a thousand times before. Tonight, it feels less like peace and more like I’m letting something slip away.
Another day without her is done.
I don’t move until the last of the light disappears and the shadows settle around me, trying to convince myself I did the right thing.
Trying to tell myself that wanting her wasn’t enough to ask her to stay.
Chapter Sixteen
Holt
The axe comes down clean, splitting the log in half. The crack echoes through the woods.
It’s the only thing that’s helped recently. The only thing I can focus on long enough to push thoughts of Tessa from my head.
Split. Stack. Repeat.
As long as it takes.
The pile along the walls of the woodshed is higher than it’s ever been. Higher than needed, and it’s not even fall yet. I’m not only set for the winter, but probably the one after that, too.
