Page 97 of Summer After Summer

“Are you going to go on tour?”

“I can’t afford school.”

“So you’d rather quit than be with me?”

“No, I … I have plans, Fred. A path. I need to follow it. I’m twenty-one. My mom is right. I’m at the beginning of my life. And I want to walk through life with you—I do—but I’m too young to get married. You’re older than me, you’ve seen things in the military I can’t even imagine, and maybe for you it’s the right time, but not for me. But I want to do it with you. I want to figure this out. Can’t we?” I slip from the bench and crouch in front of him. “I do want to be with you. I love you. Please believe that.”

He shakes his head slowly. “I don’t want to do it this way.”

“What way?”

“Full of uncertainty.” He grips my arms, almost too tight, his eyes wet. “Because I’m certain. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. But you’re not, are you?”

Every fiber of my being wants to tell him what he wants to hear, to erase the terrible expression off his face, to make everything back to like it was last night when we were giddy with happiness, and everything seemed perfect. But he’s right, I’m not certain, and I can’t lie to him even if I wanted to.

“I just want us to take some time to figure this out.”

“I can’t do that.”

I don’t have the energy to ask why. I know why in my bones. Because he doesn’t want to be with me if I’m not one hundred percent sure that I feel the same way as he does.

Which means that this is the end of us. Again.

“So, we’re over?”

“I don’t know, Olivia. I’m trying to figure all this out, same as you.”

He’s saying this to give me hope, but I have none. I’ve heard this tone before, I’ve felt this ache in my heart, and I know. Five years later wasn’t enough time for us to be the right time.

“You know what you want. You’re just afraid to say it.”

I rub my hand across his cheek and feel a tear fall against it. My own tears are wet on my face. And my god, my god, this hurts. It hurts so fucking much.

I thought things were bad before, the last time, but that was nothing compared to this.

Fred leans down and his lips touch mine, and in an instant, we’re wrapped up together.

He pulls me into his lap, and I curl myself around him, hoping that if I get close enough, if there’s nothing between us but skin, then maybe all of this will end up differently.

We make love ferociously and more tenderly than ever before. We make love like it’s the end of the world, and it is the end—it’s the end of us.

Because when we’re done, he gathers me close and wraps us in an old musty blanket. I try to keep myself from falling asleep because I’m sure that when I wake, I’ll be alone.

But I can’t keep my eyes open, I’ve been through too much today, and sometime in the night, Fred slips away, and when I wake up in the morning he’s gone.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

July 2023

When I get back from tennis the morning after the dinner at the club, Wes is at the house for breakfast.

I couldn’t help looking for him this morning out on the court. I thought he might do what Fred has done and watch me, though Fred was absent today as well. When I didn’t see Wes on the sidelines, I wondered what part of the club he’d been placed in. Had they put him in a room near Fred, or on the other side of the building?

I both didn’t want anyone to know about my personal drama and expected them to rearrange their guests to please me. I was ridiculous.

And then here he is, in the kitchen with Aunt Tracy, teasing her, asking for his special egg-white omelet, which she usually refuses to make, but seems to be fluffing in the pan in front of her. Is this a signal? Does she think I should save my marriage?

“Hi,” I say, hanging back in the doorway, unsure if I want to disturb them.

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