Page 69 of Return To You

“Because I’ll be volunteered to pick up trash at the park, that’s why.”

“Ah, I see. The whole don’t raise a problem if you don’t have a solution approach.”

I nod. “Still going strong here.”

“Mm,” he says softly, as if looking for a segue to the-conversation-he-wants-to-have.

"So—what made you change your mind?” he asks in a low voice.

“About what?”

“An hour ago you couldn’t look me in the eye. Now you’re taking a walk with me under the moonlight. It better not be the veggies.”

“It was totally the veggies.”

He chuckles. “Ouch. So—anyone puts a pretty plate in front of you, you go for a walk in the night with them?”

“If they’re attractive and kind and make me feel safe, why not?” Oh god why did I just say all this? It looks like I’m hitting on him.

He stays silent while I quell the tears threatening to choke me. I’ve had this little talk with myself earlier, and I’m secure in my decision. I think. “It wasn’t the veggies. I realized I was holding onto the past. That’s why I was upset with you. And that’s no way to live. I’m over all this. I really am. I won’t let the past bog me down. Letting the past define your future is a foolproof way to being miserable your whole life. And I’ve decided to be happy.”

By now we’ve reached a road that runs alongside the river. The moonlight is bright enough to light our footsteps and draw our shadows out. A few more steps and we’ll be at the covered bridge, and my heart stutters. Ethan won’t remember, but this is where he kissed me, two years after the disaster in the church basement. Where he told me things too beautiful to ever forget.

Where we really began being us. At least for me.

Our steps echo inside the wooden structure, and I instinctively move farther from Ethan, as if I can’t trust myself in this place, in his presence.

I’ve been known to be impulsive, especially where Ethan is concerned. I’ve managed to keep a handle on myself until now. I’d like to keep it that way.

We exit on the country side of the bridge, and Ethan takes a deep breath, as if he’d been holding it in too. He walks up the hill a bit, then turns around and takes it all in. The village at our feet, softly glowing in the golden hue of the streetlights. The resort way beyond, reflected on the still surface of the lake. Farms dotting the landscape, the large shape of their barns looming dark against the moonlit fields.

“Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?” I finally ask Ethan.

“I uh—yeah. I wanted to know why you kept all the mementos of us, when clearly… you know. There’s nothing between us or-or-or rather, you didn’t want to talk to me. Plus what you just said about not holding onto the past. Doesn’t really all make sense to me.”

I huff, grateful that the semi-darkness hides the tears lining my eyes. “Well… I’d argue that it’s really my own business, what I choose to safekeep.” My words are so low, he may not have heard me. Is this really the conversation I was dreading so much?

He clears his throat. “The tree…”

My heartbeat picks up. I retreat toward the village, and he falls in step next to me. “The tree?”

“When was it hit by lightning?”

How does he know that? I can barely hear myself breathe, the blood in my ears wooshes so strongly. I clench my middle with my folded arms in a piss-poor attempt at comfort. Every nerve in my body is ready to snap. How can I be so sensitive to all of this?

“Grace? You okay?” His hand on my shoulder blades jolts me and warms me at the same time. I want him to leave his hand here, and I want him to go away at the same time. “You’re shaking.”

I hasten my steps, but he merely takes longer strides. As we reach the covered bridge, I trip on an uneven plank. Ethan catches me, one hand under my folded arms. “Hey-hey-hey.”

“It’s this stupid bridge.” I pretend to laugh. “I’m okay.” I try to walk away from him, but his hand trails down my forearm, catches my fingers, and doesn’t let go as he stops abruptly.

“I’m not okay.” He tugs on my hand, forcing me to face him. “I’ve been struggling all day trying to figure out what to tell you, and I’m at a loss. You said we were over, we were nearly nothing, and I was going to respect that, even if that’s not how I feel, and then this morning… this morning I find out I’m not nothing to you. I’ve never been nothin’ to you. Just like you’ve never been nothin’ to me, Grace. You’ve always been everythin’ to me, and I need you to know that.”

What is he saying? My heart seems to try to escape through my throat. What he’s saying doesn’t make sense. “Why did you stay away for so long?”

He contemplates our fingers still loosely joined. The corner of his mouth dips, and he briefly shuts his eyes. “It was stupid. I was stupid. I… I didn’t feel wanted here anymore.” He drops my hand and takes a few steps to the edge of the bridge, leaning over the thick wooden railing, his gaze lost somewhere on the dark river below us. “I know it wasn’t true, at least as far as my family was concerned.”

His voice is so low, I can barely hear him, so I close the gap between us, and, turning my back to the river, I lean my elbows back on the railing, almost facing him. “It took me a while to understand it,” he continues. “To understand that just because I hadn’t prevented Justin’s accident, my presence wasn’t going to be a constant reminder of it. But by that time, I found I was more useful in the service than here, so there was that. It’s not something I deal well with—not being of service. Not being useful, wherever I am. And then ...”

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