Page 138 of Happy After All

“A real tragedy.”

“Right? I’m no fun. No. Just keep being my friend. Because this is where I actually change instead of reverting to type. This is where I actually find peace, dammit.”

Except really I’m sad. I contain multitudes in this new world, apparently.

The ability to be happy and sad and new all at once. “Don’t let me fold in on myself,” I say as we exit the coffee place.

“I won’t,” she says. “You live close. I’ll come for you if you start to fall apart.”

“Thank you.”

I drive back to the motel, and it’s nearly time for checkout, so it’s time for me to get behind the desk. I open my Word document, and then I open a new one. I’m going to finish my book on time, heartbreak notwithstanding.

I have a new idea. A different one. One thing I don’t want is to contract in on myself after this, as tempting as it is. I’m still going to write about love, because I still believe in it. Because I still feel like that’s what he and I had.

I’m going to try something new. This is addicting. Taking risks. Putting myself out there. Suddenly I feel like everything inside me is worth it. Really, truly worth it. I am owed recognition. What I’moffering the world matters. What I was offering to him matters, whether he realizes it or not.

I sniff loudly into the silence of the reception area, and I tell myself that I’m not on the verge of tears.

I check out a wave of guests and prepare for the lull. Christmas is in two days, and for the most part, people don’t check in this close to Christmas. I look out at this room that has given me so much joy. It still does. Because it’s mine.

The door opens, and I look up. For a moment I think I might be hallucinating. There is no way Nathan Hart just walked into the lobby.

That’s when I realize.

I thought it was the end, but it wasn’t.

Because it wasn’t happy.

Chapter Thirty-Three

“God,” he says, the word coming out as a curse and a prayer.

He pushes his hands through his hair, and I can tell he hasn’t slept since last night.

“What are you ...? What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I got however many hours down the freeway and turned around and came back. Because I can’t ... This is stupid, by the way,” he says.

“What?You?I agree that you’re a little bit stupid.”

“No. This. I don’t want to be in love with you.”

“Great. Thank you.”

“No. You don’t understand. It hurts. Too much, Amelia.” He puts his hand on his chest like it hurts right now. “I was never supposed to have to feel this again. I was never supposed to want something this bad, or to hope this much. But you were there. The minute I checked in that first year, you were there, and I knew you were dangerous, and I should have listened to that feeling. You were dangerous, and I couldn’t ...”

He shakes his head. “Sarah is dead. If I never checked into the motel again, she would never have known. She couldn’t ... she couldn’t make me. You made me. You made me keep coming back. Every year I walked the tightrope between wanting to hang on to how badly it hurt to have my wife be gone, and how much I wanted to see you, and I strung all of it out ... all of it. I let it get tangled around itself. Until Icould hardly make sense of it. Dammit. Amelia. After last summer ... I wanted it to be over. I wanted it to be over because I couldn’t keep coming to see you. So I came back, for one last time, and I thought if we fucked, great. I could get it out of my system. But I didn’t. You are in my blood. You are in my breath. You’re in my heart, and that is the most unforgivable part.”

“Nathan . . .”

“Every year, I would see you, and I could feel that there was a sadness about you. I could feel that there was something in you that was like me, but you weren’t ... you weren’t dark. I wanted that.”

“Well, you were. Intense, and terrifying, and I wanted you in spite of myself. Even though I knew full well that I couldn’t afford to take on a project. I did not want you to be my project. I agreed with you. That maybe the sex was inevitable. It wasn’t supposed to be this for me either. You think I’m any happier about it?”

“I thought that if I ... I thought that if I said that there was a love of my life, it meant I wouldn’t have to do it again.”

“Is it so bad? Loving someone?”

---