Page 20 of Choosing the right Man

“I’m right here, Chloe. I’ll always be right here,” he says, the words coming out as a promise. I can’t turn around and look at him. I’m too afraid of what I’ll do.

“I can’t be with you,” I say. Am I trying to convince him, or am I trying to convince myself? I’m not sure.

“You will be. I have no doubt,” he says. The confidence that turns me on is back in his voice. I’m too afraid he’s right to argue. Instead, I slip away like the coward I am.

I quickly throw my sweats and sweatshirt on, and leave the building, deciding to forgo the shower with him so close by and both of us this needy. I take the stairs. I’ve punished my legs enough, but I’m afraid to try the elevator. If I run into Mason again, I don’t think I’ll have the strength to keep saying no. After a three-day weekend, I’ll be stronger. But tonight, I’m certainly not strong enough.

I don’t see him as I leave, and luckily, I don’t have to wait long for the bus. On the ride home I’m consumed with guilt. I cheated on my boyfriend. It may have stopped with a kiss, but that’s still cheating. It doesn’t matter that Paul hasn’t kissed me, barely made love to me, or given me attention. I still cheated.

I should go home and tell my boyfriend it’s over, that things aren’t working out between us. But as I get off the bus and walk to my house, I decide not to do this. I don’t know why. I wish I was sixteen again, wish I could take back my innocence, my bravery, wish I could take back myself. I’ve made so many mistakes in my adult life. Will I be forgiven?

The bus arrives a block from my home, and I hop off. I walk slowly, even though the rain hasn’t let up. I’m not ready to go inside, to face the domestic world I’m not sure I want anymore. Tears burn my eyes as I approach the perfectly suitable grey house. It’s adorable. I was so excited to own my first home. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without Paul.

But the excitement and zest for life we both had when we arrived in Portland seems to be gone. Both of us live our days exactly the same, mellow... boring. Is it Paul who’s changed, or is it me? Maybe we both have, and maybe neither of us wants to admit it. The front door is unlocked. I have little choice but to turn the knob and step inside.

I should’ve done more of a workout. The desire is still inside me, making me jumpy, achy, and unbearably lonely. I don’t know what I want. Should I flee? Should I give up the life I thought I’d always want? Will I have regrets if I do? Where will I go?

As much as I don’t want the next thought to come to mind, that’s exactly what does: if Paul and I were over, I’d run right back to Mason and take him up on that drink... and that look in his eyes.

Instead, I hang my head and open my front door. I’m responsible. I’ll do what I have to do. The house is dark with no sign of Paul. Without realizing it’s happening, tears fall from my eyes as I make my way to our bedroom. I sit on the bed and let go, crying out all of my frustrations.

Paul never comes to me. I sit alone. I’m glad he’s nowhere to be found. I can’t face him after what I’ve done. I don’t try to call him. And I don’t wonder where he is. I get up and head into the bathroom and shower for a very long time.

There’s still no sign of Paul. He doesn’t hear me anymore, doesn’t know when I need him. To be fair, I don’t hear him either. We’re strangers... ghosts sharing a home, not a life. I weep some more.

I don’t sleep much this night, and my boyfriend never joins me. We’re over, we both need to accept it and let each other go. What then, though? Do I jump from the pan into the fire? I don’t know.

Chapter Fifteen

Chloe

Paul still isn’t home when I wake in the morning. The sad thing is, I’m not concerned, not worried he might be dead in a ditch, and not afraid of him being in the arms of another woman. This is sadder than I imagined.

I make an impulsive decision to visit my dad. In the hardest times of my life, hearing the deep timbre of my father’s voice can calm the storm raging inside me in a single heartbeat. His presence can make all of my worries disappear. I need my father.

I quickly pack a bag and then leave my house within fifteen minutes. I don’t bother making coffee first; instead, I choose to stop at a coffee house to take it with me. Once it’s in my vehicle I press my foot against the pedal of my rarely used car and make my way out of the bustling city of Portland, feeling some stress disappear as soon as the busy freeways are behind me, the coast not far away. I’m excited to see my dad, who I haven’t visited in months, which is unacceptable. I love my father. He’s always been my favorite person on this planet, someone I’ve always been able to count on.

I’ve never had to share my dad with anyone... well, anyone other than family. Since I was a child, I’ve never seen him with awoman. I’m not sure how well I’d handle that, which makes me selfish. I should want him to have a true love, someone to keep him warm at night. But the thought of not being his number one crushes my soul. I’d love to be happy for him to have a partner as everyone deserves to have a happy relationship, but all I’d feel is jealousy. Maybe I have more problems than I’m willing to admit.

I assure myself I’m not selfish, that my father always promises me he’s not lonely, he lives a full and rich life on his own. I want to believe he feels this way, but I guess part of the reason I stay with Paul is my fear of being alone. It seems so unbearable to enter an empty house every single night. Fear causes all of us to make terrible decisions. Maybe I’m continuing to make mine.

I make it to my father’s place in less than two hours. The instant smile that replaces my frown takes away all of my worries and concerns about my relationship with Paul, my feelings for Mason, and my stress about what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. That’s how it is every time I come to see my dad. He truly is my shelter in a storm.

Before I leave my vehicle my dad steps onto his front porch and grins. I barrel out of the car as if I’m a little girl once again, and run straight into his wide-open arms, instantly feeling loved and secure. This is the safest place in the world.

“I’ve missed you, Dad,” I say, gratefully inhaling his woodsy scent.

“I always miss you, baby girl,” he replies in his deep, gruff voice. “Come have some coffee with me while we enjoy seeing the forest come to life.”

I reluctantly let him go and follow him inside the small cabin. His home always brings me comfort. There are only three rooms, one of which is a tiny bedroom some people would classify as a closet. It only has room for the mattress he refuses to get a bed frame for because he thinks it’s better for his back to bedirectly on the floor. He has no door on his tiny closet, but he doesn’t own a lot of clothes, just his favorite flannels and waterproof pants for walking in the woods. He always has nice boots because I buy him a new pair every Christmas. This place was made just for him.

The living room and kitchen combo is small and efficient with a loveseat, a comfy easy chair, and a small table with two wooden chairs. He also has a two-burner gas stove and a small refrigerator. He doesn’t have a microwave because he truly is a simple man... one of the things I find the most comfort in. Most of us go through life trying to get more and more, but not my dad. He loves big and lives free. I wish I could be as happy as he is living this way.

I watch as he brews coffee, and then we take our cups outside and sit on the most comfortable furniture in this place: two plush chairs I gave him for his birthday for the small deck we built together.

This deck is my favorite place on his property, and I want him to enjoy sitting here for hours without hurting his back. I curl my feet under me as I lean back with my cup in my hands and look into the woods, enjoying the sounds of critters beginning their day.

“Have you had any cougar sightings?” I ask with a shiver.

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