Page 45 of The Marrying Kind
“And I know if you really care about her, then you’ll want her to see that through.”
“I do,” I said, even though selfishly I didn’t want her to see it through. I wanted her to realize I was the best thing she could add to that bucket list of hers. But right now, I didn’t compare to the leaning tower of Pisa or running with bulls or whatever else she had on that list.
Mom set me up a table in the corner while she served a few customers. I picked apart a bagel like I was making a scientific dissection of it.
When my phone pinged, I felt my stomach flip, hoping it was Ella offering some sort of explanation or good-bye. But when I saw her name on my phone, I dreaded answering it. I didn’t want to hear whatever she had to say. I also didn’t care that I was being petty—my fucking heart hurt right now.
I glanced up as someone else walked through the door. Noah.Great.
“Hey, buddy,” he said in a singsong voice that should be reserved exclusively for talking to hurt children.
“’Sup,” I managed to grunt out.
“Ma said something about a bagel being murdered this morning. You’ve been very thorough.”
I ignored him as he sat across from me, and Mom brought him over a coffee.
“Are you still going to show me the new website design today?”
I glanced up at him. “Yeah. Sure.”
“It’s gonna be great. Remember how excited you were about it? It’s going to take us to the next level, bro.”
“It’ll be great,” I said in an uninterested tone. I appreciated what Noah was doing, but my mood wasn’t going to just shift on a dime.
“Hey, I’ve got an idea.” Noah paused to push a finger through my bagel pieces, clearing a little space in the center of the plate until I looked at him again. “We should go out tonight. Like old times. That hot bartender CJ has always had a thing for you. She’ll work Ella right out of your system.”
Noah might have a point, about focusing on work and letting go of my Ella hang-up, but it still felt too soon. Maybe I didn’t want to work Ella out of my system. Maybe part of me hoped she’d realize what we could have been and come back.
As if reading my thoughts, Noah said, “Sounds like she’s not coming back. I’m really sorry she didn’t stay. She was really cool, but another girl will come along. Maybe one who doesn’t have plans of traveling the world. Somewhere, there’s a girl out there who would have the sense to see what a fucking catch you are, to want to be part of our big crazy family, to want to move to our land and spend her days feeding chickens and harvesting honey and taste-testing our homemade beer. That girl exists. I just know it.”
Noah wasn’t wrong. I was sure plenty of women existed who’d want to settle down somewhere like this, but none of them were Ella.
“Yeah. You’re right.” I agreed because it was easier than arguing. Then I stood up and tossed away my trash. “Let’s get to work.”
Noah followed me out the door, and I got in his truck with him. Mine could sit here for a few hours while we reviewed the website back at home.
But work did little to distract me, and by the time dinner rolled around, I told Noah I’d be up in a few. It was time to read Ella’s text message. It had been nagging at me all day, leaving it unread like that.
Then again, maybe I should just leave it. Prove to myself I didn’t need to care about this girl. That’s what I decided to do, for about ten seconds, until I got to the door of the barn and paused as a second text chimed out.
When I pulled out my phone, I held my breath as I clicked open the messages. The first one from Ella read,I’m so sorry I left without saying good-bye. I’m not good at good-byes.
Who was good at good-byes? But I understood. I’d have wanted to kiss her all over and then feed her, and then I’d find ten more reasons why she couldn’t leave yet. Saying good-bye to her would have been excruciating. I saw that now.
The next message had just come through. It was a picture of Ella in front of the Grand Canyon. So, she’d made it.
Damn, she looked beautiful. She was even wearing her Kodiak Canyon sweatshirt. Her hair was up in a messy bun, anddammit, that woman looked utterly snuggable. Then I chuckled to myself, remembering that Noah was the one who had made up the term years ago—fuckable but also snuggly.
I couldn’t be a dick in my reply, so I steeled myself and texted back.Good-byes are the worst, so let’s not say them. You look more beautiful than that view, for the record. Be safe and keep in touch. I want to hear where you end up.
When I hitSEND, I started to worry I’d said too much, or said the wrong thing, but her reply came a second later and put me at ease.Of course. Thank you, Austen.
The whole exchange was positive, but that didn’t stop the sadness welling inside me.
Should I have offered to join her? Would she have let me tag along? Why was I so okay with my simple little life? Maybe I should have been more adventurous. She must have found me boring. She was probably laughing at the pathetic townie who fell in love with her.
Without another thought, I balled up my fist and smashed it into the wall, busting a hole right through the beadboard.
