Page 104 of A Not So Merry Rescue
My emotions are all over the place. I want to be upset with him, but I’m not sure I can. Nor does it matter. Regardless of why he did it, I’m leaving today. Now.
“I have to go.” I push the words from my mouth, but as I say them, they’re not the truth. I don’thaveto go. What’s waiting at home for me? Nothing that can’t be accomplished here.
“I know. And this time, I won’t keep you here. Not even for selfish reasons. Not even because I fell for you harder than when I told you I couldn’t fix your car without a new part. Not even to see what could develop between us. Your life is there, mine is here. We’d never work, anyway.”
“Right,” I agree. “For all of those reasons, I need to go.”
I don’t consider telling him to ask me to stay. Because in the long run, I’ll only get hurt again if what I think this is doesn’t work out. I can’t put myself in that spot. I can’t expose my already battered heart to more heartache if either of us decides this won’t work. Better to cut ties now. I can get over a week of knowing Beckett.
I can do it.
Rather than draw out the inevitable, I fall into his arms, stealing more comfort than I should. If there’s one thing I can’t do right now is be selfless.
“Thanks for a great week, Beckett Nicholas. My world isforever changed by knowing you. I hope you find a woman who’s going to live up to your incredibly high standards, and she makes you happier than you could ever imagine.” I stop myself from saying:I wish it were me.As much as I wish it, it can’t be.
He cups my chin in his hands. “It’s been my pleasure, Willafred Gibson. My absolute pleasure. Go home, write all the books, and now and again, think of me, k?”
“Absolutely. Every time I watch a Hallmark movie, it’s only you I’ll think of.”
He leans down, pressing his lips to the top of my head. I hold back the dam of tears knowing it’s the last time he’ll ever do it. I have to be strong.
I give him a final squeeze, understanding I have to be the one to walk away.
After quick hugs to Shania and Autumn, I scramble to my car, my heart fracturing after just being sewn up, leaving behind a piece that will always belong to Beckett Nicholas.
30
beckett
NEW YEAR’SDAY
Six days ago, Willa walked away, leaving me brokenhearted and alone.
She sent a brusque text message letting me know she had arrived home safely. Three words.
Home. Thanks again
I wanted to do so much more than text back,Thanks for letting me know. You’re welcome,but I didn’t. I can’t let myself be pulled under her spell any more than I already am. She made her choice, and we both have to live with it.
It’s stupid to think she would have made a different choice. She didn’thavea different choice to make. I didn’t give her another option. To ask her to stay would have been asinine. She couldn’t stay. I don’t even know if she would have stayed. Or come back had she needed to go home and get some stuff and return.
Six days I’ve been miserable. I’ve tried to work her from my head—with physical labor at the shop and in the gym. No matterwhat I do, she won’t leave. Her memory’s here to stay for the foreseeable future, which makes it hard to move on.
Because that’s exactly what I need to do—move on. Let her go. Banish her from my life. Pretend we never met.
I don’t want the last one. Not even a little. As much as life sucks this week without her, not having met her would be worse. I loved the time we spent together, am glad I got to experience the week with her, help her get out of her funk. I wouldn’t trade the time with her for any amount of money in the world.
As if that’s an option.
“Uncle Beck! Are you even listening to me?” Shania’s face fills my hazy vision.
“Ever hear of personal space?” She steps back, and I chug the last half of my beer. “What do you want?” The question is laced with frustration. It’s not fair to take my bad mood out on her.
“Just wanted to show you my new sweatshirt. Jeez. Who set your Christmas tree on fire?”
Any other day, I’d commend her retort, but I’m not in the mood. Even more so when my eyes spy the image on her sweatshirt. The logo for Hidden Clues bookshop stares back at me. My stomach roils. I’d blame the beer, but it’s heartache.
“I like it.”
