Page 156 of A Love Letter to Whiskey
“So this time, I’m putting it out there,” I said. “I’m letting you know what I want. I want you. I want you to move back, hell, to move in.” I laughed, something between insanity and love flowing through me like a tidal wave. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. We can do this, B.”
“I’m staying.”
“Jenna’s here, too. And your mom. And—”
“Jamie, I’m staying in Pittsburgh,” she said louder. “They offered me a full-time job. Today.”
I paused at the top of a breath, the air filling my lungs, until what felt like a needle prick had me deflating like a helium balloon. I sank in on myself, frowning, sure I didn’t hear her right.
She was staying.
She got a job.
She was staying.
“Okay,” I finally said. “That’s okay. We can see each other once a month, take turns flying, and eventually we’ll figure it out.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” B said, her voice breaking a bit.
My heart cracked.
“You have your dad’s firm there. And I have my life here.”
I swallowed against the emotion threatening to suffocate me. “That doesn’t mean we can’t have a life together, too.”
I wished I could see her, then. I wished I was right there in her apartment with her, holding her, looking into her eyes when I told her I believed in us.
“But it kind of does, Jamie,” she said after a moment. “It all sounds so easy when you say it over the phone, but a long-distance relationship is hard. It’s complicated and messy, and neither of us needs that right now, not when we’re both just getting started in our careers. It’s just not the right time for us… it’s never the right time.”
I shook my head, over and over, disbelief strangling me. How could she push me away like this? How could she ignore everything I was saying, dig her heels in so deep on the fact that we couldn’t make it long distance without even trying?
“That’s not fair. You don’t understand this, B — any of it,” I said. “When you left Alder, you got to leave it all behind — the places we went, the memories we made. But I lived there. Without you. For three years.” I paused, my chest heaving. “And then, when I found you again, everything seemed right. The timing, the way we both felt. I finally got an answer from you, why you stayed away all those years, and I got it, B — I really did. I understood. You were broken from your father’s death and you needed time and space. I gave that to you. Happily. I didn’t know if I’d ever have you again, but I didn’t care because I knew what you needed from me.”
Tears welled in my eyes, my nose flaring at the memory of what it felt like to think I’d lost her forever.
I didn’t know if I’d survive that again.
“But now, you’re telling me it’s still not there — it’s still not the right time. You couldn’t be with me when you were broken, and now that you’re standing on your own, you still can’t be with me. So if I can’t have you at your worst, and I can’t have you at your best, then when do I get you, B? When does the timing line up for you to stop fighting what we have between us and just let me in?”
B let out a sob at that, and it damn near broke me, because I hated that I was hurting her. But goddamnit, she’d been hurting me. And I couldn’t take it anymore.
“What happened to one day?” she asked softly.
I swallowed. “Well, I need one day right now.”
“And I can’t give it to you, so where does that leave us?”
I chewed my cheek, shaking my head, not willing to admit it yet. “I don’t know.”
B was silent for a long while, the truth of it all sitting between us like a bomb ready to explode.
“Listen, I have a really big event coming up and tomorrow is going to be a long day…”
I closed my eyes at the sorry excuse, letting one cooling breath flow through me.
This is it, I thought. This is the end.
“Yeah, okay.” I let out a breath, and my heart clamored in my chest, begging me to try one more time. “I just…”
But I stopped there because what else could I say?
“Goodnight, B,” I said, instead.
When she ended the call, I dropped to my knees, and I cried.
• • •
I let her go after that.
It killed me to do it, but it killed me even more to try to hold onto someone who wasn’t holding onto me.
The first few weeks were the worst. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t keep myself from pulling up her number and staring at it. I never gave in, though. I never called.
