Reaching into my pocket, I took out the letter. “I wrote you something while you were sleeping last night. I was wired because of all of the thoughts in my head. Read it after I leave, sometime tonight when you’re feeling lonely and sad.”
The paper crinkled as she clutched it to her chest. “Thank you. I will.”
I looked around one last time. “I’d better go. If I don’t force myself, I’ll never leave.”
Her eyes filled with tears again, but she nodded.
It killed me to see her this broken up, but she looked the way I felt inside. There was no easy way to do this.
She gripped my shirt as if to keep me from leaving. When she finally let go, I forced myself into the truck. If I waited for the moment when leaving felt right, it would never happen.
Heather hugged herself and backed up a couple of feet to watch me drive away.
I managed to start the truck but couldn’t put it into drive yet.
After I mustered the courage to shift into gear, I pressed down on the gas and started to drive away. From the rearview mirror, I could see her bury her head in her hands. That broke my heart. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t drive off and leave her crying in the driveway.
Rather than put the truck in reverse, I parked it on the side of the street and ran back toward her. She looked up in surprise as I lifted her into my arms and held her tightly.
This was what I’d been holding back in an attempt to avoid losing it. But escaping into my truck the way I had wasn’t right. I’d been trying to avoid this pain, but she needed this. I needed this. We needed to hold each other—for as long as necessary—one last time before I disappeared.CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE* * *HEATHER
SEVEN MONTHS LATERHeather,As I write this, I’m watching you sleep. You look so peaceful, and that’s very ironic because I know there’s a lot of confusion swirling around in that beautiful head of yours—mainly confusion about us, where things stand, what the future holds.
You’re probably wondering how I could possibly let you go after last night, how I could walk away from something that feels so incredibly right.
Please don’t mistake my leaving for uncertainty about you.
When I first came out here, it was to help you in any way I could. Because of my guilt, I felt I needed to atone for my past mistakes. But you have helped me more than I could ever help you. You helped me to see the good in myself, to see myself the way YOU see me. You brought me joy I wasn’t expecting. My life is happier with you in it.
At the same time, I recognize that I’m flawed. I made a lot of mistakes when it came to my marriage, and while I feel like I learned from them, I still can’t be one-hundred percent sure I would make the best long-term partner for you, that I wouldn’t fuck up again. Despite those fears, I want to try to be the type of man you deserve.
I want to give it a year.
You know how I feel about you getting to be on your own, with nothing holding you back. It’s a rite of passage and one I think you need to experience.
One year, Heather.
Go to Vermont. Conquer the fuck out of it. Enjoy your freedom. Focus on school. If after a year’s time, you still want to be with me and still feel the way you do today, I’ll be here. We’ll figure out a way to make it work—whatever it takes—whether long-distance or otherwise.
I don’t want you to feel you have to choose between me and the freedom you’ve damn well earned. This letter is me telling you if you want me to wait for you, I will.“What are you reading?”
I jumped.
My roommate, Ming, startled me. I hadn’t even noticed her standing in the doorway.
I carefully folded the piece of paper and placed it back in the drawer.
“Nothing.”
I’d pulled out the letter Noah had written me the night before he left New Hampshire because I was really missing him tonight. Occasionally, I liked to reread it and think back to the summer, to that time in his truck when we’d made love all night long. I would have given anything for just one night back at the lake, sitting on the porch and chatting with him under the moonlight like we used to.
I’d tried to call him tonight but got no answer. It was earlier than the time we normally spoke on the phone, so it didn’t surprise me that he hadn’t picked up. I’d had a long day and just wanted to hear his voice. His voice was everything now, since I hadn’t seen him in so long.