“Besides the house?”
He nodded. “Besides the house.”
Chewing on her lip, she tried to remember the last time she’d been shopping. “We had an apartment after high school. Back then, I never thought much about debt. We financed our living room furniture. That was pretty expensive.”
“Did you pick it out?”
“Well, the one I wanted didn’t really go with the rest of our stuff. Nash really liked the red one on sale.”
“What color couch did you wind up purchasing?”
She swallowed. “Red.” But she loved that couch. It was theirs. She didn’t see it as his because they were a partnership. “It’s old now. There are stains on the cushions and feathers fall out of it all the time.”
“Something to think about.” He closed the cover of his book. “Perhaps using some of your saved money to make a small purchase—something for yourself—something that might bring you joy—might set some new habits into motion.”
“I don’t need anything.”
“It’s not about necessity. What do you want? Is there anything that would make you happy? We can learn a lot by choosing a gift for ourselves. It could be a revealing exercise.”
Having Nash back was the only thing that would make her happy. The resounding hopelessness of that wish cut her down. “I don’t want anything.”
“Everyone wants something.” He glanced at his watch. “Maybe think about that for the next few days. Progress comes when we identify what we want. Reflect on your current situation. Change can be frightening at times, but it’s also a powerful tool. Change represents growth, and growth brings closure. You’re in control, Maggie. Perhaps it’s time for you to decide how your future will look differently from the life you’re leading today. Decide what needs to change in order for you to find closure.”
Closure. What a terrifying word. Closure seemed too final. She wasn’t ready to close away her memories, because she wasn’t ready to let him go, and maybe she never would be.
She made an appointment for the following week, though she wasn’t sure she’d keep it. She got a lot of stuff off her chest but wasn’t sure if saying any of those terrible things out loud actually helped.
She wondered why she didn’t mention Ryan or the kiss or her drinking? Maybe there was just too much crap that came before those insignificant turns. But if they were insignificant, why did she keep thinking about them?
When she got home, she opened the fridge to grab a beer and stilled. Her hand hovered over the almost empty six-pack—one bottle left. It had been full yesterday. Then she remembered the empty bottle of whiskey in her trashcan out back.
If she was really going to give this healing thing a try, she needed to do it truthfully, and that meant being honest with herself.
“Time to dry out for a bit.” She shut the fridge.
The temptation to self-medicate remained, but she fought it off. The house seemed more silent than usual, every few minutes her thoughts returning to the fridge.
Frustrated with the frail condition of her will, she threw on her hat and left. Who said running away from problems didn’t work?
Chapter 11
Tristan entered Ryan’s office at the lumberyard with Luke following. “Hey, you working at the pub tonight?”
Ryan stretched at his desk, shoving away the invoices he’d been reviewing. “No, Aunt Col’s keepin’ an eye on things, and Sue’s got the bar.” And thank God for that. He was barely keeping himself upright after only an hour’s sleep last night.
“Good. Swing by our place when you’re finished up here. We’ve got something for you.”
His mood lifted. “For me?”
“Yeah. Stop by.”
Luke and Tristan lived in the renovated barn across from his Aunt Maureen and Uncle Frank’s log cabin on the top of what their family called McCullough Mountain, and directly next door to Sheilagh and Alec’s stone farmhouse.
Ryan envied the closeness his McCullough cousins shared. Everyone but Kelly and Ashlynn lived on the Mountain. Of course there were complaints of intrusiveness, and each couple learned the hard way to lock their doors. But when they needed company, it was never far.
He parked in front of the barn, and a sudden longing to turn back and drive home overwhelmed him. While his extended family was great, he’d gone to a bitter place over the last year, and sometimes their happiness was too much to take. He loved them dearly, but their good fortune had a way of shining a spotlight on all the empty parts of his own life.
With his brother Pat completing his residency in the city, things had been lonely. Pat, though younger, had always been there, so Ryan never felt like a third wheel, or in the case of all his now married cousins, a fifteenth wheel.
He was used to being the single one. A few years ago everyone stopped adding a guest option to his invitations. It was just sort of accepted that he was the loner. And he didn’t mind being unaccompanied—most days.