She looks down at our joined hands and then lifts her head, eyes brimming with fresh tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
One second, I was floating through the sky, feeling the rush of adrenaline. And then the next second, my parachute didn’t open, and I hit the ground, my heart breaking into a million little pieces.
I let go of her fingers and take a step back, tears taking over my vision.
“Caleb, I’m so sorry,” she whispers again.
“It’s okay.” I blink, sending moisture trickling down my face. I try smiling even though the action betrays the heartache crushing my chest. “I had to try, right?”
“I don’t know—”
“You don’t have to say anything.” I wipe my cheeks, trying to regain a shred of manliness. We stare at each other, snowflakes falling around us, melting on tear-stained cheeks. This is the end of the road for me and Summer. I know I need to walk away. But how do you walk away from the woman you love?
You just do it.
Because you don’t have any other choice.
I nod once—the only goodbye I can muster.
Then I turn and leave.
SUMMER
* * *
The versionof Summer that eats an entire pan of brownies has returned.
And I changed into sweats—a must for any woman who is sad and eating her feelings.
My apartment is dark, except for the low glow of Christmas lights strung around my tree and hanging across my ceiling. I have Kenny G’sMiraclesChristmas album softly playing in the background. It sets the mood—kind of. There’s not a Christmas album out there that could entirely capture my sadness, confusion, hurt, aching, and pain.
Two hard knocks on my door cause me to jump.
My heart explodes with a nervous excitement I can’t explain.
It’s almost like I’m hoping it isCaleb and hoping that my answer will be different this time.
I fling open the door.
It’s the other Davidson brother.
Justin stands before me in Caleb’s clothes, and I don’t know what happens, but I lose it. Tears pour out of me like it’s Niagara Falls.
“I’m sorry, babe.” He opens his arms, and I fall into his chest, sobbing against the smell of Caleb’s shirt. I soak in the scent, wishing I was a sponge that could hold it forever.
Justin brushes his hand over my hair and gently helps me to the couch.
“Shh. It’s all going to be okay.” He drags me down so I’m leaning against him, cradled in his arms. I cry like that until I fall asleep, until I’m no longer able to feel the weight of sadness that saying goodbye to Caleb caused.
thirty-seven
SUMMER
I didn’t tellJustin about Caleb’s love confession the other night or tell him that was the real reason I sobbed for hours in his arms. Justin thought it was about him letting me down, and I didn’t feel it necessary to drive a wedge between the relationship. So I let it go. I don’t care.
That’s been my motto this last week since my dad’s birthday party.
I don’t care, because caring about things I can’t control got me into this mess where I feel confused and sick to my stomach all the time. So, I’m trying something new.
