"Then it's a good thing I'm no longer employed here." I opened the door. "My resignation letter will be in your emailwithin the hour. Consider this my notice that I won't be returning."
"You're making a mistake."
"The only mistake I made was staying here as long as I did."
I walked out of his office for the last time and was finally free.
MY APARTMENT FELT LIKEa museum of someone else's life. The conservative cardigans hanging in the closet, the carefully organized books, the furniture I'd bought because it was practical and affordable and took up minimal space.
Six years of making myself fit into a life I never wanted.
I called my landlord first. Explained I was breaking the lease, offered to pay whatever penalties existed. He was surprisingly understanding, and said he'd start showing the apartment next week.
Then I called a shipping company. The couch, the desk, the bed, most of the clothes, I'd leave for the subletter or donate. But my research, my grandmother's quilt, my personal books, those needed to come with me.
The woman on the phone was patient while I gave her Neil's address, spelling out Burke Mountain Road twice to make sure she had it right.
"And you're sure about the delivery address? It's pretty remote."
"I'm sure."
After I hung up, I stared at my phone for a long moment before calling the number I'd been avoiding all day. Neil didn’t pick up.
I left a message anyway.
"I quit my job. I'm packing up my apartment. I'm coming back to Vermont." The words tumbled out faster than Iintended. "I made a mistake leaving. I know I did. And I don't know if you will even want to see me after what I did, but I'm coming back anyway because I can't not come back.”
THE TRAIN LEFT BOSTONat nine the next morning. I watched the city disappear behind me and tried not to think about all the ways this could go wrong.
What if Neil didn't want me back? What if I'd broken something that couldn't be fixed? What if three days really wasn't enough to build a life on?
But the alternative was staying in Boston, accepting Pemberton's erasure, going back to being invisible. And I'd rather risk everything for a chance at being seen than spend the rest of my life being unhappy.
The train ride took four hours. The bus from Burlington took another two. By the time I got to Burke, it was after seven in the evening, and the small station was empty.
And Neil's cabin was at least ten miles up a mountain road that I had no way of reaching.
I sat on the bench and tried not to panic.
I'd quit my job, broken my lease, packed up my entire life, and traveled six hours to get here. And now I was stranded at a bus station in the dark. Before I could panic, a big shadow stepped out from the side of the building.
"Neil?" I gasped.
He stood there for a moment, just looking at me. Even in the dim light from the station, I could see the exhaustion on his face. The pain. The fear.
"Hi," I said, because sometimes the simplest words are all you have.
"You came back."
"I came back."
He moved closer, still keeping distance between us. Like he wasn't sure if I was real or if I'd disappear again.
"I hurt you," I said. "I know I did. I left when you needed me to stay. I proved every fear you've ever had about yourself."
"You did."
The blunt admission stung, but I deserved it.
