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I can’t imagine anything that is worth this pain and I guess the only thing I can be happy about is I didn’t get myself in any farther with Van. I didn’t give him everything.
At least that’s what I’m telling myself.
I need to get it over. I can’t live in this place anymore. If I can just tell him, let him know I can’t do this, then I feel like I can close the door and remember who I was before two weeks ago. The Issi I built, the Issi I created in order to not be this girl sitting here now with cheeks wet and nose running, unable to put two thoughts together.
When my phone rings, I jump up, nearly knocking the chair backwards.
I snatch my phone up and see it’s Van.
Bile ticks at the back of my throat and there’s a noose that tightens around my neck. My heart lodges in my throat and I force myself to connect and accept the call.
“Hey.” The words come out flat and solid. “Thanks for calling back.”
So formal.
“Baby, what the hell? You can tell me what’s going on with work, I’m almost there.”
Fear shoots through me like a spear.
“No.” It’s all I can come up with.
“Yes. I’m driving from the airport now. I got an earlier flight. My damn phone died, my charger wouldn’t work so I had to stop and buy a new one or I would have called you as soon as we landed. Baby, I don’t care if I only get to see you work, see you come and go, and sleep. That’s enough for me.”
“No.” Again, I can’t seem to find the other words I need. I dig deep. “I have to tell you something. Please, don’t come. I can’t do this. I can’t.”
The words catch and the sobs I’ve been battling back for hours come out in a fury. I hear Van’s voice in the background, but the heaving of my chest and the sounds of my sorrow fill my ears.
When I catch a breath, I try to speak, but all I hear is Van’s voice.
“I’m almost there. I’m coming, baby. Just hold on.”
The next five minutes feel endless as I practice the words I need to say over and over in my head.
Van comes through the back door as I stand, shaking and trying to keep him from enveloping me in a hug that only has me sobbing into the rough canvas of his jacket.
The slight scent of diesel fuel he always carries from the rig sites only makes it worse, knowing from this day on, whenever I smell that it will bring back this pain — this longing for something I’ll never have.
“Baby, stop. What the fuck is going on?”
His hand is on the back of my head and one on the center of my back, snuggling me into him. I bring my hands up and press back, breaking his grip and taking a step away.
“Don’t make this harder. Please, I can’t do this. I can’t do us.”
“Sorry, baby, I’m not going to make it harder because I’m not willing to accept that. What the fuck happened?”
“I’m just not the kind of girl you need. One that can overlook things… I never wanted this. And it turned into exactly what—”
I can’t finish. I push him away and turn to the windows, spinning around when I get the kitchen table between us, just needing the space, the physical distance. I punch up the photo on my laptop and spin it around for him to see.
He looks down, a questioning squint in his eyes and he starts to speak, but I cut him off.
“That’s not all. I can’t be with you. There this,” I point to the laptop, “but there’s more. Work. There’s a conflict that if I’m associated with you, I’ll lose everything. My job. My reputation. It’s just another sign. This,” I flap my hand back and forth in the air, “can’t be. I can’t do it. I can’t, Van. So please, just go.”
Just then he sets down the carry on, and George’s head pops up and then she wiggles her way out and runs over to jump at my leg, yelping, and barking.
Van’s eyes are wide, disbelieving. He shrugs and points down at the laptop. “That picture? That’s my sister. Well, kind of. Her mom, Duska, was one of my dad’s many flings. When Duska died, Kara had nothing, nobody. She had a young daughter by a guy she just couldn’t be with, and I took her in. She runs my house, she stays there with her daughter and takes care of George when I can’t.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps the screen.
“You told me you didn’t have any brothers or sisters.”
“Hold on.” He grunts holding the phone up so I can see the screen.
