I walk swiftly to the front door and pull it open, intent on dealing with whoever this is quickly so I can get back to my Dad. But when I see the person standing there, having a beer with my father is the farthest thing from my mind.
Chapter two
Tawny
It takes all of my self-control not to drop the casserole dish in my hand and run. Mac’s here, in front of me, and judging by the shock on his face, he’s not exactly happy to see me.
“Ummm, hi. Sorry. I didn’t know you were here. I just…” my voice trails off and my eyes drop to the pan of chicken and wild rice casserole in my hands.
I thrust the dish into his hands, turn and walk swiftly back to my car, ignoring the burn of tears pooling in my eyes. After all this time, why am I crying over this man?
Because he’s the only person to hold my heart and he’s the only person to crush it into dust.
*Eleven years ago, late August*
My heart skips a beat when I see Mac, just like it always does. He’s dreamy, there’s no other way to say it. Tall, even as a teenager, muscles hardened and skin tanned by weekly football practices and a summer of working various construction jobs with his dad. Green eyes that seem like they’re lit from within, with a fire that burns just for me, and that smile. My smile. I shiver when he does that, because that smile means he’s picturing me naked.
Mac was the first boy to touch me and I want him to be the last. It’s Wednesday, so we’re meeting at the base of West Mountain like we do every Wednesday. Our parents think we go for a hike and if they suspect there’s anything more to our relationship than just friendship, they don’t bring it up. The truth is, Mac is more than my secret boyfriend. He’s my everything and I can’t imagine life without him in it. And on Wednesday’s, we do hike sometimes, but mostly we just drive to the North end of the island and find a private place to park Mac’s truck. Today we’re hiking and Mac said he wanted to talk to me. I’m excited, because part of me thinks he might ask me to marry him. We haven’t talked about our future and I know we’re young, just eighteen, but I love him. And I always will.
“Hey, Tawny,” he grins as he takes my hand. I look at him with an answering smile. We walk in silence for a little while and I’m content to just be here with him. But after a while, my curiosity gets the best of me.
“What did you want to talk about?” I try to adopt a casual tone.
Mac doesn’t answer right away, but I can sense him stiffen. That confuses me. He pulls me over to a log on the side of the path that is on its side, making a convenient bench. Once we sit down, he lets go of my hand and clasps his together in front of him. This isn’t good, I can feel my heart sinking, even though I can’t begin to imagine why.
“Mac…what’s wrong? You’re scaring me,” I whisper. When he turns to me, the anguish in his eyes makes me gasp.
“T, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to tell you this, it fucking sucks, and it’s also amazing at the same time.” He jumps up and starts pacing in front of me, taking his ball cap off and putting it back on over and over, a sure sign he’s nervous. “And we’ll be okay, I know we will. But still, to not be with you every day is gonna be so hard.”
“What are you talking about?” I interrupt, confused and worried about what I think he’s going to tell me.
“I got accepted to Texas State on a football scholarship.”
My heart stops beating for a minute. A football scholarship is what Mac has hoped for, but Texas is so far away.
“That’s great, Mac. I know this is what you’ve dreamt of,” I say quietly.
“I thought we’d be closer together.” His voice is taut with worry, and I smile to try and soothe him.
“I did, too. But we’ll be okay.”
And that, as they say, was the beginning of our end. Long distance is hard enough, but when your relationship is also a secret from your family and friends, it’s damn near impossible. We tried, but only communicating through emails and phone calls suck. Still, I think we could have survived it and moved ahead with our plan to move in together once we both finished college if it weren’t forthepicture.
I can’t blame our mutual friend Sara for showing it to me. Her cousin Riley was at school with Mac and must have sent Sara some photos of their time at college and she figured I would want to see my friend. She had no idea that seeing a picture of Mac smiling with his arm around some other girl at a party would rip me in two, but it did. And when you put that photo in context of our already struggling relationship, well, it felt like the ultimate betrayal. It was the final wedge between us.
The next week, before we had even had a chance to talk about things, the unthinkable happened. My parents both died in a car accident on the mainland. Mac tried to call me, but I couldn’t handle it, not then. So, I ignored his calls and messages. And when Rory Montgomery put his arm around me at the funeral, I let myself be comforted by him, even though Mac was standing at the edge of the crowd, looking at me with such pain and anger in his eyes.
I wasn’t given a moment alone that week and my anguish over my parents and childish hurt over Mac’s actions led me to block his number on my phone and avoid him in every situation. If my actions seemed strange to anyone, they chalked it up to grief and left me alone. After all, they had no idea we were anything more than friends. In my mind it was clear, we were over.
What followed was the most difficult year of my life. I was grieving the death of my parents and the loss of my most precious relationship. No one knew the truth about why losing Mac had hit me so hard. And when my sisters would ask why I wasn’t talking to him, I made up an insignificant lie about friends drifting apart. Maybe I should have come clean and admitted that we had been dating, but we were young and stupid. We didn’t want the pressure of the town knowing we were together. Looking back, I don’t blame us for deciding to keep things a secret, but I could have used the support of my two younger sisters.
My coping mechanism became work. I buried myself in learning how to run the Westmount Inn, eventually taking over as manager from my grandmother so she could retire. And over time, the sharp pain of losing Mac and our young love faded into a dull ache.
It has been just over ten years since I last saw Mac standing across from me at my parents’ funeral. We’ve somehow managed to avoid each other since then. I’ve grown up a lot in that time and maturity has helped me realize how rash I had been. I know that I screwed up the best relationship of my life, but I can’t bring myself to talk to him.
Seeing him tonight sent me into a panic. A mixture of longing, grief, and confusion flooded my brain and any words I might have wanted to say were stuck in my throat.
He looked the same, only better. I knew from his mother that he finished college with a business degree and opened his own contracting business on the mainland. He relocated to the West Coast, but refused to come back to the island, no matter how hard his mom tried to convince him to come home. She missed him terribly and I had to hide my guilt, knowing that I was likely the reason Mac wouldn’t move home.
