VIOLET. HER NAME CLANGS THROUGH me like a death bell.
It’s been weeks since I left Cape Breton without another word, but I still can’t escape her. I’ll see someone with her hair colour out of the corner of my eye and freeze in my tracks. I’ll think of something that reminds me of her, and my chest becomes so unbearably tight that I wonder if I need to see a doctor.
This, I think, is what a break-up is supposed to feel like.
But does it count as a break-up if we were never really together to begin with?
Everyone—Alistair and Florence especially—had assumed I would hurt Violet anyway, so why does it matter that I left without saying goodbye?
It matters that she let me leave, making her feelings all too clear.
I had tried to be a good pretend boyfriend to Violet. And then I’d tried to be a real one—and was shut down immediately. Well, after we slept together anyway. I can’t shake the feeling that I was used and then thrown away.
Billie took one look at my face when I came home and didn’t dare ask. I didn’t have the heart to lay myself bare, even to my best friend. I’ve been a zombie, only leaving my house to go to and from work.
On the weekends, I’ve been going to Mum’s, to help her pack up her things. And assure my pestering aunts that yes, I believed she would be happy and comfortable in her new home. And if any of them wanted to go visit, I’d be happy to arrange everything.
What I didn’t say was, It’ll be a while before I can step foot in Cape Breton.
My mother, preparing for her move, seemed more and more excited as the date approached.
My sisters are getting older, too, Finn. I can’t depend on them forever, and I shouldnae depend entirely on you, either.
Of course you can, Mum, I’d told her. There was no reason for her not to—no reason for me to want a chance to leave Scotland without the guilt. Not now, anyway.
Last weekend, she had asked me, rather suddenly, What happened to that lass?
My whole body went still, not sure where this was going. I couldn’t meet her eyes when I asked, What lass, Mum?
The lass with all the tattoos. The one who said I couldnae set you up with anyone from my church. What the fuck? You two seemed to be having a nice time—quite cozy on the dance floor at the wedding.
It felt like someone had attached a string to my belly button and tugged—hard.
Nothing happened to her, I’d said flatly. She lives in Canada, you mind?
You dinnae think she’d like it here in Scotland?
I’d had to choke out the words, I’m sure she would.
Mum had only looked at me intently, pursing her lips as if she wanted to say more—but didn’t.
But yesterday, when I brought her to the airport to get her plane to Nova Scotia, she’d brought it up again.
Maybe when you come at Christmas, you can invite her as well. To see ye again in Cape Breton.
I haven’t said I could get holidays to come in December, Mum. We’ll have to see. A lie of course. It was more that I couldn’t imagine the thought of being there without Violet.
My mom had pinched my cheek. I hate to see ye so glum, Finn.
I guess I wasn’t hiding this as well as I thought. Fuck.
I worry about ye being here all alone, she’d said. At my scoff, she’d only added, But you’ll be all right, won’t you, my wee Finnie?
We hugged goodbye, me promising Mum that if she got there and changed her mind, I would come anytime to bring her back home.
But I have a feeling that isn’t going to happen.
And now I find myself with a free weekend for the first time since I’ve been back. I’m looking forward tonight to curling up in my jumper—specifically not the one Violet wore, I haven’t worn it since—and ordering a takeaway.
