twenty-eight
Jamie
Asliceofsunlightpeeked down at me, and I blinked back the haze of sleep. As I propped myself up, my head whipped from side to side before I realized Autumn wasn’t in bed with me.
Usually, I’d toss and turn until sleep decided it’d had enough of my antics and would pull me under. Last night, everything was different. My instinct was to hold on to her tightly. The woman who’d stayed beside me all night, warm and cuddled close.
She had a lot to do this morning, and it was probably the explanation for why she was out of bed this early. That didn’t negate the emptiness I felt with her not here.
And that emptiness didn’t go without notice. Why was I feeling this after what could probably be labeled as a second-chance fling?
Feet down on the woven rug, I looked out the window. It was early, yoga early. I watched the mist on the water outside of Autumn’s window and wished it’d be a frequent occurrence.
Mindfulness be damned, I showed up to sunrise yoga anyway.
Sawyer’s untamed curls fell into their face as they moved like liquid from one pose to the next. Yoga flow was something I’d usually been good at, but since I hadn’t slept more than an hour last night, nothing felt right. I had been counting on the movements to keep me grounded, but found myself barely able to go through the motions. I tried not to replay the words over and over, what we had confessed and reasoned with each other in the dark of night. Words like “we can’t” and “clean break.” She’d been sound and certain, and yet I kept wondering,what if I had said this?Was I wrong in suggesting I stay? Or that we see where this could go? Offering for her to come back with me was a nonstarter, but it felt wrong to throw this away. Maybe I was the only one feeling things.
Forty minutes later, the sun was up, and Sawyer had the seven of us dripping in a cleansing sweat, ready to be dismissed for the last time, which filled me with a sense of sorrow. Spiraling seemed like today’s reality, but I was doing my best not to let that last longer than this class.
I took a deep breath, got out of the shower, and set back to my cabin to pack up. Tossing my clothes and things haphazardly, I was surprised at how different the bag was now compared to the tidy and careful way I’d packed before coming. Today was the last day, and how I packed didn’t matter. Seeing Autumn before leaving did. She couldn’t leave, and I couldn’t stay, but I could find her some coffee.
Still early, the mess hall was buzzing. Campers were saying their goodbyes and taking photos before their scheduled departures. I was grateful for the pod dinner yesterday and the time I’d had with Ren and then with Autumn. PicturingAutumn’s blonde hair bouncing against the contours of her neck as she pushed it behind her ears and smiled down at me. Hovering over me, knowing we’d never do it again.
I could still feel her hands on my chest, her hips in my hands, her lips on my mouth. In between the banter and fun, we’d had moments of unchoreographed affection as we whispered and rocked together. In the bliss of our recovery, when everything had become clearer than a line in the sand, I felt like I’d lost the tug of war in my heart.
I made my way toward the espresso bar. I’d watched her make her coffee a couple of times and was pretty sure I had the hang of it. I grabbed a pink mug off the caddy that reminded me of her, ground the beans, and added the hazelnut flavoring to finish. The French roast was her favorite, and it smelled amazing. As I waited for the adorable mug to fill, I leaned into a calf stretch, the lack of sleep catching up a bit. Autumn had already mentioned the last day of camp was the craziest, so with all that work she’d put in last night, I wasn’t about to let my girl—who wasn’t my girl—go into a caffeine-starved deficit.
Mugs in hand, I went searching for her, checking her cabin first. Maybe she had come back looking for me, but her cabin was empty, nothing out of place. I humored the idea of not finding her before I left, and it hurt. What if I didn’t find her in time? What if I had to leave without saying goodbye again? I wondered briefly if this was how she’d felt when I’d disappeared on her all those years ago. That must have felt awful. I couldn’t let that happen again. I shook the thought away before making my way over to Jack’s cabin.
I set one mug down and knocked twice, glad when he opened up. He looked like he’d already been working half a day and needed a shower. His messy blond hair was contained in a backwards cap, in natural waves at his shoulders. He had a towel and a toiletries bag in hand, and I wondered why he wasn’t usinghis own shower because Autumn’s cozy cabin had a bathroom. I shrugged. None of that mattered.
“Hey, man, is Autumn around?”
He set the toiletry bag down on the porch banister and met my eyes. “No, she’s been zooming like a hummingbird. Go, go, go. It’ll probably be like that all day. You might be able to catch her over at the office, though.”
I thought about making the trek, but if I went over there, I’d just be interrupting her focus. I met Jack’s eyes again. He looked at the steaming mugs I held, his face full of longing.
“That makes sense. I don’t want to bug her.” I grabbed the cute pink mug off the railing and held it out to him.
His eyes lit up as though it was the best thing he’d ever seen all week. “Come on in.”
As I took in his living space, I wondered if he had time to do anything but work. There was an overflowing basket of laundry on his couch, dishes in the sink, and more than a week’s worth of mail on the floor, probably from falling after being carelessly tossed onto the table.
Jack took a swig of Autumn’s coffee and winced at its sweetness. He probably took it black.
“Is it strange? Becoming friends with people, only to have them leave in a week?”
He looked contemplative before he shrugged. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. There’s no other life like it, you know?”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking of this place and how it’s so different from my real world. It makes you never want to leave.”
His eyes met mine. I knew it was all over my face. Yearning to belong here too. Even if I never would.
“But you are? Leaving?”
I didn’t know what to say. For a minute last night, I’d thought she might agree to a relationship, that she might want me to stay. Autumn had hesitated, and I’d held my breath along withthe words I’d been desperate to let go.Let me stay. I want to be with you.Those thoughts weren’t helpful now. In the aftermath of everything, it just wasn’t an option.
“What makes you ask that?” I inquired, my tone neutral as I let my curiosity build. Had she said anything to him? Maybe she’d want me to extend my time here. I could take another week off work before starting the promotion. Maybe they’d let me if I asked. My mind flitted to the possibilities, before I reminded myself, no, I wasn’t staying and she wouldn’t have mentioned that to Jack without telling me.
