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“And I’m glad that you’re doing something you love. I really am, Jonah. But where does that leave me?”
He paces in a tight circle, as if to collect his thoughts before coming to a stop in front of me again, his arms folded. “I don’t know, because you haven’t even given Alaska a chance yet.”
My jaw drops. “How can you say that! Look at me, Jonah! I’m riding around on an ATV, and talking to stupid goats and rescuing dogs from bear traps and going to chili cook-offs, and trying to make our house feel like a real home instead of some shack in the woods. I’m growing enough vegetables in our backyard for a family of fifty to survive the entire winter. I’ve learned how to cook—”
“You’re constantly looking for reasons why Alaska is horrible, you keep talking about Toronto like that’s still your home and this is only temporary, you’re so focused on not fitting in here that you just tried to sell me on dating another woman,” he fires back, his tone full of anger and frustration. “You haven’t made a single decision about what you might want to do with your life, except to make it clear you don’t want a family yet, which is fine with me.” He throws his hands up in a sign of surrender. “I’m not pressuring you about that. But I thought you were happy! I thought you were making it work! And then this morning, all of a sudden, you’re telling me you hate it here, and now I’m beginning to wonder if you ever planned on even liking it, or if you came here already counting on leaving!”
My jaw drops. “That’s not true!”
“Isn’t it? ’Cause I don’t know anymore.” He smooths his hands over his face. “I picked up my life and moved away from what I knew, too. It might not be the same, but it’s still a change. Agnes, Mabel … they’re like my family, and they’re all the way on the other side of the state. I barely talk to them. And, while this might not be the ideal spot for you, you’re either in all the way or you’re not in it at all. And if you’re not even willing to try to build a real life for yourself here with me, then …” His words trail.
And my stomach plummets. “Then what?” I manage to get out in a strangled voice.
He swallows and a pained look fills his eyes. “Look, I know I said we’d find somewhere else if Alaska doesn’t work, but when I said that, I assumed you’d at least try here first.”
“I am trying!”
He shakes his head. “No, Calla, I think you came here wanting to try, but you’re so hung up on not being your mother that you can’t seem to figure out a way to be yourself.”
Boisterous voices fill the air as a group of five pours out the door from the Ale House.
Jonah sighs, lowering his voice. “As far as Marie goes, you either don’t trust me—”
“I do! I swear, I do, Jonah. It’s her I don’t trust.”
“She hasn’t done anything wrong, Calla. You’re being insecure, and I have no fucking idea why. Haven’t I always been crystal clear about my feelings for you?”
“That’s not what this is about—”
“You embarrassed her tonight, and you did it intentionally.”
A flicker of guilt stirs deep inside, somewhere beneath my jealousy.
“I thought you were better than that.” He turns and heads toward my Jeep without waiting for me, his shoulders sagging as if weighed down by a terrible burden.
I trail behind, wiping away tears even as fresh ones trickle, my resentment with Jonah over his claim that I haven’t tried to make this work swelling with each step. What will convince him otherwise? What will I have to do?
Learn to fly a plane?
Hunt and cook my own kill?
Have his babies?
No, thank you.
Not a chance in hell.
Not yet.
Or maybe I’ll never be able to convince him that I tried. Maybe that’ll be his excuse no matter what, when this all falls apart and he refuses to leave Alaska. This is beginning to feel like the fine print in our relationship contract that I somehow missed before I signed on.
We’re almost at the Jeep when Jonah stops abruptly. “So, that day when me and Marie were talking in the hangar … You heard everything?” I see it in his eyes—he’s playing back the conversation, trying to pick through what all was said. How much does he remember of it?
Me? I remember it, almost word for word.
Not trusting my voice, I meet his gaze and nod.
Yes, I know about the ring—I’ve even seen it.
