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The kitchen resembles a war zone, so I decide to wash a few dishes and then load the dishwasher. As I’m filling the sink with hot water, my cell chimes. Reaching for it with soapy hands, I place it to my ear, holding it in place with my shoulder. “Hello,” I say, not bothering to look at the screen when I answered it. “Hello?” I repeat when no one speaks.
“Lucy…”
A chill sweeps through me as her tone is similar to that of when she told me the worst news of my life.
“Mom? What’s wrong?” My heart begins a heavy staccato, almost crippling me.
“Honey, it’s Sam.”
I swallow. “What about him?”
“He’s in the hospital. He blacked out while on the tractor.” I close my eyes, an internal scream ripping through me. “The doctors are running tests. His headaches have been getting worse. They’re concerned. He’s asking for you, sweetie.”
The walls begin closing in on me, and I suddenly can’t breathe. “I-is he all right?”
“Yes, he’s okay. Just a few broken bones. But his blackouts… they’re not good. It’s entirely your decision whether you return, but I thought you should know.” My mom would never tell me to do something I didn’t want to do, but I can hear it in her voice. She wants me to do the right thing and come home.
“Thank you for telling me.” My voice sounds so far away. I can’t believe this is happening again.
“Of course, sweetie. How’s everything over in Oregon?” It was perfect until about a minute ago. I’m convinced I’ve jinxed myself. Every time I use that word, there seem to be repercussions of the worst kind.
“It’s great. I love it here, but I guess I should come back now, considering what’s happened.” This is the moment my mother would jump in and tell me to stay if she believed I should, but her silence speaks volumes.
“Do what you think is right. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I hang up, my mind reeling from the news she just delivered.
I know what I should do, but it’s not what I want to do. But how can I stay here when Sam is hurt, asking for me? I can’t. There isn’t a choice to make. It’s been made for me. I have to go back.
“Lucy? What are you trying to do? Drown us?” Quickened footsteps race through the kitchen, but they may as well be moving in slow motion as I’m trying to wrap my head around the fact my life just turned to shit in the span of two minutes.
I slouch against the counter, shaking my head, a hand pressed against my mouth. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Saxon gently touches my cheek, coaxing me to look at him. “Your hand is wet.” A silly thing to notice, considering the circumstances, but I feel like I need to focus on something else before I break down into inconsolable tears. This can’t be happening.
“You left the faucet running.”
“I did?” I ask in a distant whisper.
He nods, his gray eyes softening, his apprehension clear as day. “What’s going on?” What’s going on is that I have to leave Saxon and go to Sam.
When will this end? When will I stop feeling guilty? When is it my time to live my life without regret or remorse?
I owe Saxon an explanation. I owe him so much more, but no matter what I say, it all leads to one reality—I’m leaving Oregon, and I have no idea when I’ll return. The thought breaks the floodgates, and a tear trickles down my cheek. “I have to go back… h-home.” How my heart hurts, but I don’t expect things to be easy now.
“Home? To Montana?” he asks with pause, wiping the tear away with his thumb.
“Yes.”
He wets his bottom lip. “You’re not happy here? Did I do something wrong?”
His self-doubt and automatic response to blame himself has me throwing my arms around him, wanting to wash away his doubts. “No, of course not. You’re wonderful.” I tighten my hold.
“I love it here. I loveyou…but I have to go because Sam…”
He tenses under me, and I close my eyes, holding back my tears. “He’s in the hospital. He blacked out again. This time, however, he was riding the tractor. My mom just called me… He’s asking for me…”
“You have to go to him.” His response leaves me speechless.
