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“Yeah, which is why I wanted to let you know…”
I cut him off, my voice strangled. “Let me know? I don't understand why you're leaving.” I swipe angrily under my eyes to catch a couple tears before they fall.
“I don't think you will. No one else seems to.” Through my blurred vision I can see the conflict in his eyes, like he wants to try and explain but he’s had a similar conversation with someone else, and he doesn’t want to risk it going badly again.
I’m torn too, between needing an explanation and wanting to lean into him before he’s not here anymore. The way he’s acting feels final, like even if I tried, there would be no changing his mind. He’s also never elaborated on anything before, so I doubt he’d start now. Without saying anything else, I lie back down, but face away from him. He lies down too, the heat of his chest against my back warming me, though I can’t stop shaking. I scoot back into him. He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me to him, as close as he can. Tears sting my eyes as I attempt to process what he told me. I’m cursing them to not fall, but they disobey me.
“Maci,” he whispers.
I shake my head against him.
Quiet sobs come out of me and don’t stop. His forehead presses into the back of my head and he tightens his grip around me with each cry that escapes aloud. The way he’s holding me contradicts everything else that is happening. My heart is breaking for me, but an unexplainable gut feeling makes it shatter for him. I don’t understand how it can feel like this is so hard for him when it’s his choice, but I’m overwhelmed by my thoughts and whatever emotions are radiating off him. I’m confused about what’s happening, and it makes me cry harder as we lie here, until I’m exhausted enough to fall asleep.
We are leaving his house for what is probably the last time, after what was the best sex I’ve ever had–until he sprung his big news on me right after. The car is completely quiet. We don’t speak, and there’s no music on the radio–nothing to drown the overwhelming static from my thoughts. Trying to make sense of how yesterday was about to end perfectly, then actually finished with me realizing it would be the last time that could ever happen, seems impossible.
He shifts his truck into park in front of my apartment. With the engine still running, he looks over at me. My hand is already on the door handle because as much as I don’t want this moment to be over, I need to be as far away from it as possible right now. I hold his gaze until I feel the tears coming back. I wish he’d kiss me. Or say something. Mostly, I wish he’d tell me this is a joke. But I know he’s not going to, so I can’t stay here any longer.
I close the door softly behind me and walk up the path. Right before I reach the door, I swear I hear my name, but when I turn around, Dean isn’t there anymore.
In three days he won’t even be in the country anymore. He’s getting on a plane and moving to Costa Rica. He’s not just going on vacation. He’s packing and leaving without any intention of coming back for the foreseeable future. Like the idiot I am, I didn’t ask a single question. I didn’t say much besides “that's cool!” because what the hell do you say to the guy you’re crazy about picking up his life and taking it to another country? Also, I didn't know he was graduating two quarters early. What’s his rush? I’ve been “not dating” dating this guy for months now. How did I not know this? Maybe the same way I didnt know he was moving to another country until a few days before he was leaving…he didn't want to tell me.
Maybe this is why we never officially committed to a relationship. Last night was the first time the thought of it ever came from him since his almost accidental slip up, and now that I’m thinking about it, we don’t even know each other's middle names–at least I don’t know his. I’m crazy to think this was anything real. But damn, I’d say we were at least together enough for a little bit more warning than that. I mean how many other girls does he have no condom sex with? He told me none. That seemed like a necessary thing for him to note, but this didn’t?
Walking through the front door expecting to be alone, I’m surprised to find my best friend sitting on the couch, phone in her hand. The second she looks up and sees me, tears start pouring out of my eyes. By the time Avery realizes what is happening and makes her way over to me, I’m already on the floor, my back against the door, choking on sobs that shake my entire body. She wraps her arms around me tightly, waiting for me to speak.
Somehow, I manage a few sentences. When she pulls back, confusion covers her face, not because she couldn't understand me through my tears, but because she just doesn’t understand.
Welcome to the club.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Ican’tbemad.Traveling the world is something Avery and I have been dreaming about for as long as I can remember. Jealousy? I feel like that's a justified feeling. But how can I be mad at Dean for following a wanderlust as strong as mine, arguably stronger since he is acting on it, and I’m over here just making lists. I’m assuming that’s why he’s going. I still can’t believe I didn’t demand more information. I was upset, shocked. Either way, did he have to just up and leave? What kept him from telling me? Could he have waited and taken me with him? Could we have tried long distance? Would that have been crazy to ask?
His last text to me–the only one since he dropped me off–said:I’m glad I met you, Maci. I’ll be happy if we run into each other again down the line. Also, I’m going to be living in and visiting some pretty amazing places, and I would love for you to visit.
I never responded because I wasn’t sure what to make of it because what the fuck. It felt like there was both a level of finality and an open invitation. One last time, I was left confused and exhausted from attempting to decipher his thoughts. I’ve been trying my best to ignore it because it’s only been a week since he left, and I’m losing my mind. I want to be done.
It’s also been a week since I’ve gone anywhere or done anything. I only showed up to my classes to avoid sitting at home, trapped in my head. Thank goodness it’s only the first week because I’m too busy attending my own pity party to spend time studying.
I’m going out tonight. I need to. I don’t want to be around anyone, but I’m self aware enough to know I shouldn’t be alone with my thoughts.
I drag a brush through my tangled brown hair and swipe on mascara, for my own sake. I change out of my sweats and into jeans for the first time this week. When I walk into Jameson's, a friendly face greets me at the door. “Hey, Maci, has it been a month already?” Jace jokes.
“Oh shit, I think so. I don’t know, I’m sorry,” I mumble apologetically.
He catches onto my lack of usual friendliness, and his voice softens. “You know I don’t care. I mean, hell, I can’t even blame Dean.”
I cringe at hearing his name. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Jace. I just need a drink.”
“Well, you’re in the right place, I’m sure Jess has a spot at the bar for you.”
I find a seat at the end of the bar, in the dark corner closest to the bathroom, where the low lighting matches my mood. Jess comes over almost immediately when she sees me. “Hey, girl!” She sets a whiskey sour in front of me. “Missed seeing your face around here, maybe you could stay out of trouble…or out of the bathroom for a little while,” she jokes. Great, will this be a thing from now on? I don’t know why I thought going out would help me escape Dean. Then again, coming to this particular bar probably wasn’t appropriate for that goal. I just want to feel connected to him, even though I can’t be. This is pathetic.
“Don’t worry, the trouble isn’t coming back.” I mean it in more than one way.
“Oh no, what’s up?” She glances at the rest of the bar. “Actually, I need to work, we are slammed. I’m sorry, we’ll chat later?”
Before I have a chance to respond, a voice comes from behind me. “Don’t worry, Jess, I’ll take it from here.”
