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Just open the damn thing.
But I don’t know if I can. If it’s not him, I’m going to be so disappointed. And if it’s him, and he’s just telling me that I need to leave so his family stops pestering him, then I’m going to be doubly disappointed. A double dose of disappointment is too much to stew on all the way across the country. A regular amount alone is already too much.
I know if I don’t face what’s coming, then I’m forever going to be a coward. I have a fifty-fifty chance here—the coin toss. Taking a deep breath, I twist the handle.
It’s not Thaddius’ grandma. Or his mom. It might be kind of a funny thing to think, but Iknowhe’s here because he doesn’t want me to leave. My heart flutters madly. He looks rough. Like he’s been driving with one hand and tugging at his hair all the way here with the other. He also looks freshly showered and gorgeous in his usual faded jeans, but he went for a plaid button-up shirt, which is more dressed up than I’ve ever seen him yet. That has to mean something. And his left eye is twitching, which also means something. I know it does, and not just that he’s crazy annoyed. He looks tired. As tired as I feel. And he likely didn’t sleep, either. Was he thinking about me or just thinking about how to fix things with his family and put his life back together so he can finally get that peace and quiet he’s been craving? All the other signs say he was thinking about me. I know his annoyed face by now, and this isn’t it. It’s also not a mad face. It’s not a face that saysI didn’t build that spike belt because you convinced me not to, so my grandma got through and gave me a piece of her mind, and now I’m here because I need to make things final, and if you don’t leave, one of us is going to end up going batshit bananas, and spike belts will be the least of our worries.
“H—hey.” My voice seems to be a rusty steel trap that’s all rust and no trap.
“Can we talk?”
“Uh, yeah. In here?” I rasp in reply.
“Sure. Please.”
“I don’t have any coffee.”
He doesn’t look at me like I’m crazy. Instead, he just nods. I step back, and he takes a step in. The rooms at this place are enough for a queen bed, a dresser on one side, a TV on the wall, and a small bathroom with a shower only, but it suddenly feels like it’s both the size of a closet and a huge open field. I can’t breathe. There’s not enough air in such a tiny space, but the field isn’t big enough to contain all my hope.
I sit down on the edge of the bed while Thaddius stands. He leans against the door like he can hold the entire place up with just his strength, and it sends a hot shiver racing through me even though now isn’t the time. It’s not the time to be noticing how adorable Thaddius looks when he’s uncertain like this or how that dark bristle of stubble on his jaw makes him look even more rugged. It’s not the time to go hot in the lady bits over his plaid shirt or shitkicker boots. My va-jay might be screaming at me that we have unfinished business, but my brain needs to be the one in control.
I told Thaddius we could live in the moment, but I’m not sure I was right.
He sighs and leans harder against the door. So hard that something cracks. He winces. Dear lord, was that his shoulder or his spine? “I thought you were everything that was wrong in my life. I blamed this notion of you—the faceless fiancé that I didn’t want to think about—for the relationship I had that went wrong, the way my family smothered me, and the burning desire I had to escape. It was never you. It was never even the concept of you. You were never what was wrong in my life. You were the good parts, and I didn’t even know it.”
I’m glad I’m sitting. The bed is hard, but it doesn’t feel hard enough to hold me up. I thought he was going to give me one of those—we’re leading different lives, and this isn’t going to work even if we might have developed a spark of feeling—lectures. I truly hadn’t expected him to say whatever he said.
“My grandma told me it doesn’t matter if we don’t get married. She’s not going to disown anyone. She’ll talk to your grandma too, but I think they just threatened to cut all of us from their will. They were never going to do it. It’s not just up to them either. I think our grandfathers would have a say, and mine no doubt thinks this has all gone far enough.”
I finally found my courage and voice. “Did you come to tell me that since we’re off the hook, we can part on good terms with no hard feelings?” I’m giving him an out. It’s not a trick, and it’s no joke. He can take it if he wants. I want him to have that freedom. I don’t want him to feel like he was obligated to come here. I never want to feel like that again. I was that for long enough. An obligation. He was that for me for the few days it took to get here, and I hated it too. I was that in his mind for years.
I try to tell myself that I’ll be fine. I can brace for it now, make it back home, and then fall apart slowly. I can put myself back together. I can heal. Time fixes all wounds or some such nonsense, though I’m not sure if I believe any of it except the nonsense bit.
I care.
I care about Thaddius. I care about his farm and his animals, I care about him and his relationship with his family, I care about his grumpiness and the poetry he hides, and I care about the tender spots he covers up with a thick exterior skin.
Maybe I came here to say I didn’t and would never care. Maybe I never wanted Thaddius in my life. I might have come to demand a contract that said we would never get married, but I found something else instead, and if that’s life playing a joke on me, then, for once, I don’t mind being the punchline.
As long as Thaddius is here to say he doesn’t mind it, either.
He still hasn’t said anything.
But after a few heart-wrenching moments, he finally said, “No.” All his breath, all his being, and all his feelings go into that one word. “That’s not what I came here to say.”
I feel like I could sink down into this bed and never get myself upright again. It’s a relief, it’s the fluttery feeling of butterflies inside, and it’s the warmth burning through me as my heart swells in my chest. I care. There’s no undoing it. If I go away from here now, I’m going to think about this and regret and care and not move on for a good while.
I search his face, search between what he’s saying and all that he’s still left unsaid. We both left a lot unsaid yesterday. It was why I didn’t feel right about leaving. There was something there. Something neither of us could get out—a whole lot of something that still needed to be worked on and worked out and finished.
Thaddius barely said anything to me yesterday when he dropped me off at the mechanic’s garage, but his silence said so much.
“What are we going to do then?” I’m scared to ask, but I’m done with letting my silence speak for me as well.
“My grandma suggested you get a place here in Upperhand. Or maybe in Seattle. She probably knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who has a great place for rent. And I can help you get a job. Or transfer your credits here so you can finish out your degree. If you want to stay, that is. She said we should do what regular people do and date. If that’s what we want.”
“Was she just saying that while hoping we’d rush into a marriage because of the pressures that still exist? Was it reverse psychology?”
“Not that I could tell. She just wants us to be happy. She came to tell me that what they did, binding us together like that, was wrong.”
