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“If you want to talk, I’m here. The quarter gets you a lot of hours.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“A few months after we left my dad, I asked my mother if we were going back, like we always did. She said no, so I asked why not? I’ll never forget the answer she gave me. She said, ‘Because I finally figured out that you can’t love an alcoholic into sobriety, but you can love yourself enough to let go.’”
***
I laid back on the paddleboard, set the paddle across my waist, and inhaled the smell of the morning lake. This house…this lake had always been my solace. But the only way I could get any peace lately was to come out here and float.
I’d been back for three days now. Normally when I came home to a shitshow like I had the first night—a dented car, six stitches in Evie’s finger, and a recycle bin that weighed more than the garbage one—Evie would sleep for a day and then cry and apologize. Not this time. She just kept drinking. And I was miserable in my own home. Last night, while we were arguing, I’d thought about going to a hotel. But instead I came out here and laid down on the board to think. By the time I went back inside, she was passed out.
Our relationship wasn’t fun anymore—not that any relationship had to be fun all the time, but there needed to be a balance. This was a seesaw that hadn’t teetered up in a very long time. If Evie were any other woman, I would’ve ended things by now. But she wasn’t. She’d dedicated twenty years to a sport rather than create friends and a life. And the only real person she’d ever been close to was her mother, and that woman would only drag her the rest of the way down. So what was I supposed to do, kick her to the curb? I cared about her, loved her even if I didn’t like her very much. Though what Will had said the other day at lunch kept rattling around in my head. “You can’t love an alcoholic into sobriety, but you can love yourself enough to let go.”
I stayed out on the lake, soaking up the sun for the better part of two hours, trying to figure a way out of this mess. The only conclusion I came to was walking away. I think I’d known for a while that was the only choice. But I wouldn’t leave her high and dry. I’d find her a house and rent it for her so she had a place to go. And I’d be there for her as much as I could, just not as her fiancé and not living in the same house. I’d reach out to her father, too, try to encourage him to work on their relationship again. She was going to need as much support as she could get.
Decision made, I sat up and dug my phone out of my pocket. Lynn Walker was the real estate agent I’d used to buy this house. I scrolled through my contacts until I found her number and hitCall.She answered on the second ring.
“Fox Cassidy. How are you, hun?”
I guess my number had been saved in her phone too. “I’m good. How are you, Lynn?”
“Surviving on coffee and good intentions. What can I do you for, son?”
“Umm... I have a friend looking for a rental, preferably a house in Laurel Lake.”
“I don’t think there’s much in Laurel Lake for rent at the moment.”
“What about Hollow Hills? Somewhere near the rink might work.”
“Let me do some research. Is it for one person or a family?”
“Just one person.”
“What’s the budget for the rent?”
Money was the least of my concerns. “There isn’t one.”
“Any requirements, like a big yard or certain number of bedrooms and baths?”
I shook my head. “Only requirement is it has to be in a good neighborhood and have security. It’s for a woman living by herself.” Neither this town nor the surrounding towns were unsafe, but when Evie drank, she didn’t pay attention to things like locking the door. So a good security system was important.
“Okay. Let me see what I can do, and I’ll get back to you in a jiffy.”
“Thanks, Lynn.”
After I hung up, I stayed out on the lake a little while longer, second-guessing whether I was doing the right thing. But when I walked into the house and found Evie burying a bottle in the garbage can at nine in the morning, I felt better about what I’d set in motion. Now I needed a time when she was actually sober enough to break the news.
“Do you think you could not drink today? I want to sit down and talk later.”
“About what?”
“About us.”
“What, like how you don’t even kiss me anymore?” Evie’s eyes filled with tears. “You don’t even like me, do you?”
I could smell the alcohol on her breath. This wasn’t a conversation I was going to have with her drunk. I might have to wait a while, but I thought it was important for her to understand how I’d come to the decision I had to make.
“Evie—”
