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FOURTEEN
Daisy
For years, I thought I knew the meaning of being brokenhearted. I thought I knew what it was like to feel lonely.
I was wrong.
As I stood outside, beside my SUV, with my arms wrapped around Forrest while we were in the midst of saying our second goodbye to one another—the first having happened while we were still inside the cabin—I finally realized just how wrong I’d been.
Maybe I had moments of feeling like I was alone before coming on this trip, but I was pressed tightly to Forrest’s body right now, and loneliness, the likes I’d never experienced before, was already taking up the space in my heart and mind.
And though there had been things that made me sad over the years, nothing had ever resulted in me being able to feel actual heartbreak. It was a pain that settled in the center of my chest like an open wound I didn’t think would ever stop bleeding.
It was devastation and despair.
It was hopelessness.
It was wanting to hold on to the man who’d made me feel more alive in not quite two weeks’ time than I’d felt in my whole life.
It was hoping he’d never forget me; the same way I knew I’d always remember him.
It was wishing things had been different and he would have wanted me to go back to his hometown with him.
It was wanting to throw myself to the ground—kicking, screaming, and crying—refusing to leave the only place I’d ever felt happy.
No matter all that it was, I couldn’t do a single thing about it.
Forrest was leaving and going back to Steel Ridge. I was heading back to Birch Creek to do what I needed to do.
With any luck, I’d be back here in a few weeks, and I’d count down the days until Forrest returned for his next snowboarding trip. Maybe then we’d be able to turn this into something else, something more.
That is, assuming he didn’t find someone else.
God, what if that happened? I didn’t think I’d survive it.
I wanted to laugh at that word—surviving. Is that what life was going to be for me for the next year? Doing whatever was necessary just to survive.
Maybe I’d get lucky, and Forrest really would reach out to me for my birthday. Maybe he would follow through and want to do something special with me. I refused to get my hopes up, because I knew it was possible I’d be let down, even if Forrest didn’t do it intentionally.
For now, part of doing what was necessary to survive meant keeping all of this to myself and not letting Forrest see just how devastated I was.
He needed to see that I was happy, that I was okay.
I could cry later. Not now. I didn’t want him thinking I’d be a mess. Though, it might not have been a bad idea, because he’d probably follow me just to make sure I made it back safely.
I wouldn’t do that to him, no matter how much I wanted the extra time. Forrest was a good man who had his family, friends, and work to get back to.
I had nothing, nobody.
Forrest had his life waiting for him, and that was at least one thing I could be happy about. A man like him deserved to have good people in his life.
So, keeping my arms wrapped around him, I pulled my face back from his chest to look up at him.
While I couldn’t be certain I was right, his expression seemed to mirror what was happening inside my head. There was a mix of adoration and yearning there, and it was marred by misery and sorrow. It was as though we both knew enough to appreciate how lucky we’d been to have this time with each other while we were disappointed it ever had to end.
“So, this is it,” he declared.
Nodding, doing my best to appear happy, I stared into his gorgeous blue eyes and confirmed, “This is it.”
