Staying For You

by Van Wyk, Jennifer

  “I’m not sure I can,” she says and I have no idea what I missed during my inner-turmoil of hearing her say she’s leaving The Escape. Leaving me.

  And then I hear the rest of her conversation. Her telling the person on the other end of the phone that there’s no chance of us becoming permanent and it’s time for her to get back to her life.

  I knew better than to get attached.

  I told myself time and time again that her presence here was only temporary and I needed to prepare myself for her to be gone for good. That our time together had an expiration date and anything we shared was surface level at best. Unfortunately, that’s not the way it stayed and my heart didn’t stand a chance.

  She burrowed deep, no matter how hard I tried to keep her out of my heart, she barged right on in and made a home there.

  I know I’ve fallen, though I won’t admit it out loud or to her. It’s not fair for either of us. I was just her in between guy, and it’s time I remind myself of that.

  Rather than confront her, for the first time, I walk away from her. I don’t tell her what I overheard. It won’t do any good. The only thing that would come of that conversation is her trying to convince me that it wasn’t the way it sounded or worse, that she meant everything she said.

  By the time I make it back to my cabin, I’m feeling a range of emotions.

  Frustration.

  Hurt.

  Anger.

  Hurt that’s masked by anger.

  I take it out on the deck, cleaning and scrubbing, spraying and wiping. I’m sweating and grunting through the work, the springtime sun beating down on me. I wish it were rainy and cold to match my mood. The fact that the color of the sky reminds me of Cami’s eyes when she’s laughing only pisses me off.

  An hour later, the deck is clean and I’m moving around in the shed to grab the wood stain and supplies I need. Normally this job is a pain in the ass that I hate but right now, I’m grateful for the distraction.

  Arms loaded with everything I need to start staining, I head toward the stairs to get started. Only, something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. Or rather, someone.

  Cami.

  Coming to tell me she’s leaving, if the way her head is aimed at her tennis shoes and her fingers are twisting in front of her is anything to go by. She’s nervous? She’s sad? Fine. Whatever.

  I set everything down at the base of the stairs and turn toward her, hands on my hips. As soon as she’s close, I give her a chin nod. “Hey.”

  “Hi.”

  “What’s up?”

  She scrunches her eyebrows, no doubt confused by my distance, both physical and emotional.

  “I uh…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Is, um, everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. Back to normal for me. I’ve got a lot of work to do here, Cami. I have guests coming in next week.”

  “Oh.”

  “What did you need? Have some laundry you need done? Me to go on another groceries run? More wood for the fireplace or cleaning supplies? To use the grill to make some burgers or grilled chicken?” I pause then lower my voice. “Or maybe you want to cuddle up close and watch a movie together or hang out?” I give off a list of all the things that I’ve done for her over the last five weeks like I’m angry and pissed that I did any of it. Thing of it is, though, I didn’t mind a single one of them and if anyone would ask me if I’d change anything from her time here, I’d tell them no.

  “No.”

  “No what?” I hate the tone of voice I’m using. Short and irritated with her. It’s not me. Not who I am. But she’s about to give me the speech and I thought I had more time with her first. I had hoped that maybe, just maybe, I’d be able to convince her that we could work something out. See where a relationship could go between us. But she rejected the idea before it even left my lips.

  She looks out toward the water and crosses her arms, bites her lower lip, and closes her eyes, inhaling deeply. When she turns her head and opens her eyes, they’re glossy. A vise is gripping my heart at seeing her tears but I don’t rush over to hold her like I want to. I’ve held her in the sweet morning light after sleeping next to her all night, in the afternoon when we come inside from playing — literally playing. I’ve had more fun with her these last few weeks. She’s always up for anything, and if I let myself go there, I’d think that she was damn near perfect for me. But I won’t go there or allow myself to think it.

  In the evenings, I’ve held her as we cuddle on the couch in front of the fire or while we watch another movie. My arms naturally wrapped around her so often that not doing so now feels like I’m going against who I am.

  “I guess I was just coming up here to let you know that something came up back home and I need to leave early.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  I shrug, indifferent. I’m not, though. I want to ask her what changed. I want to demand answers but I don’t deserve them. I haven’t earned that right. Not really. She and I decided in the beginning that we were together because we were here and she and I had some chemistry that neither of us wanted to deny ourselves of. But we knew what we were before we started. If she’s leaving now, it is what it is. I can’t change that. She lives in Tennessee. I live at The Escape.

  And I’m not willing to change that. The Escape is my life. My world, really. I visit my family, but The Escape is my home and it always will be. I won’t change that for a woman who I’ve known for five weeks.

  Damn. I want to punch myself in the gut for even thinking any of that.

  I’m an asshole. Who doesn’t deserve Cami.

  Now it’s my turn to look away because when she gives me the answer to my next question, I can’t be looking at her. “When are you leaving?”

  She shifts on her feet, putting weight on her right then her left back to her right again. “I guess, tomorrow?”

  I hold my breath, wanting my next words to come out carefully. I nod, still not looking at her. “If you need anything, let me know.”

  “If I need anything?” she asks and the sound of her voice almost drops me to my knees. It’s dejected and hurt and sad and worse of all… resigned.

  “Yeah. Packing or whatever.”

  “Packing or whatever,” she repeats and like the asshole I am, I only nod again, finally taking the risk to look back at her. Bad idea. I look just in time to see a tear fall.

  When she finally speaks again, her voice is stronger than earlier. “I think I’ll be alright on my own.”

  “You know where to find me.”

  “Yup. Well, I’d better get to the packing or whatever. Long drive ahead of me tomorrow.”

  “Alright then. Good luck.”

  “You, too.” Her response doesn’t make any sense but I get it.

  She’s sad. Angry. Hurt.

  Exactly like me.

  Already walking away, her shoulders are slumped as she heads back to her cabin.

  And then, because I can’t help myself and that anger that’s masking the hurt is running deep, I drive my point home. “Cami?”

  She lifts a hand and I know she just wiped away a tear when she turns around and looks at me. “Yeah?”

  “It’ll be good.”

  “What will?”

  Throwing her words back at her, the words that she didn’t even know I overheard, I explain, “For you to get back to that life you’ve been taking a break from. I’m just glad I got some good sex out of that break, too. Thanks.”

  She gasps, mouth dropping open. Then I watch as anger sets in. At my immaturity, maybe. At the fact that I’m acting like an asshole, probably. She narrows one eye and then straightens her shoulders. Rather than stooping to my level, she says, “You’re welcome.”

  “Isn’t that what you said?”

  “It is but…”

  “But, what? You knew from the beginning that it was just about sex. That’s what we both decided. While you were here, we’d enjoy each other and the
n move on.” I’m just asshole enough to throw in a smirk and swagger as I make my way to her.

  “Just about the sex, huh?”

  I nod, not being able to say anything else. I hate myself right now. For being this way. Thinking I need to protect myself by tearing her down.

  “If you want, I’m willing to give us one more go before you leave tomorrow.”

  I never saw the smack coming, though I should have. I deserve it. My head is still turned to the side, my hands shoved in my pockets. And then she spins back around and storms down the path to her cabin.

  I want to run after her.

  But what would I say?

  Sorry that I’m a jerk and I was once again protecting myself? But it’s not really my fault because really, wasn’t it inevitable? That I knew this would happen? The exact thing that I was trying to stop from happening that day in my bedroom when I was talking to Ethan? All of that makes me only sound like an even bigger jerk.

  She’s right, really.

  It just sucks in the biggest way possible that she is.

  She was taking a break from life, came up here for inspiration, and we were never meant for anything more. She doesn’t need me laying some sort of guilt trip on her and making her feel like she can’t go back to her life. It would do us no good to spend one last night in each other’s arms because it will only make tomorrow that much harder.

  I don’t watch her walk away. I go into the lodge and busy myself with anything I can think of just like I did so many weeks ago when I was trying to convince myself that she and I didn’t belong together.

  I’ll go back to my life, she’ll go back to hers. It might take a while, but we’ll both move on. The way it was always supposed to be.

  Hours go by before I hear something outside that has my stomach sinking even farther than it already was. I rush down the steps from my apartment to the lodge and look around, hoping that maybe I just heard her driving here. But all I notice is an envelope on the counter with my name on it and the walkie talkie we used almost every day since I gave it to her.

  Tires crunch on the gravel and I’m through the door in no time but it’s too late. All I see are Cami’s taillights and dust kicking up behind her tires as she speeds away.

  Stomach twisting, I can’t let her leave like this. Without a goodbye or at least me explaining myself. Again.

  “Fuck!” I shout and race back into the lodge for my phone.

  I search high and low throughout the apartment, throwing pillows off the couch and looking through the kitchen. It’s nowhere to be found so I look through my bed, ripping the covers off. Digging my hands in my coat pocket that I wasn’t even wearing today.

  “What the hell did I do with my phone?” Then I realize it’s in my pocket. More proof that I’m a freaking dumbass.

  I grip my phone in my hand to call her and growl because I don’t have her damn number programmed in my phone. I had been using those stupid damn walkie talkies to get in touch with her. Frustrated with myself, I chuck it onto my bed and watch it bounce. My mind isn’t functioning right at all; my thoughts completely jumbled and all over the place.

  I take the stairs two at a time to get back down to the lodge where I know her cell phone is in the paperwork I filed the day she arrived. Luckily, I have a good filing system so I’m able to find her stuff quickly. Then dig my hand in my pocket to call her.

  “Fuck!” I shout again when I realize I’d thrown the phone down in my room. Back up the stairs, I rush into my room and angrily punch her number into my phone from the paper I was (finally) smart enough to bring with me.

  It rings three times before going direct to voice mail.

  Not a chance, sweetheart.

  I dial again and this time it goes automatically to voice mail.

  “Shit!” I wait for the message and after the beep I take a deep breath and sit here. I have no idea what to say other than, “Cami.” I blow out a breath. “I’m sorry,” I say just barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

  I go down to the lodge again and snatch the envelope off the counter, rip it open and slide out the single piece of paper that is neatly folded inside.

  With shaky hands, I unfold it and begin reading where I stand. And what I read, makes my heart sink, my stomach hurt, and my legs to tremble with such force that I have to sit down on the floor of the lodge.

  Owen,

  You’re an idiot. But I get it. Kind of. I know you’re protecting yourself even though I really don’t understand what you’re truly protecting yourself from. You said your sister’s friend, Lily, didn’t belong here. That she’s happy and you’re happy she is. You said that looking back, everything happened the way it did because that’s how it was meant to be.

  So why, Owen, do you still feel this need to stop yourself from feeling or better yet… from falling? From experiencing greatness? Lily didn’t hurt you. You hurt yourself. I’m sorry, but you’re acting like an immature asshole. There’s no other way to put it. You overheard one side of a conversation. Yes, it was my side but you have no idea that I’d just found out that not only was my ex-husband squatting in my home, he had invited his stripper-girlfriend who’s six months pregnant with his child. Which means he got her pregnant while we were still married.

  Go ahead and let that settle in a little bit. Go on. I’ll wait.

  I was pissed when I said what I did. And I take responsibility for that. It was wrong, I know. None of what you overheard was true. I never once saw you as just sex or anyone who would be temporary. The truth is, I was protecting myself. Which, not to be a smart ass, but I deserve to do that. I earned it. Being married for eight years to a moron cheater allows me the right to be a little protective over my heart. So yeah, I said things. Things I didn’t mean. But if you’d asked, I’d have explained it. I’d have told you that I was scared out of my mind because I’d fallen in love with you. Hard and fast. In the forever kind where I can’t see a life without you. The kind of love that I would have moved to a new state that I’d only spent five weeks of my life in just to have the chance at seeing where this could go between us.

  That yes, I came here for inspiration and I found it. In you. You inspired me every day. Not just in writing, but in the way I live.

  And yes, my best friend told me to get some — to find an in-between guy. And I didn’t find that. I found a guy, but in no way did I picture you as in between anyone. We were bigger than that and I know you know that.

  I would have told you that you helped me see that I’m worthy of so much more than I’d ever received from anyone before you.

  I would have said that you were the first person to truly understand me.

  I would have told you that the love my parents shared, the one that I witnessed as a young girl and wanted for myself one day, that’s what I felt when I was with you.

  Never have I met a person I felt a connection with like I did with you.

  But you didn’t ask, Owen.

  You. Didn’t. Ask.

  You just exploded and hurt me. Again.

  And after being hurt repeatedly by a man who supposedly loved me for the better part of a decade, I won’t allow myself to be hurt like that again.

  We could have been great together.

  We could have loved each other in a way that would last.

  Why didn’t you ask, Owen?

  I’m so pissed at you for not giving us the chance we deserved.

  For being a wuss and expecting the worse out of me when I’d never, not once, given you a reason to.

  We could have been great together.

  We could have loved each other in a way that would last.

  Cami

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Cami

  I only make it five hours before I have to pull over and stay somewhere for the night. Not because I’ve been crying and need to take a break. Because I left at the stupidest time possible and I’m starving because I missed lunch and only had a bag of peanuts in my car to snack on. I left
all the food in the cabin, not caring enough to go through it. Owen can deal with it. It’s only 7 p.m. and I’m also exhausted. Emotionally spent from everything I found out today.

  My ex is still a dumb mother effer.

  Not surprising.

  Owen is also a dumb mother effer.

  Very surprising.

  “Do you have any rooms available?” I’m standing at the counter of a nice little Drury Inn looking like a crazy person. My hair is a mess, I know my mascara is running down my face, and I’m carrying a plastic grocery bag of clothes instead of a suitcase or even a backpack. When I furiously packed everything at the cabin, I somehow had the forethought that I’d need a change of clothes that I could easily grab without having to drag my entire suitcase into the hotel.

  “Yes, we do. Just one of you?”

  Forever and ever until I die, it seems. “Yes,” I choke out.

  The young girl has more insight than most her age and she asks, “You okay, Miss?”

  Giving her a small smile, I nod, swallow back the shittyness of the day. My phone buzzes with a call once again. It’s either Gretchen or Owen, who’s called me four other times. Not excessive. Still, nice to know he must have gotten my letter. The jerk.

  I press ignore then think better of it and just turn off my phone. She raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow at me. I don’t explain myself.

  “I’ll just need your ID and a credit card. Is a king bed okay?”

  I pull out both from my wallet and slide them across the counter to her. “Perfect.”

  “How many nights?”

  I pause. I don’t know.

  I don’t know how long I want to stay.

  I wasn’t going to be home to Tennessee for another week and part of me wants to go, to figure out all this stuff with Scott, but a bigger part of me feels like if I go back early, that I’ll be admitting defeat.

  “I don’t know,” I admit.

  “Um, well, I guess if you want, I can just put you in for two nights then you can decide?”

  Two nights. That means I don’t have to worry about an early check-out time or being interrupted. That means I can sleep in as long as I want.