To Say Goodbye

by Lindsay Detwiler

  “You just feel like it’s not fair you have to be so unhappy.” Stella eyed her seriously, a look telling Sophia she truly got it.

  Sophia nodded, admitting to her friend what she’d been trying to hide.

  “Soph, I get it. I do. Your world is still in limbo. It’s natural to feel angry when everyone else is moving on, but you don’t have to be in limbo, not forever. Stop constricting yourself. Stop being afraid to feel. Grief has no time limit, it’s true. Standing still isn’t going to bring Tim back. Pretending you don’t feel something won’t resurrect what you had.”

  They stood, the words simmering between them. It should have been an awkward moment, one of those friendship-defining moments that pulled two people apart. It wasn’t.

  Sophia, not really knowing where to go with the conversation, simply said, “So what does Larry think about the Flipper-themed festivities?”

  “Does it matter?” Stella smiled. “Plus, I mean, the man proposed to a pink-haired, mismatched sock wearing woman who eats SpaghettiOs on a regular basis. He probably knows the white dress, church wedding isn’t really in the cards.”

  “Well, he’s damn lucky to get you. Seriously. You spice him up. An engineer. I would’ve never guessed.”

  “Me neither. But that’s the thing about love. It’s not really logical, huh?”

  “Neither is life.”

  The two plopped onto the sofa to talk wedding gowns and cake flavors, sipping a bottle of wine as they chatted.

  It would only be later, alone in bed, that Sophia would let her mind travel where Stella had stopped it from going.

  _______________

  It was a Tuesday, and the night of their four-month dating anniversary. Sophia was dressed in a knee-length dress Stella had deemed too conservative—although anything was probably conservative compared to the damn miniskirt she’d let her borrow on the night she met Tim. She headed to their regular spot. She and Tim went to “their” restaurant at least once a week, the call of the lasagna, Tim’s immense discount, and the memories of their first meeting calling them back.

  Pink Lemonade had been up and running for a couple months. It was a hectic time. With Tim back in school and Sophia absorbed in the day-to-day running of a new business, it seemed like there was never enough time.

  One thing that wasn’t crazy and chaotic, however, was them.

  Ever since the encounter at the restaurant the first night, Tim and Sophia had been inseparable—and Stella certainly noticed. She was always teasing the two about their googly eyes, their sweet sentiments, and the fact Sophia constantly talked about Tim.

  Sophia had her share of heartbreak and crazy ex-boyfriends to know her connection with Tim was something special, something magnificent really. It wasn’t because of outlandish romantic gestures or unguarded passions between them. It was the ease of their connection, the way she could tell him things she didn’t think possible. It was because in just the four months they’d been together, she trusted him. She trusted him enough to tell him about her father’s secret fight with mental illness and her own troubled moments during her teenage years. She trusted him enough that she was able to open her heart, to show her vulnerabilities and fears. She trusted he would never see her differently.

  Sitting at their regular table as Tim told his coworkers that no, he couldn’t bus table fifteen because he wasn’t working, Sophia smiled as she set her purse on the floor and settled in. Within a few minutes, Kenzi, Sophia’s favorite waitress, came to get their orders.

  “I’m guessing it’ll be the usual?” she asked, getting out a tablet and looking at them expectantly. They nodded, and Kenzi smiled. “I’ll tell you what. You two are adorable.” She winked then, looking conspiratorially at Tim, who winked back.

  “How are things going?” Sophia asked, ignoring the odd feeling stirring from their wink and turning the conversation to Kenzi. She always chatted up the friendly brunette when she was in.

  “Good. Joe’s taking me to Paris next month, which is pretty exciting. It’s our ten-year anniversary.”

  “How awesome! Congratulations,” Sophia said, truly happy for the woman.

  “I better get back to the kitchen.”

  “Oh, wait. Can we have the appetizer now?”

  Kenzi nodded. “Sure thing.”

  Sophia gave him an odd look. “We don’t usually order an appetizer.”

  “True. But we have a new appetizer, and last week when I was working, I told Kenzi I wanted to try it.”

  Sophia nodded, not quite believing Tim. He seemed calm, sipping on his water as he looked at her.

  “How’s the client list coming?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “Good. We’ve added about thirty in the past few weeks, which is awesome.”

  “And the lemonade? Still a hit?”

  “Of course.”

  He looked at her, his warm eyes dripping with some type of unidentifiable emotion. He looked like he wanted to say something, like he was just buying time. She couldn’t shake the feeling things were off, but she couldn’t imagine what. Things had been great with him. She was crazy about him, and from the night they had last night, he was crazy about her. What could possibly be wrong?

  Before she could think too much, Kenzi returned with the appetizer.

  “What’s that?” Sophia asked as the waitress put down a beautiful pink plate of strawberry cheesecake, Sophia’s favorite, and two glasses of pink lemonade. “What kind of appetizer is this?”

  Kenzi smiled, clapping her hands as she backed away, trying to give them privacy. She didn’t go very far.

  Tim took a deep breath. Then, he began speaking in a low, confident voice. “It’s been four months since you walked through the door and asked me for a pink lemonade. From that moment, I knew there was something about you. I’m not naïve enough to call it love at first sight... but it was certainly something. The way you smiled, the way you blushed, everything about you—I had to know more. The past four months have been some of the best times of my life because I’ve been lucky enough to get to know you. I’ve learned just how amazing you are, from your talents at running a business to your compassion. I’ve seen your interactions with others, from the time you stopped to give a homeless man fifty bucks from your wallet to the time you gave a stray cat a bath last week. I’ve seen so many amazing things about you that have made me fall more and more in love with you. But it’s not just the good, I see, Sophia. I see your flaws too. I see your short fuse when it comes to slow drivers. I see your tendency to talk too fast and your inability to stop buying shoes.”

  Sophia had been tearing up, but now she looked at him in confusion. “Thanks... I think?”

  “My point is, I don’t love you for this perfect image I have of you. I know you’re human. I love you, good and bad, perfect qualities and flaws. I love every single piece of you, and I know I will for the rest of my life. I know this is crazy. I know it’s only been four months. I know you might say no. I’m a future lawyer. I don’t take risks. I’m taught to not take cases I can’t win. For once in my life, I’m taking a risk, going against the inner rational thinker within me. I’m going to lay it all out there. Because you’re worth it, Sophia. I would do anything for you.”

  He stood, other patrons now alight with excited murmurings. The scene, though, started to whir around her. She felt excited and nauseous at the same time. She hadn’t seen this coming, not at all. On one knee, Tim pulled out a ring box and presented it to her.

  “You’re my best friend. I love you. Will you marry me?”

  She looked at him, unsure of how to react. In the movies, girls cried, or gasped, or screamed at this moment. They leapt into the arms of their lover, sometimes tumbling down in a cute and clumsy display of affection.

  Sophia did neither.

  She sat, stunned, silently appraising the situation. The ring, the restaurant, the eyes on her... it was all too much.

  “I don’t feel well,” she said, standing as she fanned herself.
She felt really hot all of a sudden, a scorching sauna lifting from under her skin.

  “Sophia?”

  “I’m fine. I just...”

  And then there was nothing.

  _______________

  Sophia woke to a crowd gathered around her, a woman shouting she was a nurse pushing her way to her. She felt the strange woman’s hand on her wrist. Everything was blurry, but then it came into focus.

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know, I think you blacked out. Just stay there.” A woman’s hands were on her head, pushing firmly. She tried to brush her away.

  “I’m fine. My head just hurts a little.” She started to sit up, wooziness overpowering her. Tim and the woman pushed her back down gently.

  “The ambulance is on its way,” another voice shouted.

  “Tim, I’m fine. This is silly.”

  Suddenly, she felt something sticky on her forehead. She pulled her finger in front of her eyes and saw it—blood. Hot, sticky blood.

  Then there was nothing again.

  _______________

  The next thing she remembered was opening her eyes from a hospital bed, bandages partially blocking her eye. Tim was pacing around the room, and her parents there, too.

  “Mom? Dad? What’s going on?” she croaked. They ran to her bedside.

  “Oh, honey. You’re fine! You just took a spill.”

  “What?”

  “Do you remember?”

  She thought, rummaging through her mind for the appropriate memories. It came back to her in bits. The ring, feeling very warm, and then nothing. Then the blood... and nothing again.

  “What happened?”

  “They ran some tests. They think you just had low blood sugar from not eating all day,” Tim said. “You passed out, but I couldn’t quite catch you in time. You fell in an awkward way and cracked your head on the corner of the table. You got some stitches.”

  “Well, your fiancée isn’t quite the graceful woman she claims to be,” her dad added, and Sophia’s heart stopped. Of course! The proposal. The ring. She had never said...

  “It’s not fiancée yet,” Tim said, looking at her expectantly. “Although after this whole scene, I’m not so certain about her answer anymore at all.”

  He approached her, taking her hand in his.

  She smiled at him, despite the aching in her head and her exhaustion. “Yes, Tim. I was going to say yes.”

  “Really?” His grin was goofy, like a small boy who found a $5 bill on the ground.

  She nodded gently, and he left out a cheer. “Hallelujah!” He reached in to kiss her, vigorously brushing his lips against hers.

  “Ow,” she said.

  “Sorry,” he sheepishly apologized. “We’re getting married! Let’s set a date.”

  “How about we get me out of this joint first,” she teased.

  Their toast wasn’t quite the adorable, memorable pink lemonade toast he had planned for them. They didn’t get to enjoy the celebratory cheesecake either, hospital Jell-O having to serve as a substitute along with some ginger ale.

  Despite the chaos and the bandages, the impromptu trip to the hospital, the pain, and the mild concussion, it was all worth it.

  She was marrying Tim. She had found the one, her Mr. Right, the man she would spend forever with. At that moment, hospital bed and all, Sophia was happier than she ever dreamed she could be.

  _______________

  At the time, stitches from a fall were the worst thing Sophia and Tim could imagine in their life together. They hadn’t been able to foresee, to even consider life would throw them an even harsher, unbearable blow. A decade of happiness, of flashbacks to their memorable proposal would be scarred by a sudden loss, a devastating blow to their relationship. Forever wouldn’t be as long as either of them had planned.

  Stella’s ring had brought visions of that first proposal, but in truth, they’d brought visions of another proposal, too. Sophia wanted to block this second one out, to pretend her mind wasn’t going there.

  But it was.

  Because when she saw Stella’s ring, she had also been considering what it would be like to have Jackson ask her to marry him, to have him say sweet, tender words to her on a carriage ride, reminiscent of their first real moment together. She had thought how the name Sophia Gauge flew sweetly off her tongue.

  Tears welled, and her heart ached. She missed Tim. She hated herself for wanting Jackson. Most of all, she hated the aching pierce of her lonely heart.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  JACKSON

  “I’m sorry I missed last night, Mom. I couldn’t get off work.” Jackson handed his crudely wrapped gift to his mom, who was leaning on the counter.

  “You’ve been working a lot lately, honey,” she replied, reaching for the package. “We missed you last night.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” He led himself to a stool at the island as she unwrapped her birthday gift.

  “Do you want some leftover cake?” she asked, setting down the package to reach for a plate.

  “No, I’m good.”

  She started cutting him a piece anyway. She handed him the cake before returning to the gift.

  He sighed, deciding the chocolate cake with peanut butter icing did look amazing.

  His mom crumpled the paper, putting it on the counter as she opened the box to reveal the bracelet he’d picked out—this morning, but she didn’t need to know that.

  “Honey, it’s gorgeous. I love it,” she said, heading over to hug him after she put it on her wrist. “Thank you.”

  She kissed him on the cheek as he shoveled cake in his mouth.

  “So, how are things?”

  He swallowed a glob of icing before replying. “Okay. Busy.”

  “Yes, I know. I’ve barely seen you this month.”

  He eyed her, trying to mask the despondency on his face. “It’s been hectic at work.”

  “Jonathan told me the appeal was approved and you’re going to court soon.”

  “Yep.”

  “Aren’t you happy about that? It’s a good sign.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll probably lose anyway.”

  “Jackson. What is this? You’re so negative and down. I’m worried about you.”

  “Mom, I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine. You haven’t been fine since she left. Stop pretending you haven’t been around because of work.”

  “I told you, I’ve been working a lot.”

  “Not last night.”

  His cheeks reddened and his gaze fell to the floor. “How’d you find out?” he mumbled, ashamed.

  “You know I have eyes everywhere.”

  “Gloria.”

  “Yes, Gloria found out from her son who knows Joe, your coworker.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Honey, I don’t care about you missing my birthday party. I’m an old hag. My birthday doesn’t even matter anymore. I’m more concerned about you. You’re slipping away, Jackson. I see it on your face.”

  He put his head in his hands. His mother was right. She was always right.

  He hadn’t wanted to admit how close he was to the edge again, how close he was to slipping back into the Jackson he had been after Chloe left him. He didn’t want to own up to the fact that the bottle was calling his name, that suddenly the sunshine felt like it was melting his skin. He found himself, more and more, craving the solitude of his dingy apartment and he felt the mindless television gaining room in his life. He found himself sinking slowly away from the man he’d become.

  The man he’d been with Sophia.

  Gone were the days of laughter and optimism. He didn’t even know the man who thought he could win Logan back. He looked in the mirror and he saw sadness, loneliness.

  He saw a broken man.

  But he wasn’t one to ask for help. He wasn’t one to admit it. Instead, he’d been slipping away from everyone, from everything. His days were again overrun by work and sleep.

  He
snapped out of his thoughts when his mother put her arms around his shoulders.

  “Jackson, get it together. It’s not too late to get her back.”

  “Mom, stop. I’ve tried.”

  “Well try harder. It’s not like you to give up so quickly. God, all those years growing up, you were a stubborn ass. Now, you find the woman who makes you happy, and you just let her go at the drop of a hat? What the hell are you thinking?”

  He turned to look at her, and she smiled.

  “Wow, Mom. Way to be subtle.”

  “I don’t have time for subtle. Neither do you. Don’t let that woman slip away. Fight for her. Fight for Logan. Fight for your life back, Jackson.”

  It’d been a hard few weeks. He hadn’t felt any glimmers of hope. The turned down phone calls, her insistence it was over. A few annoying visits from Chloe, a few violent outbursts when he swore up and down it was still over. Nothing seemed hopeful.

  But leave it to his mom, the crazy, sometimes foul-mouthed lady who loved to stuff him with food, to reignite his views of the future.

  She was right. What the hell was he thinking?

  He wasn’t ready to let her go. He didn’t think Sophia was ready to let go either, no matter what she’d convinced herself.

  “I love you, Mom,” he said, kissing her on the cheek. “Happy belated birthday. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to see you blow out the candles. I hate to run, but I have somewhere to be.”

  His mom smiled, clapping her hands together. “I knew that candle was lucky.”

  “What?” he asked as he stood from the stool.

  “That candle Gretta brought. She found this birthday candle shaped like a cat, so naturally she bought it for me. I made a wish when I blew out the candles yesterday—not that you would know since you lied and skipped my party.” She grinned, showing she was teasing. “Anyway, I made a wish. And I think it’s about to come true if you’re heading where I think you are.”

  “I’m heading to the graveyard.”

  His mom furrowed her brow. “Okay, well, that wasn’t my birthday wish.”