by Dean, Taylor
Oh, okay. Sure, I’ll leave tomorrow. See ya. Hey, it was kinda fun kissing you every day for the last few months. Didn’t mean anything though. Not a darn thing. It was all just for fun—a great way to pass the time.
Marisa may have plans for her life, but she’d obviously developed feelings for him, much stronger feelings than he’d realized. He should feel flattered.
He didn’t.
He felt horrible. His gut burned as if it had a gaping hole inside of it, raw and oozing acid. His plan to let her go—to grant her freedom—was an epic fail. His actions spoke loudly, saying, “Go away. I don’t want you anymore. I’m done with you.”
Not exactly what he’d intended to convey.
Yet, he’d treated her as if she had made the decision to leave him, as if she’d already rejected him. Surely she’d sensed his underlying anger and was confused by it.
I’m mad at you for something you haven’t done yet, but I’m sure you will do it in the near future.
Shameful, Josh.
He’d been cold to her in the office and he regretted it. Surely he could’ve figured out a nicer way to end things.
Is there a nice way to end a relationship?
After awhile he made his way back to the stable to await the return of Marisa. He waited for over an hour till he finally heard the sound of Carson feistily trotting in. It looked as though Marisa’s charms had worked their magic on Carson, which was a downright miracle. He sat in darkness in a corner of the stable, letting his anger brew. She’d risked her life to ride the unpredictable Carson. His anger was only for her lack of concern towards her safety, not really directed at her personally. He watched as she prepared Carson for the night, softly talking to him and petting him. Carson responded in his usual spirited manner, but if he’d objected to Marisa, he would’ve thrown her with no remorse whatsoever. Relief washed over Josh in waves.
Marisa collapsed against the wall of the stall and let her back slide down until she hit the floor. She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Her head hung dejectedly, breaking his heart. Quietly, he arose and stood within her sight. Noticing the movement, her eyes lifted as she brought them up to glare at him, her eyebrows deeply furrowed. No other part of her moved. She was devastated at the events of the evening and she didn’t try to hide it.
Joshua glared right back at her. His eyes narrowed and he let out his breath as he allowed his anger to wash away, relieved that she was all right, that she had come back safely. Josh crossed the distance between them in just a few short strides, held out his arms to her, and she grasped his hands. He pulled her to her feet and engulfed her in a warm embrace. He held her to him tightly, feeling the beat of her heart against his chest. He kissed the top of her head and massaged her back gently. It was now three in the morning and it’d been a wild night. He picked her up in his arms and carried her across the yard, into the house, and up the stairs. She buried her face in his chest and her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He took her into her room and slammed the door shut with his foot. He lowered her onto the bed ever so gently and began to kiss her, tenderly and softly, as if she was a precious jewel that meant more to him than anything in the world. He ran his lips across her forehead, down her cheeks, and then to her lips where he would linger, caressing her softly. The glow from the moon shone in through the window casting a mixture of light and shadow across the room that was at once both romantic and eerie. He kissed her like that for over an hour as tears intermittently trickled down her cheeks.
Let this be the last memory they held of each other.
As they softly kissed, a feeling of utter peace washed over him. Time seemed to stand still in the moon washed room. Marisa rested comfortably in his arms, completely relaxed, completely his.
It was after four a.m. when he slowly got up to leave. She looked so beautiful as she lay across the bed, bathed in moonlight. He had to tear himself away. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done in his life. Her eyes held a hint of hope after what had just transpired between them. He crossed the room, pausing at the door, and without turning around said in a whisper, “Be ready at eight.”
–14–
Marisa awoke at six in the morning with a heavy heart and having had very little sleep. She slipped into the shower, making it as hot as she could stand, and stayed in there for over an hour, letting the room fill with steam. She sat in the bottom of the shower and cried some more. Once out, she dressed, fixed her hair, and added light make-up, knowing it wouldn’t help any. She looked awful, the drama of the evening evident on her face. She threw her clothes into her suitcases, uncaring that they were crumpled. It was now seven-thirty in the morning. Marisa rolled her suitcases to the top of the stairs and left them there. Bethany wasn’t in her room. She walked downstairs, assuming Josh already had her up with him. Joshua was sitting at the table, presumably having breakfast, but his food sat untouched in front of him. He rose when she walked in.
“Marisa…” he said slowly, eyeing her from head to toe. “Would you like some breakfast?”
“No,” she said flatly. “Where’s Bethany? I’d like to say goodbye to her.”
“I’m sorry, she left early this mornin’, at about six. I’ll tell her goodbye for you. She’ll miss you,” Joshua said apologetically.
Marisa’s face crumpled. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye to her,” she protested, with a crack in her voice, hating the whine in her words.
“I’m sorry,” was all he said.
“I don’t think you are,” she whispered as she turned and walked out the front door quickly, slamming it behind her as hard as she could. She didn’t really care if her actions seemed childish. If she didn’t slam something, she’d rage at Josh—and she needed to maintain some semblance of maturity.
Too late for that. Too late. Too late.
She collapsed onto the front steps and held her head in her hands, suddenly feeling as though she couldn’t breathe, gulping in air as fast as possible. It felt like her life was being taken away from her and she didn’t know where to go from here.
She heard the front door open. Joshua sat next to her on the steps, at least a foot away, already putting distance between them.
“I know this is hard. It‘s hard for me to see you go.” He paused. “I’m sorry about Bethany. I didn’t want to put her through a painful goodbye. She’s very attached to you. I thought it would be easier this way. She doesn’t know you’re leaving. I’ll explain it to her when she gets back.”
He was so very wrong. Bethany will feel betrayed when she arrives home. But her five-year-old thoughts will be expressed through tears. Josh doesn’t realize what he’s doing to her—or to me. Marisa said nothing in response, so he went on.
“I want you to go on with your life, Marisa. You have so much ahead of you. Live your dreams, travel, and most of all, be happy. You’re so very young and I know there’s still so much more in store for you. You need to move on and live your life. You can’t do that here.”
Marisa let that sink in. He didn’t understand that he was her life. He was all she’d ever wanted, he was everything to her.
Jake walked by, pulling her luggage down the stairs clumsily, rolling it down the long walkway, and tossing it into the back of the truck. It was official, she was really leaving. She stood and walked a few steps away from Joshua. “Don’t tell me what to do,” she said angrily and dashed at her tears. She started on her walk down the drive, to where the truck waited, without even turning and looking at him. Jake revved the engine impatiently, eager to get on the road. Marisa’s heart squeezed tightly in her chest at the thought.
This was it. It was over.
Marisa still had some fight left in her and Josh wanted to smile at her words, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. He loved her cheeky nature, but he also knew that she was hurt, and hiding behind sarcasm. He hadn’t slept at all last night and his head began to throb. He rubbed at his temples, hoping to massage away the pain. It didn’t
help at all. He was watching Marisa walk away and he didn’t want her to leave. He should be the one driving her to the airport, but he knew they’d never make it. He wouldn’t be able to follow through with saying goodbye. They’d end up parked on the side of the road somewhere kissing like there’s no tomorrow. The thought appealed. It was good between them. There was no doubt about that. Briefly, he toyed with the idea of simply telling her the truth, but he knew she’d lie to herself. In the heat of the moment, with their emotions hot and intense, it would be easy to convince herself that she’d be happy here. It would be much later that she’d be filled with regret over her decision. And by then it would be too late.
Josh didn’t want this to be their last words to each other. “Marisa!” He ran after her till they were face to face. She stood in place, a look of anguish pasted on her expression. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”
“Then don’t do this,” Marisa begged.
“It’s for the best.”
“I don’t want to leave.”
“It’s time for you to go.”
“I want to stay here with you,” she pleaded.
“It’s not possible,” he stated.
“I love you…”
“Marisa, please don’t make a scene.”
“I love you, and I know you love me. Do you hear me? I know you love me. Please don’t do this. Please. I know you love me…” she almost yelled, moving closer to him with every word.
“Marisa…” he said in a tone that made her freeze. Slowly, he admitted, “Look, it’s true that I find you beautiful, charming, vibrant, full of life. I’m captivated by you…even intrigued…” What could he say? He wanted her to know what she meant to him and yet make her leave at the same time. He suddenly knew what he was going to say—a total lie—and it would hurt her, but it would make her leave, he knew that without a doubt. And as much as it hurt him to say it, he was letting her go so she could have a life and not be stuck here with him. It was for her own good. She just couldn’t see that yet. Someday she’d thank him for this. He was saving them both from heartache. He continued, “I love your passion for life, you make me laugh even when I don’t feel like laughing. I love your quick mind, and I find myself extremely attracted to you, but, it’s just that…” He saw hope flash in her eyes and knew he was about to dash that hope. Could he really say it? He cringed inside, but knew he had to do it, “I’m—not—in—love—with—you.” He said it slowly and succinctly, as if talking to a small child.
The expression on her face killed him. Her small smile at his first words slowly died. And then it was as if a light went off in her eyes and life faded from her face. She stared into his eyes for at least a full minute before his words registered. She visibly paled, her eyes left his, lowered to the ground and then she lowered her head. Several tense moments passed.
What could she say to that? Nothing, absolutely nothing. She nodded her head in the affirmative, slowly, almost imperceptibly, telling him she now understood and accepted his decision to send her home.
The front door opened and Josh heard Constance summon him. “Mister Joshua, the phone’s for you. It’s Bethany. She sounds very upset.”
Josh ran his hand through his hair. The timing couldn’t be worse. He’d just broken Marisa’s heart and now Bethany was more than likely having an attack of homesickness. “Damn,” he mumbled. “I’ll be back in just a minute. Please don’t go yet.” He couldn’t part with her on these terms. “I have more I’d like to say to you.” Somehow, he’d smooth things over and they’d part as friends. He couldn’t leave things the way they were. Her visible reaction to his words shocked him and he hated the look of devastation on her face. Did she really love him that much? Perhaps he’d underestimated her.
Josh hurried into the house, knowing he needed to console Bethany quickly. He’d hardly considered Bethany in his decision. She’ll be devastated when she learns that Marisa has left—and he’ll have let down the two most important ladies in his life.
Yep. Epic fail.
Several thoughts crossed his mind, but he didn’t let himself dwell on them for too long. Thoughts like, maybe I’m letting my past make my future decisions. Maybe what Marisa and I have together is the most important thing I could ever have in my life—maybe nothing else matters once I have love. Maybe Marisa feels the same way. Maybe I’m wrong about her. Maybe…
Overwhelmingly, one main thought niggled at the back of his mind. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake it. Marisa is the first and only woman I know of that has ever begged to stay at the ranch. Have I just made the biggest mistake of my life?
But if she really loved him, she’d be back again one day, he was counting on that. For now, she had a life to live and he had to let her go. It was the decent thing to do. He told himself he was doing this for her.
It only made him feel marginally better.
From his office window, Josh could see Marisa standing outside, alone and waiting for him. She looked so…forlorn, so dejected. The sight broke his heart.
“Yes, Bethany, if you’re not happy there, I’ll come pick you up, sweetheart,” he consoled.
The next sight that met his eyes left the phone falling from his numb fingers, crashing to the ground with a loud bang.
Josh ran for the door.
Marisa stared down at the ground, feeling utterly small, utterly insignificant. Inconsequential. A little piece of fluff. Maybe the wind would blow her away and she’d flitter off into the atmosphere, forgotten forever.
“Where’s that girl I was supposed to take to the airport? What was her name again?” Jake would question.
“Who?” Josh would answer. “What girl? I don’t see any girl around here. Get back to work, Jake. We have things to do.”
Life will go on at the ranch with or without her. Josh will go on with life without her.
What now? Where do I go from here?
There she stood, waiting with hope in her heart for Josh to return. Why? So he could twist the knife a little deeper? So he could tell her he wasn’t in love with her some more? That she’s been a pleasant pastime, but sorry, he’s just not feeling it? What was she, a glutton for punishment?
This sucks.
She shifted her weight from foot to foot. She placed her hands in her jeans pockets and then took them out again and then put them back in. Feeling something strange in her pocket, she pulled the item out only to find the dried wildflower Josh had given her on the day of the rattlesnake bite. She’d planned on scrapbooking it, but the events of the day had caused her to forget about it. It wasn’t really a day she wanted to remember anyway. Rubbing her fingers together, the little bits of dried, brittle petals disintegrated and blew away with the wind. Somehow this seemed significant, metaphoric. Her life was disintegrating before her very eyes.
Marisa felt tears begin to sting at her eyelids. She swallowed the huge sob that threatened to engulf her at any moment, leaving her unable to breathe. What am I doing here?
Jake exited the truck, leaving it idling. “Marisa, I forgot my wallet. I’ll be back in a red hot second.” Then he paused, studying her expression for a moment. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Marisa told him. “Of course,” she lied. She found herself feeling a little surprised that he still knew who she was—and that he could still see her. Guess she hadn’t disappeared or turned invisible as of yet.
Nope, still here. Unfortunately. Invisible in every way except physically.
Suddenly feeling very alone and vulnerable, Marisa scanned Josh’s amazing home, committing it to memory. Her thoughts merged with reality.
This home would never be her home.
Josh was a dream that would never be fulfilled—love that would never be made, children that would never be born.
Once the concept took root in her distraught mind, adrenalin coursed through her veins at an alarming rate. As she brought a hand up to push the hair from her face, it noticeably trembled. She clasped her hands together tightly
in an attempt to control the shaking as she wondered if she was about to be sick. That’d be something for Josh to remember her by.
What was she doing here? What was she waiting for?
Josh didn’t love her. He was asking her to leave. He’d tried to break things off gently, kindly. If she hadn’t demanded an explanation he wouldn’t have said it so bluntly. If she hadn’t forced his hand, he wouldn’t have said it at all. She cringed inside at the thought. She’d made such a fool of herself.
“Marisa, please don’t make a scene.”
Too late. Not only had she made a scene, she’d made that scene last all night and all the way into the morning.
Marisa turned and stared at the truck, waiting to take her away, waiting to separate her from Josh. Would she ever see him again? Would she live the rest of her life wishing for one last glimpse of his handsome face? Always pining for him? All of her luggage was packed. Nothing of her was left in the house, not a trace, not a shred of evidence that she’d once lived and loved there.
She whirled around again and stared at the house. It loomed over her, the windows and doors firmly closed, never again allowing her access to the inner sanctum. Her head began to spin, her heart began to pound wildly in her chest. She didn’t belong here, she never had.
I’m not in love with you.
What part of ‘I’m not in love with you’ didn’t she understand?
She made a split second decision in that moment. Why should she wait for Josh to return? What more could he say? There was nothing that could make it better or heal the sudden gaping hole in her heart.
I’m can’t handle this. I’m outta here.
Impulsively, Marisa ran for the truck, jumped inside, and switched the gear into drive. Once inside the false security of the interior, the tears began to pour down her face unchecked.
Josh had dumped her. He wanted her to leave. He didn’t love her.
A sound that she didn’t recognize as coming from herself escaped as she lost her composure. The tears were coming fast and hard, and she didn’t seem to be able to control them. How could he say that? Marisa backed the truck out and turned it around, the tires squealing from her rough driving. Jake came running up to the passenger window, yelling what, she didn’t know. She glanced at him for only a second before she pressed the gas. Hard. Leaving only a puff of dust in her wake.
