Hunter blew her a kiss and wandered through the trees until he disappeared in the brush.
Her brother’s passionate arguments still rang in her ears. She stared up at the tree house, dim memories circling the periphery of her mind. She reached for the ladder, tested a rung, and then climbed up into the old fort.
Alec was right: animals had nested and eaten through a lot of the things they’d left behind, like the old coffee can where they’d stuffed bags of candy. A rusty, crushed beer can lay in the corner . . . probably Joe’s. Wax stains still colored one corner of the floor from all the times they’d hung out at night and lit candles and told stories. Told secrets.
“I thought you were leaving today?” Colby asked, surprised to see Alec pop up the steps.
“I want this for my dorm room.” He nodded toward the blue-and-gray tie-dyed tapestry on the wall.
“It’ll be so weird without you and Hunter around. I’m jealous you guys are getting out of here and going to such big cities.”
“You’ll get your turn soon enough.”
“Do you think you’ll ever be back?” Seeing him now and saying goodbye made her stomach hurt a little.
“School breaks.”
“No, I mean, like, where do you think you’ll be in ten years . . . ?”
“I don’t know. That depends on how well I do in school, but I hope to go to France or stay in New York when I graduate.”
“So you won’t be back.”
“Will you miss me?” He teased her now, but at the same time, he almost looked like he was holding his breath.
“I guess I always thought we’d all be friends forever. Maybe even that our kids would be friends like us. That kind of thing.”
“Why do girls think of marriage and kids so young?” he asked.
She stood and helped him take down the tapestry, now curious because he’d never really had a serious girlfriend in high school. “Don’t you want to get married?”
“Sure, one day.”
“And what will your wife be like? Another chef, or just a taste tester like me?” She laughed, again feeling another pang, this time for all the yummy food she’d miss sampling.
He paused, averting his gaze. “If I’m lucky, she’ll be someone exactly like you, Colby.”
“Whoever she turns out to be, I hope she’ll let us stay friends.”
Colby shook off the bittersweet memory. She climbed down the ladder, thinking about what silly ideas young girls could spin, whether plucking the petals from daisies or daydreams about the future. Maybe Hunter was right. Had Colby never let go of childish fantasies about life and love?
She’d gone off to college, planning to become a nurse because she liked to help people. Who would’ve predicted she’d become a transactional lawyer or run a restaurant? If anything, the foundation seemed a better fit for her skills and temperament. Especially if the right temperament for running a restaurant required Alec’s relentless drive for perfection.
The sky warned of rain as she wandered back through the shrubs, past the garden, and up the steps of the deck. Once she reentered the living room, her mom handed her a full glass of Cabernet.
“Here you go, honey,” she said, patting Colby’s shoulder.
“I don’t need this,” Colby protested.
“Everybody needs wine once in a while, especially to relax. I’ll make some lunch. You go take a hot shower.” Before Colby could lodge another protest, her mom disappeared.
She didn’t need a shower, but she meandered back to her room and lay on her bed, her mind still swimming in nostalgia. Rolling onto her side, she picked at the comforter while watching the sky turn dark gray, like her mood. Stitch meowed from the doorway, staring at her forebodingly. “Go away, Stitch.”
Of course, he didn’t listen. Obstinate, taunting old beast.
Colby closed her eyes and pictured Alec’s face from yesterday. She couldn’t decide if knowing about Mark’s letter would’ve made a difference. Truthfully, Mark had said he couldn’t “live like this” many times throughout their short marriage, usually when he was coming out of a depression. Those were the worst of times—the climb out of that hole, with its mix of good days and bad—when he’d lose hope then that he’d ever break through the clouds. He’d want to end his suffering, but she’d always found a way to keep him going until that day.
Had Alec alerted her, she might’ve confronted Mark, but ultimately she couldn’t say that it alone would’ve prevented what had happened. And even if Alec had forgiven Mark then, Mark might have eventually slipped into some other depression that ended the same way.
Truthfully, the only silence to blame for Mark’s suicide was her and Mark’s choice to hide the truth about his illness. To isolate themselves from the support of family and friends, whose help might’ve actually made a difference in his treatment and prognosis. Those decisions she and Mark made together made that horrible day inevitable.
Yet even as she recognized herself repeating those same patterns with Alec, she hadn’t spoken up—about the critic, about her life with Mark, about Alec shielding her from his dad. In her own way, she’d sabotaged their chance at happiness as much as Alec had.
She sat up, irked that she’d let him call the shots yesterday. Maybe they couldn’t work everything out, but she should’ve demanded more than thirty minutes to make life-changing decisions.
She grabbed her keys and raced through the house. “Mom, I’ve got to run. Sorry about dinner.”
When she arrived at Alec’s apartment, his car was nowhere in sight, so she decided to surprise him by waiting. She still had her key. He could ignore her calls, but he couldn’t ignore her if she was sitting at his table.
She parked at the curb, cursing the fact that the skies had opened up. After running through the downpour, she used her key to get inside, surprising the hell out of Julie Morgan.
“Colby?” Julie sat up on the sofa, where she’d been resting.
“Oh, I’m sorry to barge in.” She wiped her wet hair off her face, embarrassed that she’d trespassed. “Is Alec home?”
“No.” Julie froze, apparently stunned by the intrusion.
“Will he be back soon?”
“Let me get you something to dry off with.” Julie went into Alec’s bathroom and returned with a bath towel. It smelled similar to his clothes, thanks to his fabric softener, but was missing the essential element of him.
“Thank you.” Colby began drying her hair and then wrapped the towel around her shoulders. “So where’s Alec?”
“He went out.”
“Has he said anything to you about . . . things?”
“Just that things aren’t working out, and he might need to go to LA or New York to find work.”
“I didn’t ask him to go, Julie. He made all these decisions. I wish he wouldn’t have hidden his feelings about so much for so long.”