She let out a sharp breath. “So what does that mean? You’re giving up? Just gonna throw in the towel, call it quits, and walk out the door, Adam?” Disgust laced every syllable as she spoke. “Way to be all-in.”
“You said it yourself, Lily. I can’t let the past go. As hard as I try to push Max Samson out of my mind, he just stays there.” She rolled her eyes at the truth in my confession. “But there’s one thing you haven’t realized.” I let her stare fixate on me before I spoke again, wanting to make sure that she heard what I had to say. “You’re no better at leaving the past behind than I am. You’ll always compare me to Max: who forgives you and who doesn’t, which one of us remembers your birthday and which forgets. Because, as hard as you try to push Max Samson from your mind,” I said slowly, “you just can’t do it either.”
I stood up cautiously, not wanting to jar her anymore than I just had. She watched me rise, looking at me as if she’d just seen a ghost. Maybe she had. I leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her forehead before turning toward the door to leave. “Bye, Lily,” I said, stopping to put my key on the small table by the door as my hand gripped the doorknob. “And for what it’s worth, I do love you.”
I didn’t wait to hear her response before closing the door softly behind me. Because while the thought of hearing her speak those same words scared me, the possibility of not hearing them scared me just a little bit more.
Chapter 39: Adam
Despite the fact that my love for Lily had been real, so had the feeling that our relationship had become strained beyond repair. When I’d closed that door to Lily’s apartment, I’d effectively closed the door to that chapter of my life. And a part of me was devastated by it. For so long, I’d thought that if we just tried hard enough, we could go back to how we felt when we’d first met: that carefree newness and comfortable safety that we all take for granted until one day we realize we’ve lost it.
The truth is, I was sad. Not sad because I felt I’d made the wrong decision. I knew I hadn’t. Lily and I could have never made our relationship work. But that’s what saddened me: putting so much effort into something and failing miserably anyway. I mourned the loss of what I thought could have been.
Though the grief I felt for our failed relationship felt constricting at first, the more I thought logically about the situation, the more I realized that I felt like a weight had been lifted off of me too. I’d put so much effort into trying to forgive Lily, to forget about what had happened in the past, I hadn’t stopped to enjoy the present.
So when my thirty-fourth birthday rolled around a week and a half later, I couldn’t wait to enjoy some time with family. My parents had invited Eva and me over for dinner and cake, and I was looking forward to the beautiful late May weather while I relaxed on their back deck.
***
“Mom? Dad? We’re here," I called, as I entered the front door.
“In here, Adam. Happy birthday.” My mom’s voice drifted out from the kitchen, where I could smell the delicious aromas coming from the oven.
“Thanks, Mom,” I said, leaning down to give her a hug and a peck on the cheek. “I thought we were grilling today. What are you making?”
“We are grilling. Your dad’s out on the deck making some grilled chicken and some sort of pork. Just making some homemade baked beans and roasted potatoes in here. Where’d Eva go?”
I turned around, thinking she’d followed me into the kitchen, but she was nowhere to be found. “Eva, where are you?” I called. Teenagers.
“In here!” she yelled from the family room.
“Well, come in here and say hi to your grandmother.” The sound of Eva’s exaggerated groan meant that she had enough sense to listen, but as she rounded the corner still texting, I rolled my eyes. “You know your friends will still be there if you remove your thumbs from your phone, right?”
“Yes, Dad.” She returned my eye roll with one of her own before putting her phone in her pocket. “It’s nice to see you, Grandma,” she said sincerely as she hugged my mom.
“You too, sweetheart. Adam, why don’t you go out and keep your father company. Eva and I will finish in here.”
As I slid open the glass doors to the deck, I smiled sweetly at my mom and shot Eva a threatening look that let her know she needed to stay off her phone and help with dinner.
“Hey, Adam. Didn’t even know you were here,” my dad said, wrapping his big arms around me and squeezing tightly. “Happy birthday.”