Life's Too Short (The Friend Zone #3)(85)

I’d told her it was a great idea. I liked that she was looking ahead.

I knew she could stay clean. She was strong. And she had access to all the resources she needed now. I think it freed her to admit that she needed to let Grace go. I guess it freed me too in a way. Hoping never was my favorite strategy. There was no more what-if now. I didn’t have to worry if Annabel’s addiction would ruin Grace’s life after I was gone. It wouldn’t—because Grace would be gone too.

I finished typing in the address and went to hit Send on the search bar…

And then I just stopped.

What was the point in going back to St. Paul? What was there for me?

Adrian had said his piece, and I’d said mine. He’d given me an ultimatum, and I’d given him my answer. It was over. And now everyone had what they needed. So what was the point in continuing to be there?

Annabel was getting help. Grace had Dad for now, and Dad had Sonja to support him. They’d be able to take care of Grace until I got her placed with a family. Brent was on the right track.

Adrian had his work and his bottom line.

And for the first time in a long time, I had the prospect that my family might be okay. That was more than I’d ever hoped for.

But would they still be okay if I stuck around? If they had to watch me slowly decline like they watched Melanie?

They wouldn’t. Because looking at me now was nothing but looking at the sun.

They were a fragile house of cards by an open window…and I was the breeze. I had to go.

I wouldn’t get to say goodbye to Grace…

I couldn’t go back. I’d lose my nerve.

This punched me right in the heart, made me feel like I couldn’t breathe.

My baby…

I’d seen her for the last time and I didn’t even know it. I’d kissed her face and snuggled her and smelled her head and I didn’t savor it, I didn’t hold it in…

She was more mine than she ever was Annabel’s. She’d always be mine, even when she didn’t remember a thing about me.

And that would have to be good enough.

I had to hope that the tiny pieces she’d gotten of me would be enough to last a lifetime.

I’d call her case worker and my lawyer and make sure they knew where she was.

I wiped the tears off my cheeks, looked down at my phone, and cleared the address from the search bar. And suddenly the road ahead was a giant question mark.

I’d set off all those years ago to live my life. To be a butterfly in the wind. I’d left on my quest alone. No cameraman to mic me up and follow me and edit my footage. No production assistant to book hotel rooms and plan agendas. Nothing but a single suitcase and the clothes on my back. I had that in the car now. I even had my passport. I’d embarked with a goal to laugh and see the world and live like I had one year left. And now maybe I actually did.

I wasn’t ready to give up my love for life. And I wasn’t going to spend one more day looking at the sun. I’d never do it again. I chose living—because anything else was just waiting to die.

I started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. When I had to make a turn, I went wherever the wind took me.





CHAPTER 30





THE ULTIMATE GUIDE TO SURVIVING A BREAKUP (THAT’S YOUR FAULT)




ADRIAN

Nothing had changed about my place. The tree was still up and lit, Grace’s swing was still next to the sofa. Even Vanessa’s throw blanket was where she’d left it, balled up on the couch, smelling like her. But everything was different now. Like the lights had gone on in a nightclub.

I hadn’t heard from Vanessa in two days. Since she hung up on me on New Year’s Eve.

The second it happened, I knew I’d fucked up.

I’d turned my car around, called Lenny and asked him to go in my place, and drove straight to Stillwater. But Vanessa wouldn’t answer my calls or texts and I didn’t know where to go. I googled bed-and-breakfasts in the area and drove to each one, looking for her car, but I couldn’t find it.

That was the last time I spoke to her.

I betrayed her. I made her choose: me or herself.

And she’d called my bluff.

That ultimatum was an act of desperation from a despondent, sleep-deprived man who was descending into madness at the thought of losing her. It was manipulative and wrong, and I could have never in a million years acted on it. I knew that now more than ever. I wasn’t capable of leaving her, no matter what her position on the end of her life continued to be.

Everything in my universe had been forcefully ranked all of a sudden. My shortcomings laid out with the clarity of hindsight—I was so afraid of being left again by someone I loved I couldn’t even wrap my brain around what was right and wrong.

I should have done what she said. Gone to grief counseling, joined a support group, found a therapist, talked to someone. Anything other than what I did. Anything other than shutting down and giving her an ultimatum because I couldn’t handle the choice she made—and it was her choice to make. She was an expert witness on ALS, giving her testimony, and I’d refused to listen because I wasn’t emotionally capable of accepting it. I was as damaged as they came and I’d never done a fucking thing about it, I’d never dealt with any of it, my abandonment issues, my need for control.