Rainier Drive (Cedar Cove #6)(98)

“I never meant to fall in love with Vicki.”

“You’re sure you love her?” That was the important question.

“I’m sure,” Cal said. “We have a lot in common.”

If this was supposed to make her feel better, it hadn’t worked.

She could see that he was waiting for her to say something, and despite the emotions that simmered inside her, she couldn’t. She’d wanted this meeting and agreed to see him when he’d phoned. She didn’t know what she’d expected—certainly not this crush of pain and loss. Perhaps it would’ve been best to simply walk away and not look back.

Cal glanced at her. “Aren’t you going to yell at me or anything?”

She managed a smile and stared down at her feet in their neat, polished pumps. “I thought I would, especially when you first told me. I guess I’m past the angry stage.” She wasn’t really, but couldn’t see any point in discussing it or telling him it often took years to get over rejection. At least that was how she felt about it.

“I…I don’t have much experience in relationships,” she said. This grief was new to her, a life-lesson she didn’t want to learn—or repeat.

“I know and—”

“You don’t know any more about relationships than I do,” she told him.

“No, I don’t,” Cal murmured amenably. “I think we both liked the idea of being in love.”

She didn’t agree with him, but there was no reason to argue. “Perhaps,” was all she said.

Cal sighed and looked out over the cove. “I guess your entire family’s upset with me, and I’m sorry about that. I like your family.”

She shrugged. “Mom and Dad both think you’re the greatest thing since flu shots.”

Cal cracked a smile. Then, apparently feeling it was necessary to predict a positive future for her, he said, “One day you’re going to meet someone who’ll love you more than I did.”

Linnette supposed Cal meant that as a compliment, but it didn’t sound like one. “I should hope so. I’d hate to think getting dumped is going to be a regular occurrence for me.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” Then, to her dismay, a tear escaped. Hoping he hadn’t noticed, she quickly wiped it away. She hadn’t anticipated this heart-wrenching sense of regret and wasn’t sure how to react to it. She’d truly loved Cal and tried to help him. Perhaps that was where she’d gone wrong. Perhaps no man wanted to be helped by the woman he loved—or thought he loved.

“Vicki asked me if she should come and talk to you herself. I—I didn’t think that was a good idea.”

“Probably not.” Linnette figured it wouldn’t look too impressive if one of the community health-care professionals scratched out another’s woman’s eyes. The thought produced a near smile.

“I have an announcement of my own,” she said with false enthusiasm.

Cal looked directly at her then, for the first time since their conversation began.

“I’ve decided to leave Cedar Cove.” She made it sound as if she’d received the opportunity of a lifetime, when no such prospect existed. In fact, she’d be breaking her contract and her lease, packing her bags and walking away with no destination and no plans.

“You’re moving?” He seemed shocked by that.

She was astonished that he actually thought she’d stay in Cedar Cove.

“I’ve always wanted to see other states.”

“You have a job?” he asked.

Not yet she didn’t. But it shouldn’t be a problem finding employment in one of the small towns that dotted middle America. “Do you think I’d move without a job?” she asked, implying what she knew he wanted to hear.

“What did your parents say?”

Of course she hadn’t told them yet. This had been a recent decision—made all of two minutes ago. And yet…it felt right.

She had to leave Cedar Cove. It was difficult enough to recover from a broken heart, but it would become impossible if she had to see Cal and Vicki around town. No, the only reasonable solution was to pack her bags.

“I’m sorry,” Cal said wretchedly. Linnette knew he was sincere. In two words he’d told her he would have spared her this pain if he could.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said with a flippant air. “I’m learning lessons most girls learn in high school. I…I always was a late bloomer.”

She stood abruptly, needing to get away. “Goodbye, Cal.”

He stood, too, looking at the ground, shuffling his feet, obviously ill at ease. “I’ll always be grateful to you.”

He’d be grateful. Well, that was nice, but it didn’t make up for the fact that he didn’t love her anymore. Linnette walked home to her waterfront apartment, which wouldn’t be home for much longer, and climbed the stairs. Not once did she glance back, which was an accomplishment of its own.

Coward that she was, Linnette phoned the medical facility so she could talk to the personnel director and give notice verbally. A formal letter would be coming, she said. When she got off the phone, she wrote and printed out the letter, as promised. And then, because she needed to do something physical, she pulled out her suitcases and started to pack.