“I have to be better too. You’ve made me want to be better. There’s so much love just pouring out of you. You’re so lovely and passionate and I’m so thankful for our time together. Take care of yourself, Sanders. Okay? Well, that’s all I have to say. I didn’t want to leave things where they were. I’m so thankful for our time together.” Her voice went higher as she fought back emotion. “It’s a lot more than I ever thought I deserved. It was everything to me. I miss you already. Goodbye.”
The message ended. The silence rang out. I blinked around my empty, dark apartment as my heart thudded loudly against my chest. It was like everything came back at once. Being here, a million things I’d been pushing away came crashing down on me like a storm. There were no distractions or adventures anymore. I dropped my bags and fell to my knees. Then the tears came.
Chapter 25
Roxy
Sanders left. I pushed him away because things were moving too fast. Now it was almost nine and I sat stroking the condensation off my beer outside the Lodge bar on the patio. My shift had ended hours ago but I couldn’t force myself to go home where I would be accosted by memories of my time with Sanders. I stared at the sunset wondering how my life had gone from so perfect to unbearably wrong in just a few minutes.
“I’m leaving in the morning.” Skip’s voice pulled me from my woolgathering.
I blinked back the burning in my eyes and looked up at him. “Okay,” I said.
He held a beer and looked freshly showered but the sadness that radiated off him was almost too much. I gestured to the chair next to me. “Join me?”
We sat in silence for a long time. A new ache spread as I realized how much I would miss Skip too. I mourned the lost potential of what could be a really great friendship.
Without thinking, I reached out and squeezed his hand not taking my focus from the tall pines casting us in shadow.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he said into his beer.
He pursed his mouth and the gleam in his eyes reflected the reds and oranges of the sunset. I knew that he was referring to Sanders’ behavior. “I can’t keep being the one left behind. He does this. He leaves. He runs. He leaps without thinking …”
I remained quiet as he collected himself.
“And I’m always right behind him. I’m always following him into the wreckage. I can’t do it anymore,” he whispered to himself mostly.
“Nobody should be treated that way,” I said hollowly.
I was starting to see Sanders and Skip’s relationship for what it was. A co-dependency. Both of them enabling and holding the other back. This was why I couldn’t let Sanders stay for me. I didn’t want to be his temporary Band-Aid. Sanders struggled with handling his emotions. He had this incessant need to keep everyone around him isolated from his pain. I’d witnessed the turmoil destroying him the night at the playground. I thought he’d cracked open to let it all out and let me in … but he needed more than I could provide.
“He hides. He treats his pain like a wounded animal would. Only coming back out of hiding when he’s better. Like he has to be this magnanimous presence or nothing at all,” Skip said.
I nodded. My heart ached thinking of all the hours in bed we shared. The ways we loved each other’s body. How open he seemed when I first met him. Only to learn later that he was far more shut down and fragile than I ever imagined. If I thought I was locked down, I had nothing on Sanders. It made me want to be more willing to explore emotions other than anger and retreat. It helped me understand that my actions weren’t in a vacuum. I could hurt the ones I loved.
“You deserve better,” I finally said.
“I’m starting to understand that I do.” Skip smiled softly, that hidden, secret smile of someone falling in love and not really believing it. It was the smile I had worn all last week. I was happy for him. Lord knew, the man deserved to be happy. I hoped that the timing of this fallout with Sanders hadn’t ruined that for Skip.
Sometimes you meet a person and you know they’re meant to be in your life even if you aren’t sure how yet. I had felt that way when I met Gretchen as a little girl. A different sort of regret added to my melancholy.
“You deserve all the happiness,” I said holding up my beer to him.
“So do you,” he said and gently tapped my bottle with his own.
“Thanks.” We smiled at each other. “How are you? How are you feeling about the death of Sanders’ Dad? I’m sorry, I never learned his name.”
“His name was William too. Like me. When I moved in with them, they started calling me Skip. To avoid confusion.” He smiled against the lip of his bottle. “And for other reasons, but that’s a story for another time.”
“William was like a father for you too,” I said.
“Yeah.” He thought for a minute. “I’m sad. So sad. But … you know, it had sort of been coming for a while. I’m thankful for him in so many ways. He saved my life. He made me the man I am.” Emotions tightened his throat. After a few breaths he continued, “But William as I knew him had been gone for a while. I think I accepted that on some level. It may sound terrible but I feel at peace. I’m glad he’s finally with Eleanor again.”
“Was that his wife? Sanders’ mom?” I asked.
William
