If It Makes You Happy(131)

“You’re right,” she says with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I know.”

Michelle shakes her head and laughs. Then, finally, she turns, dragging both suitcases behind her, and walks away.

My breath catches. My nose stings. My chin is wobbling.

Michelle turns around to see me again, and I let out a choked exhale. I hope she can’t hear it.

I force a smile and hold up my pinkie and thumb, wagging my hand beside my ear and mouthing, Call me.

She laughs, turns back around, and walks through the sliding doors into the airport. I stand there for a moment or two, staring at the empty space she left behind, then climb back in my truck.

The drive back to Copper Run is so quiet compared to the drive with Michelle. Rocket sits stoically in the passenger seat, staring at the bare winter trees flying past. He doesn’t make a sound and doesn’t move an inch. I’ll need a drink with Lars the moment I get back.

I flick through the radio stations, one right after the other, then pause when Eddie Vedder’s voice croons from the speakers. Pearl Jam’s “Black.”

And that’s when it all hits me.

She’s not here.

She’s not here.

And suddenly, I’m choking through tears as they fall shamelessly down my cheeks. My eyes burn. My vision blurs. I’m sniffling and coughing and gripping the wheel tighter.

Rocket gingerly walks across the bench seat, stepping onto my lap to sit. I inhale and exhale shaky breaths, resting my chin on his shoulder, sniffling over and over. Rocket twists and tries to lick the tears from my cheeks. I can barely see the road.

The driver behind me lays down on his horn. I realize I’m going ten under the speed limit. I pull off to the side of the highway.

As the car angrily revs past, I feverishly roll down the window and stick out my middle finger, croaking out, “Yeah, keep moving, buddy!”

I lay my forehead on the wheel, tightening my grip and loosening it. Rocket tries to shove his head under my arms. I lift my head up, draw in a deep breath, and slide my palm down my face, dragging my cheeks with it.

“All right.” I sniff. “Let’s pull it together, right, boy?”

I reach for the glove box to find napkins to blot my messy tears, but when I jerk it open, glossy photos flutter out and fall to the floorboard. I bend down, but staring up at me is Michelle.

My breath hitches as I snatch the photo. It’s us on Halloween. I’m in my black costume cloak, holding that scary mask in one hand. My red flannel pokes out under the sleeves. I look silly, but Michelle—standing across from me with her palm over her mouth—is absolutely radiant. She’s laughing with me, her smile so broad that her eyes squint. She only gets that type of laugh when she’s so happy that it’s hard to keep it in.

She looks so happy.

God, I love her.

I blink through my thoughts, zooming past in a whirl.

I love her so much. This can’t be it. This isn’t the end of us.

“I have to tell her,” I breathe out. I scuff my feet across the floor mat to sit up straighter. I slam my palms on the steering wheel. “Damn it!”

Rocket starts pacing back and forth again, whining. I peer at him from the corner of my eye. He barks in my face.

“Yeah,” I agree. “Let’s go, mutt.”

I push Rocket back, pull down the seat belt to buckle him in, and slam the car into gear. I rip the wheel to one side. His ears fly back. The truck skids us back onto the two-lane highway, fishtailing into the opposite lane. I slam my foot on the pedal, and we take off.





CHAPTER 46





Michelle




I stare out the airport’s floor-to-ceiling window. The runway is full of planes either parked, rolling, or soaring into the air. I clutch Brittany’s stuffed unicorn closer to my chest. My other hand fists around Mom’s purse strap. My flight takes off in five minutes. My section was called ten minutes ago. I’m the only one left standing at my gate, but I can’t seem to move.

If I get on that plane, I’ll have to watch Vermont disappear beneath me.

I’ll be back, sure. But when?

I wonder if Sara remembered to make afternoon coffee. I wonder if Emily feels comfortable, watching TV in the parlor with Dad there. I wonder if Rocket’s made it back to Brittany already.

I wonder if Cliff misses me.

He kept encouraging me to go, and the words at the tip of my tongue couldn’t find their way out.

I love you.

The moment he drove off, it felt like a piece of me went with him. Just like how the last white dot of Copper Run’s sign felt like a puncture in my heart that won’t go away.

I cough out a laugh and roll my stinging eyes, but not before wiping the corner because God forbid I cry in an airport.

God, why am I crying? I feel nauseous. Sick to my stomach.

It’s so ridiculous.

I reach into my purse, fiddling through makeup and keys. I could have sworn I dumped travel-size Kleenex in here. I zip open the back pocket, and my hands fumble over something else. I pull it out. It’s a folded piece of notebook paper, faded to a light tan with a small wine stain in the corner.

I slowly unfold it, my hands somehow shaking as a letter stares back at me.

Dear Shelly.

I pull in a deep, shaking inhale, stumbling toward the window and catching myself, my palm slipping on the glass.