God, I was pathetic. Hayes was right. I had finally gotten up the nerve to break up with him for what I thought was the final time. Then I’d hit a bump in the road, and I didn’t crawl back. I ran. Sprinted. To his house, his arms, and his protection. He’d asked me what happened, I didn’t want to talk about it, and that had been that.
I don’t care what you do as long as we’re together, he’d said. After that, I fast-tracked the process of becoming a yoga instructor and then taught enough to support my small student loan payment, shoe-buying, and Netflix, and he’d let me skate along. He never even complained. And if I ever mentioned it, he’d just say, You’re going to be my wife. I’ll worry about our bills, and you worry about what you want to do next.
“Do you want to talk about it now?” Hayes asked.
I shook my head.
“Well, for what it’s worth, if I had it to do over again, I would have been the man you deserve. I would have pushed you to finish, to face whatever was holding you back. I do feel somewhat responsible.”
I took a big sip of wine, feeling a little ill, realizing that this breakup was only part of how my life was changing. I had to find a place to live now. I had to get a real job that would pay my real bills. Suddenly, I felt very overwhelmed.
After dinner we walked along the shore back to my room, which, for the night, had become Hayes’s room too. In a moment of guilt and weakness I said, “I’ll take the rollaway.” He was, after all, the one paying for the plush, king-size bed I had been sleeping in—and, I remembered with a tinge of shame, had almost brought someone else into it.
“Nah,” Hayes said. “I’ll take the rollaway. You’re on your honeymoon.”
We both laughed as that huge man climbed on top of the tiny rollaway, his feet nearly hanging off the edge. “Don’t worry one bit about me,” he said. “Don’t feel the least bit guilty that tiny you is in that huge bed while I’m over here swallowing the rollaway whole.”
I stretched out, making myself as big as possible. “This will do for now.”
Hayes rolled over and looked at me. “I do love you, Julesy. I wish you would change your mind.”
“I love you too, Hayes. I swear I do. But I can’t go through it anymore. I have to walk away.”
His tired eyes locked on mine. Then he turned over on his other side, away from me—I assumed so I wouldn’t see his sadness. I didn’t want him to see mine either. My heart felt heavy as my tears fell silently on my pillow. For ten years, Hayes’s hand had been the one I had held, his phone number the one I had memorized, his arms the place that kept me safe. Maybe it had been a false sense of security but, all the same, it had helped me through the hardest times of my life: my parents’ separations, Pops’s death, fights with friends. Suddenly, I felt intensely vulnerable.
A few hours later, still unable to sleep, I snuck out of bed and stepped out onto the small porch. I opened the email from Babs that I had downloaded earlier while connected to the spotty hotel WiFi. It had a header of the Carolina shore with pink flamingos saying, Wish You Were Here, and was perhaps the tackiest thing I had ever seen. It made me smile, which I assumed was its intention.
My dear Julia,
They say that love is grand, but I’m with you: Infatuation is the ticket. Well, for me, maybe. An old lady who has parted with the love of her life, who knows that there is neither the time nor the inclination to find again what she has lost. But you, my dear, have so much time, all the time in the world, for infatuation to turn into deep, true love. I know you are afraid of separating from Hayes. What a huge part of your heart he has! But I promise you, Julia darling, there are other loves out there for you. When you are ready, you’ll find the right man. When it’s time, you’ll know.
All my love,
Babs
I couldn’t help but think of Conner and the way he made me feel on that boat, so swept away and breathless. It was, of course, a way that Hayes had made me feel a million times too. Was any of it real? And how would I know? I sat down to write back.
Dear Babs,
I think it is finished. Actually finished this time. H leaves in the morning and I know it’s right. So how is it then that he is taking such a huge part of my heart with him? Why does it still hurt so much? I do wish that love was easier. I don’t know how you have managed to breathe after the loss of Pops. Have you found a way to be happy without him? I hope you have. If so, can you tell me the secret? See you soon!
All my love,
Julia
I tiptoed back into the room and placed the postcard on the end table. Suddenly, that big, comfortable bed looked so vast, so empty, so foreboding. Hayes was breathing softly, the light bathing him. I kissed my hand and put it to his cheek. A part of me wanted to crawl in bed beside him. I had always felt so small, so safe in his arms. But if the last year had taught me anything, it’s that sometimes safety can be deceiving. Sometimes safety is the disease, not the cure.
* * *
The next morning, I could hardly eat my breakfast. I was trying to be brave and strong as I sipped my coffee and looked out over the water, and then back at Hayes. Our little two-top table underneath the porch overhang held so many emotions that I thought it might break in two—like my heart.
“Well, I guess this is it,” Hayes said after we finished, setting his napkin down and looking forlorn. “Ten years of love swept out to sea in a moment.” We both laughed, albeit a little sadly.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure walking up the dock. I glanced over and did a double take, hoping it wasn’t obvious. I didn’t want Hayes to see Conner, in his white bathing suit and polo shirt, locking eyes with me. He put his hands over his heart and shrugged.
What could I do? I couldn’t run after him with Hayes right there. Maybe he didn’t deserve those last moments of just the two of us together, but I believed that I did. This was my last chance to say goodbye to us, to our life together. But I wanted to signal that Conner wasn’t seeing what he thought he was seeing. I wasn’t taking Hayes back; I was seeing him off.
How did I encapsulate all of that in an unnoticeable movement? I shrugged, hoping he’d get the message. But when I did, Conner hung his head, turned, and walked back down the dock, which is when I knew I’d made the wrong movement. Shit. And that was it. I couldn’t call him. I couldn’t exactly google the boat’s satt phone number. As he had told me when we were together, his boat would be leaving today, heading off to new adventures with his friends and parents. I felt strongly, as I watched him walk away, that I would never see Conner again.
I focused back on Hayes, my sadness compounding. “I am always here for you, Julia,” he said. “I promise. You are my first and only love, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Ever.”
I smiled. “I feel the same.”
He stood up, and I stood too. He wrapped me in a hug, and I lingered there, my head on his chest, knowing it would be the last time, praying that I was making the right decision. He kissed me, and I let him. It was goodbye. It was forever. Then I watched as he made his way down the dock, walking with that distinguishable swagger that was his and his alone the entire way. He stepped onto a boat that would take him to the ferry. He turned, blew me a kiss. I didn’t catch it. I didn’t need it anymore.