I heard the screen door slam, and a second later Doug was handing me a can of Coke.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, taking it.
It was so humid you could’ve cut the air with a knife.
Doug sat down in the rocking chair next to me and opened his soda with a pith. “Don’t like the looks of those clouds.”
I didn’t answer.
It had been pouring every day since Alexis left. It had been so miserable the town was almost empty of tourists. Couldn’t use the bike trail or the river, couldn’t walk around. All the weekenders had canceled. Even when it stopped, it didn’t really stop. The sun never came out, nothing was ever dry. Then it would start again, like there was no limit to how much water could fall from the sky.
Hunter sat at my feet, his head on his paws. My dog had been good ever since Alexis had left. Like he knew I couldn’t deal with his shit right now—or he was too sad to give me any. At home he kept staring at the driveway, waiting. Every time I tried to bring him in, he’d fight the leash. So I just left him out there.
“Did you eat today?” Doug asked.
I’d been losing weight. No appetite. He probably noticed it more than I did, not seeing me every day like he used to.
It was a moment before I gave him a slow head shake.
“You gotta eat, man. You get hungry, and you’re gonna feel worse.”
“Nothing can make me feel worse,” I said, my voice rough. I was mortally wounded. A sandwich wasn’t going to save me.
He didn’t answer. He just procured a granola bar from somewhere and handed it to me. I took it slowly and just stared at it in my hand.
“This hurts so much,” I said. “I can’t breathe without her. I just want it to stop.”
Doug peered out into the yard. “Maybe it’s not meant to stop. Maybe this is supposed to make you strong.”
“It’s not making me strong. It’s killing me.”
He just looked out over the pastures. We went quiet for a few moments.
“I’m leaving,” I said.
He turned to look at me. “What?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I can’t be in this place without her. I can’t breathe here.”
Thunder rumbled overhead.
“But…you can’t leave, man. What the hell are you gonna do somewhere else?”
I shrugged. The same thing I did here. I’d miss her. That’s what I’d do. But at least then I’d be missing her in a place that didn’t remind me of her every second.
It was amazing that one season of someone could paint over a lifetime. This wasn’t the place I grew up in anymore. It wasn’t my home. It was just the last place I was with her. And why would I want to remember that?
A sharp gust cut through the property, and a bucket rolled across the yard. We watched it bounce like a white tumbleweed and then disappear behind the barn.
“I wasn’t what she needed,” I said so quietly I didn’t think he heard me.
“Yeah, you were,” Doug said. “She’s just got other shit going on, shit that doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
I shook my head. “Yes, it does. She was embarrassed of me. I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t worth the trade-off.”
“You know what?” Doug said from next to me. “She loved you. I don’t care what you think. I saw it. Everyone did.”
I stayed quiet. She did love me. I knew that. I believed that. But what does love matter when it can’t outweigh the rest of it?
The rain started to fall. It came down in heavy sheets so thick tiny creeks started to form in the grass. Dragonflies darted around in the downpour.
Doug squinted out at the yard. “What’s up with this weather? I haven’t seen it like this since the month your grandparents died. This shit’s ridiculous.”
I didn’t answer. Because the answer didn’t matter.
Nothing did.
“I’m going,” I said, getting up. Hunter rose like his bones hurt and dragged after me.
“Well, when are you leaving?”
“I don’t know. Tomorrow maybe. The day after. I need to pack up my tools.”
“Don’t go,” Doug said. “Stay for dinner. Or let’s go out, do something fun. We can go to Jane’s.”
It must speak to my mental state that Doug was the one worried about me.
I shook my head. “I’ll call you when I land somewhere.” I paused, looking at my friend. “Thank you. For everything.”
He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t. I turned and walked with Hunter through the rain to my truck. I got in, drenched.