I was so angry my hand shook as I gripped my coffee. My heart raced. And my jaw worked overtime grinding my teeth.
“Are you done?” he asked, looking completely unaffected by my long spiel.
I stood. “I think we’re done.”
Fisher’s gaze fell from me to his coffee cup, and after a few seconds, he nodded, pulling on his jacket and sliding his gloves onto his fingers.
I didn’t mean it. I was just so mad and so hurt. And tired. Rory was right. I was emotionally spent for the next hundred years. Why didn’t he have a defense? One single comeback or explanation for his actions? Why couldn’t he at least lie to me, show a little desperation like the idea of us ending affected him? Was it because everything I said was true? Did he not have a defense? Did he want things to end between us?
“I’ll take you home.” He took my hand to lead me to the door, and I yanked it away. Falling in the snowy parking lot would have been less painful than enduring another second of him touching me after touching her.
Fisher had the nerve to give me a little flinch, like he was scarred by my gesture. I brushed past him to the door and trekked through the snow to his truck.
When he pulled into my driveway and put the truck in Park, he turned toward me. “Am I him?”
I grabbed the door handle and gave him a slow glance. “Who?”
“Your first love? You told me he wasn’t ready to be found. And you call me your lost fisherman. Am I him? Did you fall in love with me? Am I the schmuck who wouldn’t take your virginity even after you offered it?”
That moment was the very reason I never told him about us. It was a terrible feeling to be so emotionally exposed without an ounce of recognition. I didn’t want the “did you love me?” I wanted the “I loved you, and I remember it. Every feeling. Every moment. Every single emotion.”
I opened the door and spoke the only truth I knew for certain at the moment. “I will never regret not giving you my virginity.” I jumped down and shut the door, not looking back for a single second.
As soon as I opened the door, Rory and Rose were right there. They’d been watching out the window. And while they had no idea what had been said between us, the look on my face must have said everything.
“I’m sorry,” Rory’s brow wrinkled as she took a step forward with open arms.
I couldn’t take any steps. All I could do was fall into hundreds of pieces and hope my mom could catch all of them.
I thought we were strong enough to make it through.
I thought it was finally our time.
I thought wrong.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Babies made everything better.
On the one hand, they reminded me of the life I wanted for myself, the life I’d imagined with Fisher. But they were also symbolic of transition, transformation, moving forward. A reminder that we are such tiny parts of something so much bigger.
How many babies were created from a love that died? Yet they moved forward. Love can live in small ways even after it dies. Fisher nudged me, he shifted my journey in life. And while we didn’t have a tiny human to show for our love, I was a nurse and a midwife in training because I met Fisher Mann, and he was the reason I went with Brendon. Had he been the one to take my virginity, I wouldn’t have had the strength to leave.
Fisher's love led me to a job I loved. A purpose that meant something to me. A feeling of accomplishment and unfathomable personal satisfaction. And I could hate him for a lot of things, but I couldn’t regret us or all the reckless moments that sent us spinning in a whirlwind of passion and love.
Love. It was love.
I knew it always would be love. A tragic love, but nonetheless love.