“Can you give me your number, please?”
I recited my cell number for her, and she said she’d get back to me. I wondered if it would be a while and contemplated going back outside, but it was only about thirty seconds before my phone vibrated. The number on the screen was not the one I’d just called.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Dallas? This is Emme.”
“Hey, Emme. Thanks for calling me back.”
“No problem. My office called and said something about an urgent matter regarding Maren?”
“Yes.” I exhaled. “I’m trying to contact her.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Because I made a horrible mistake, letting her go.”
Silence. “I’m listening.”
I closed my eyes. “I want her back.”
“Why did you do it?” she asked. “Why did you break her heart like that?”
“Several reasons, all of which seemed valid at the time, but none of which matter to me anymore.”
“They matter to me,” she said. “So if you want me to help you get in touch with Maren, you better spill them.”
“Okay,” I agreed, and launched into the story. I told her everything, taking her on the journey from Portland to Detroit to Boston and back again. It was embarrassing and uncomfortable and really fucking awkward at times, but she was right—if I expected her to help, I had to make it clear what this meant to me.
“So the stuff you told her in the car last Sunday night was all bullshit?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“And you really have loved her all this time?”
“Yes.”
“And you want to be with her now?”
“More than anything.”
“Wow, Nate was right.”
I had no idea what she meant by that. “I’m sorry?”
“Never mind. But Dallas, do you think she should trust you again, after what you did to her?”
I sighed, my eyes closing briefly. “I know it’s going to be hard. But yes, she should. I’m going to do everything I possibly can to earn it back.”
“Good.” Then she surprised me with a long sigh. “This is so romantic. I really want it to happen.”
“Do you think it can? Has she gotten my calls and messages the last two days?” I asked desperately.
“No. That I can tell you for sure. She’s been at some yoga retreat place where you have to completely unplug and live like forest nymphs or something.”
Relief, pure and powerful, washed over me. “When will she be back?”
“Not until tomorrow.”
“Oh.” I was due at the hospital at six in the morning. Disappointment pressed heavily on me, and I lowered myself to the bed. “Okay.”
“You said the surgery is tomorrow too, right?”
“Right. I was kind of hoping to talk to her before I went in, but … that might not be possible.” I felt like crying.
“I’m sorry, Dallas.”
“It’s my own fault.”
Emme was silent for a moment. “When she gets back, I’ll talk with her. I can’t promise anything, because she was so angry and heartbroken, but I’ll try.”
“Thanks.” I swallowed hard. “Is she … okay?”
“No. She’s a mess, Dallas. She blames herself for falling for you. She thinks she deserves a broken heart for trusting you again.”
It was like a knife to the gut. I had no words.
“She went to this retreat place to recover some sense of self-worth, I think. Find her balance again. You really wrecked her.” Then she sighed. “But I do love a second-chance romance. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re being sincere about your feelings for her. So I’ll do what I can.”
“Thank you.” I barely got the words out.
“You’re welcome. And good luck tomorrow, okay?”
“Thanks.”
We hung up, and I flopped back on the bed. My head ached, and my heart was in a million pieces, but I’d done all I could.
Now it was up to her.
Twenty-One
Maren
The knock surprised me.
It was Thursday evening at the retreat center, my last night there, and not once all week had anyone disturbed me in my room. I’d returned from the evening guided meditation session and was getting ready for bed when I heard the soft knock. I opened the door and found a retreat employee, a young woman, standing there.
“Yes?” My throat was scratchy and I cleared it. I hadn’t had a real conversation with anyone in four days. The silence was supposed to make it easier to find clarity and hear your inner voice, and although I was feeling slightly calmer than when I’d arrived, my inner voice had stayed quiet. I didn’t feel as though I’d resolved anything. I still cried myself to sleep, I still missed Dallas, and I was still having the nightmare almost every night.
“I’m so sorry to bother you,” the employee said quietly, “but there was an urgent message for you to call your sister, Emme.”
I panicked. “Okay, thank you. I’ll call right away.”
I shut the door and flew to my suitcase, where I dug out my phone. I hadn’t looked at it since I got off the plane in Bangor on Monday, and frankly, I hadn’t even missed it.
Quickly I plugged it in, and when it came on, I called Emme. She answered right away.
“Maren?”
“Is everyone okay?” I asked frantically. “What’s going on?”
“Everyone is okay,” Emme said. “And I’m sorry to disturb you on your retreat.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh jeez, now I don’t know if I did the right thing.”
“Emme.” I touched two fingertips to my temple. “Please.”
She sighed. “Okay, but if you’re mad at me for this, I only did it because I thought you’d want me to. Well, and because it’s romantic, but—”
“Emme. I’m really not supposed to be on the phone or talking at all here.”
“You can’t talk there? That’s weird. Why not? I mean, I get the thing about unplugging from technology, but talking? Human to human? What’s wrong with that?”
Suddenly I appreciated the atmosphere of silence more than ever. “Because it encourages us to spend time within ourselves.”
“Is it helping you?”
“Some.”
“Well, good. Before you go back inside yourself, though, I just thought you might want to know that Dallas is trying to get in touch with you.”
My heart stopped. “He is?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he called me at work.”
“He did?” A wave of dizziness came over me, and I sat on my bed.
“Yeah. He said he’s called and left messages for you.”
“But why?”
“I think you need to hear it from him.”
“Tell me.”
“Gah, I didn’t want to do this. But I’m afraid if I don’t, you won’t talk to him.”
I took a deep breath.
“He loves you, Maren.”
“No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t love anybody. He told me that, remember?”
“He lied to you.”
“What?” The room was spinning. “Why?”
“Because he’s a man, and when men get feelings with a capital F, they act like idiots with a capital I. They make terrible decisions and do all the wrong things. In their caveman minds, it all makes sense somehow. But he loves you. He told me so.”
“He told me a lot of things. Doesn’t make them true.”
“Look, just talk to him. Or at least read his messages.”
“You know what, I don’t even want to read his messages, Emme. Like you said, he lies. And I’ve fallen for too many of them already.”
“Okay, then don’t. I only thought you might like to know because he’s having that surgery tomorrow. I felt like if there was anything you wanted to say to him, you might want to say it now.”
“I’ve said everything I want to say to him already,” I said bitterly. I wouldn’t be guilted into playing the fool again. He’d made his choice. “And I’ve heard all I need to hear.”
I recited my cell number for her, and she said she’d get back to me. I wondered if it would be a while and contemplated going back outside, but it was only about thirty seconds before my phone vibrated. The number on the screen was not the one I’d just called.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Dallas? This is Emme.”
“Hey, Emme. Thanks for calling me back.”
“No problem. My office called and said something about an urgent matter regarding Maren?”
“Yes.” I exhaled. “I’m trying to contact her.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Because I made a horrible mistake, letting her go.”
Silence. “I’m listening.”
I closed my eyes. “I want her back.”
“Why did you do it?” she asked. “Why did you break her heart like that?”
“Several reasons, all of which seemed valid at the time, but none of which matter to me anymore.”
“They matter to me,” she said. “So if you want me to help you get in touch with Maren, you better spill them.”
“Okay,” I agreed, and launched into the story. I told her everything, taking her on the journey from Portland to Detroit to Boston and back again. It was embarrassing and uncomfortable and really fucking awkward at times, but she was right—if I expected her to help, I had to make it clear what this meant to me.
“So the stuff you told her in the car last Sunday night was all bullshit?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“And you really have loved her all this time?”
“Yes.”
“And you want to be with her now?”
“More than anything.”
“Wow, Nate was right.”
I had no idea what she meant by that. “I’m sorry?”
“Never mind. But Dallas, do you think she should trust you again, after what you did to her?”
I sighed, my eyes closing briefly. “I know it’s going to be hard. But yes, she should. I’m going to do everything I possibly can to earn it back.”
“Good.” Then she surprised me with a long sigh. “This is so romantic. I really want it to happen.”
“Do you think it can? Has she gotten my calls and messages the last two days?” I asked desperately.
“No. That I can tell you for sure. She’s been at some yoga retreat place where you have to completely unplug and live like forest nymphs or something.”
Relief, pure and powerful, washed over me. “When will she be back?”
“Not until tomorrow.”
“Oh.” I was due at the hospital at six in the morning. Disappointment pressed heavily on me, and I lowered myself to the bed. “Okay.”
“You said the surgery is tomorrow too, right?”
“Right. I was kind of hoping to talk to her before I went in, but … that might not be possible.” I felt like crying.
“I’m sorry, Dallas.”
“It’s my own fault.”
Emme was silent for a moment. “When she gets back, I’ll talk with her. I can’t promise anything, because she was so angry and heartbroken, but I’ll try.”
“Thanks.” I swallowed hard. “Is she … okay?”
“No. She’s a mess, Dallas. She blames herself for falling for you. She thinks she deserves a broken heart for trusting you again.”
It was like a knife to the gut. I had no words.
“She went to this retreat place to recover some sense of self-worth, I think. Find her balance again. You really wrecked her.” Then she sighed. “But I do love a second-chance romance. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re being sincere about your feelings for her. So I’ll do what I can.”
“Thank you.” I barely got the words out.
“You’re welcome. And good luck tomorrow, okay?”
“Thanks.”
We hung up, and I flopped back on the bed. My head ached, and my heart was in a million pieces, but I’d done all I could.
Now it was up to her.
Twenty-One
Maren
The knock surprised me.
It was Thursday evening at the retreat center, my last night there, and not once all week had anyone disturbed me in my room. I’d returned from the evening guided meditation session and was getting ready for bed when I heard the soft knock. I opened the door and found a retreat employee, a young woman, standing there.
“Yes?” My throat was scratchy and I cleared it. I hadn’t had a real conversation with anyone in four days. The silence was supposed to make it easier to find clarity and hear your inner voice, and although I was feeling slightly calmer than when I’d arrived, my inner voice had stayed quiet. I didn’t feel as though I’d resolved anything. I still cried myself to sleep, I still missed Dallas, and I was still having the nightmare almost every night.
“I’m so sorry to bother you,” the employee said quietly, “but there was an urgent message for you to call your sister, Emme.”
I panicked. “Okay, thank you. I’ll call right away.”
I shut the door and flew to my suitcase, where I dug out my phone. I hadn’t looked at it since I got off the plane in Bangor on Monday, and frankly, I hadn’t even missed it.
Quickly I plugged it in, and when it came on, I called Emme. She answered right away.
“Maren?”
“Is everyone okay?” I asked frantically. “What’s going on?”
“Everyone is okay,” Emme said. “And I’m sorry to disturb you on your retreat.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh jeez, now I don’t know if I did the right thing.”
“Emme.” I touched two fingertips to my temple. “Please.”
She sighed. “Okay, but if you’re mad at me for this, I only did it because I thought you’d want me to. Well, and because it’s romantic, but—”
“Emme. I’m really not supposed to be on the phone or talking at all here.”
“You can’t talk there? That’s weird. Why not? I mean, I get the thing about unplugging from technology, but talking? Human to human? What’s wrong with that?”
Suddenly I appreciated the atmosphere of silence more than ever. “Because it encourages us to spend time within ourselves.”
“Is it helping you?”
“Some.”
“Well, good. Before you go back inside yourself, though, I just thought you might want to know that Dallas is trying to get in touch with you.”
My heart stopped. “He is?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he called me at work.”
“He did?” A wave of dizziness came over me, and I sat on my bed.
“Yeah. He said he’s called and left messages for you.”
“But why?”
“I think you need to hear it from him.”
“Tell me.”
“Gah, I didn’t want to do this. But I’m afraid if I don’t, you won’t talk to him.”
I took a deep breath.
“He loves you, Maren.”
“No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t love anybody. He told me that, remember?”
“He lied to you.”
“What?” The room was spinning. “Why?”
“Because he’s a man, and when men get feelings with a capital F, they act like idiots with a capital I. They make terrible decisions and do all the wrong things. In their caveman minds, it all makes sense somehow. But he loves you. He told me so.”
“He told me a lot of things. Doesn’t make them true.”
“Look, just talk to him. Or at least read his messages.”
“You know what, I don’t even want to read his messages, Emme. Like you said, he lies. And I’ve fallen for too many of them already.”
“Okay, then don’t. I only thought you might like to know because he’s having that surgery tomorrow. I felt like if there was anything you wanted to say to him, you might want to say it now.”
“I’ve said everything I want to say to him already,” I said bitterly. I wouldn’t be guilted into playing the fool again. He’d made his choice. “And I’ve heard all I need to hear.”
