“I see that now. I thought I’d be able to bury myself in work and could forget, but nothing I do makes me forget. He’s always there, in my thoughts, no matter what time of day.”
“I think you have your answer,” Mom says with a watery smile.
“I can’t quit my job. I just started.”
“Sure you can,” Dad chimes in. “You know Warren will give you a great reference no matter where you’re working. Be open and honest with them. If you’re going to do it, don’t wait. The sooner the better.”
I think about what they’ve said and realize they’re right. I don’t know why I couldn’t see past the idea of what I wanted. It took me until this moment to see that I was leaving behind the only thing I do want.
Mike.
I stand and pull them both into a hug. “Thank you. I love you both. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You let us know what we can do to help,” Mom says.
“Does that man of yours have a place to park an RV?” Dad grins.
I throw my head back and laugh. “Yes, he most definitely does.” After a quick goodbye, and finishing my sandwich at my mother’s insistence, I head home with my mind racing a mile a minute. I have to get things in order.
I decide to text him when I get home instead of calling, afraid he’ll hear the excitement in my voice. I want to surprise him.
Me: Long day. Heading to bed. I miss you.
Me: I love you.
Mike: I miss you and love you too. Sweet dreams, beautiful.
Plugging my phone into the charger, I pull out my notebook and start making a list. I have a lot to do in a short period of time.
It’s Saturday morning and I’m at the bar. I’ve barely left here this week, working all day until closing and going home exhausted, falling into my bed that’s starting to no longer smell like her. I need to wash the sheets, but I can’t make myself do it. I refuse to until I can no longer smell a trace of her. It’s pathetic, but it is what it is.
“Go home,” Liv says, coming into our office.
“No.”
“Mike!” she yells. “Go home. You’ve been living here this week.”
“And? It never bothered you before,” I fire back. I know it’s wrong to lash out at her, but I can’t go home. She’s there everywhere I look, and I can’t take it. Not yet, anyway.
“Fine, go to Mom and Dad’s. Go to see Aaron or Evan. Or hell, David’s at my place. Go there, just leave this bar.”
I hang my head. I can’t go see Aaron because Whitney is there, and Whitney reminds me of Jamie. So do Evan and McKinley, and David. “Every fucking thing, everyone I know, reminds me of her.”
“Then go to Chicago,” she says calmly.
“What?”
“Go to her.”
“How is that going to help?”
“Do you love her?” she asks.
“You know I do.”
“Then you have to sacrifice something.”
“Give up the bar, our legacy?”