I know you probably hate me so much right now. You have every right to. Leaving seems selfish, I know, but I’m doing this for you. For us. For a chance that maybe one day we’ll have a future together. One where we’re free to love in the light, and we don’t have to hide.
Things are getting more than complicated—it’s downright impossible to hide my feelings for you. Someone is going to find out and I know I could handle the consequences, but I don’t want you to have to bear that burden. I know you’d blame yourself, even though this is on me. I refuse to say it’s my fault, because to me saying there’s any fault in the love we have is like saying the feelings aren’t actually real.
I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. You’re the woman who was meant to be mine. I don’t know why it’s you, or me for you, but it is and I’m so glad. I hate that I have to leave you, and I realize I’m taking a huge risk, one where you may not ever be able to forgive me, but because I love you I’m willing to take the chance.
You need to grow without me. I see that clearly and it kills me because I want to be with you more than anything. You’re not dealing with your trauma the way you should and I’m worried you’re using me as a Band-Aid. I want you to get better, let go of your past, but I see now that I’m not the person that can help you do that. It’s why I have to go. You have your wings, Dani. Use them to soar.
You’re brilliant, amazing, beautiful, and strong.
Don’t be so hard on yourself.
I feel like I’m not making sense. Frankly, my thoughts are everywhere. I don’t want to leave you. The scent of you still clings to my pillow. I want it to stay there forever. I want to wake up to the sight of you in bed beside me. I want to laugh with you in the kitchen. I want to watch movies together. I want to marry you. I want to have babies with you. I want everything with you.
If you think for a minute me leaving is because I don’t love you, you’ll know that’s not true. It’s because I love you too much—enough to let you go, to give you the room to grow.
I only hope you’ll come back to me.
But if you don’t, I understand that too.
I love you, Dandelion Meadows.
You’re my sunshine.
—Lachlan
My tears sprinkle the paper, making the ink run in some places.
Beneath his name is a bunch of random numbers I don’t understand.
I rub my fingers over the numbers, wondering what they mean.
4.22.21 47.6205 122.3493
Somehow, I know in my gut, they’ll lead me back to him.
But Lachlan’s right, I need to better myself, and I have to do it on my own.
Chapter Seventy-Eight
The grass crunches with morning frost beneath my feet, a steady drizzle falling from the sky like it’s weeping.
Mud sticks to my sneakers and I’m sure if anyone could see me I look like a complete weirdo trekking through the cemetery at the early morning hour in my jeans and raincoat with the hood pulled up, flowers cradled in my arms.
My plane landed in Portland yesterday and I slept for fifteen hours in the hotel I booked. As soon as I woke up and showered, I headed out, wanting to do what I have to do before I catch my flight to Utah in a few hours.
The taxi idles near the cemetery’s entrance, waiting to drop me off at the airport once I finish here. I should stop in and visit my grandparents, perhaps even drive by my childhood home, but I purposely wanted to make this a quick visit so I didn’t go into a full-blown panic.
I see the gravestone up ahead. I’ve only been here once. Sage brought me before we flew to Utah, ironic that I’m visiting now and doing the same thing. I didn’t get to go to her funeral, not with being in the hospital at the time, but it doesn’t keep the guilt from nagging at me. My limp becomes heavier, my leg throbbing and I don’t know whether it’s from the rain or the memories.
Stopping in front of it, my lower lip trembles.
Laurel Meadows.
Loving Mother and Wife.
I trace my fingers over her name, tears pouring from my eyes.
“Hi, Mom. I’m sorry it took me so long to visit. The last two years have been rough.” I lower my head, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “I haven’t handled things the best, but I’m going to try now. I’m going to be better. Sage says you’d be proud of me, but I’m not so sure. I’m going to try my best.” I lay the bouquet on her gravestone, holding onto the seven other individual flowers I bought as well. “I fell in love, Mom. With someone I shouldn’t have, but it happened anyway. Despite the age difference and … other things, I know you’d love him. He’s wonderful. I … I don’t know if things will work out between us, but I know I’ll never regret loving him. I lost myself, but I’m finding my way back and he helped. It’s up to me to do the rest, so that’s what I’m going to do. I love you, Mom.” I kiss my fingers, placing them against the cold wet stone.