None of this is fair, but life isn't fair. Life is hard and dirty for a lot of people, and then there are those that have the world at their fingertips. Why should she give that up?
I can't take her world from her.
Maybe her dad is right? Maybe a guy like me isn't worthy of his daughter. A life with endless possibilities is far more valuable than a path that leads in one direction and has no growth. This is all I'll ever be, a man who works every single day just as hard as the day before.
Millie deserves to grow in a garden with no ceiling. She deserves endless possibilities, and I can never give her that. Luring her down a path with a dead end isn't what I want.
“Millie,” I say, reaching out and touching her shoulder. “It's all right.”
“No, no it's not all right!” she yells.
“It is, everything will be fine.” I take her hand in mine and squeeze it. “Goodbye, Millie,” I say, lifting her hand and kissing the tops of her fingers.
Releasing her hand, her fingers rake across mine as if she doesn't want to let go. Her eyes beg me to stay, but my heart is telling me this is the right thing for her. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how much my heart is breaking having to say goodbye, I want to do right by her.
I climb back into my truck, leaving the bags of cement on the ground, and drive away. Looking in the rearview mirror, all I can see is Millie crying. She's weeping. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and her shoulders are shaking as she steps into the road, watching me go.
It's killing me. It literally feels like my heart has been torn from my chest. There's a gaping hole, leaving me empty inside. This girl made me feel things I've never felt before.
Fuck, I'm going to miss her.
I'll miss the pounding of my heart when she's close. I'll miss the way her hand feels in mine and the sound of her voice. I'll miss her smile, and the way her nose crinkles across the bridge when she laughs. I'll miss the way she looks at me, and how her naked body feels against my skin.
But this isn't about me. This is about her. This is about giving up something I want so she can have something she needs.
They say that sometimes if you love something you need to let it go.
That's what I'm doing, I'm letting Millie go.
I just hope one day she'll be able to see this is the right choice and forgive me. Because I know by the look in her eyes that she isn't ready to see me go.
Forcing my eyes to the road in front of me, I don't look back at her.
She's a memory now. A painful, wonderful memory.
9
Millie
Five days. It's been five days since I watched Hardin drive away. It's been five days since I quit the job at my father's firm. He thinks I just need some time to move past everything, and that I'll eventually come around and see that he's doing what's best for me.
He's wrong. I can feel just how wrong he is, but I also know the power he wields.
Right now, I just want to work in the garden and clear my head. It's calming for me to be outside, to feel the dirt between my fingers, and smell the fresh vegetation. And it sucks my parents can't understand that.
The garden is quiet today, leaving me alone with my thoughts. All I can think about is Hardin. I hate how we left things. I hate that he felt he needed to go. I hate that my father drove him to that point.
I've tried to call him several times and I've sent him so many text messages, but he hasn't returned one. I'm slowly dying inside. I just need some form of closure. This isn't his fault; he didn't do a damn thing wrong.
Then why did he leave?
You know why.
My father will destroy him.
I take my phone out of my back pocket, scrolling until I find his name. I stare at his name for a long second, before hitting the button to call him. I just need to hear his voice, and for him to know I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything.
The phone rings over and over, until his voicemail finally picks up. Letting out a heavy sigh, I hang it up and set my phone down on the wood frame of the garden box.
“Hey, look who is it. How's life now that you work for a bigwig lawyer?” Kelsie drops down beside me, placing her basket and garden tools on the ground.
“I quit, Kel.”
“Already? Your dad's working you that hard that you have to quit already?”