Fortuity (Transcend 3)

“What will you say to her when she tells you about the phone? Will you tell her you’ve known?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ll just have to see what feels right in the moment. Now, are you going to tell me why they had a falling out?”

“Are you going to say anything to her if I do tell you?”

“No. All is well with them now. No need to say anything.”

“Okay then. She asked him to follow her on TikTok, and he wouldn’t because he only follows other boys. When she asked why, he expressed his displeasure with girls his age. He said they were annoying. She asked him if he thought she was annoying. He answered like a typical ten-year-old boy … basically picking the wrong time to blurt out his true feelings. And that’s when she loudly declared her hatred for him.”

“Ahh, that explains her request to go home early.”

I slow my pace. “Go home early?”

“Yes. She wouldn’t tell me why she had the outburst. She wouldn’t let me in her room. And she said she wouldn’t come out of her room until I agreed to take her back to Madison earlier.”

“W-well … what did you say?”

“She’s out of her room. What do you think I said?”

I want to vomit. I knew this was coming, just not so soon. It’s like being told you have a year to live and having that reduced to one month without any warning. My heart and my brain have a lot of shit to sort through in preparation for saying goodbye.

“What’s the new departure date?”

“Two weeks.”

Forcing my feet to keep moving, when my knees want to buckle under the news, I nod slowly. “Two weeks,” I whisper because I can barely breathe.

“I thought it was just because of her argument with Gabe—a knee-jerk reaction. Once she started to make her case, and I realized it had very little to do with him, I couldn’t argue with her reasoning.”

Swallowing past the suffocating swelling of emotion in my throat, the blistering ache in my chest, and the nausea swirling in my stomach, I act my age. I act like the mom I now am. “Good for her for articulating her feelings and making a case for what she wants.”

“Yeah …” He sighs with as much believability to his words as I infused into mine. Maybe the most important part of being an adult with a child is the ability to say what needs to be said, the strength to do what needs to be done, and the bravery to smile like it’s not secretly killing you.

“She wants to help choose the house we’re going to buy and have plenty of time to shop for school clothes and supplies. She wants to paint her new room and visit Jenna’s grave. Did I mention my wife was cremated? When Morgan expressed her desire to visit her mom’s grave … as if it will be the most important moment of her life … I didn’t have the heart to tell her. So I bought a plot and headstone. Her dad arranged it several years ago. I haven’t even seen it yet.

“And she wants to spend time with Jenna’s family—her dad and Jenna’s sister and brother. My daughter can’t wait to grow roots in the garden that gave her life. During our eight years abroad, it’s all I wanted—to one day go home and have her embrace the life she can’t remember leaving behind. But …”

I let go of his hand and hug my arms to my body, gaze following my sandy feet. “No buts. It’s a beautiful plan. The perfect end to an incredible, once in a million lifetimes’ journey.”

“You’re the but.”

I grunt a laugh. “I’m not the but. We talked about this.” Here it goes … the responsible adult in me is sucking in a big breath of bravery to say the right thing … to do the right thing.

“We did. And you said you didn’t have the emotional capacity to fall in love with me.”

“Yes. That’s what I said.”

“How has that worked out for you?”

“Fine.”

“Fine? Really?” He steps in front of me, halting my steps. His finger lifts my chin. “Because I’m not fine.”

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

Say the right thing.

Do the right thing.

And paste on that fucking unbearable smile.

Gabe is mine. He is my new world. I had forty-one years to get my shit together, find love, and have two kids, a dog, and goldfish. I couldn’t make it happen. This is my new life, and while I never would have asked for it, or wished for it, I am going to embrace it.

“Twenty-one,” I whisper.

Nate’s eyebrows draw together.

“Brandon took my heart when I was fourteen. He ruined it for every other man when I was twenty-one and in my third year of college. Premed. I wanted to be a cardiologist because Brandon had a heart condition that had no cure. I told him to just hold on, and I would find a way to fix him.” I lift a shoulder and drop it along with my gaze. “He didn’t wait. At the end of the following year, I dropped out of school … I mean, what was the fucking purpose at that point?”