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“You sure? It’d probably give people something to talk about for a month.”
“That wouldn’t be good for you, would it?”
He shrugs. “I’ve never cared what people say about me.”
“That’s okay. I just…I think I’d better go. It’s easier that way.” I stand, grab my bags, and step down from the front porch. “Bye, Ty. Take care of yourself.”
“Wait,” he says. He grabs my arm and turns me to face him. “Are you going to be okay? Will you be happy?”
“Yeah,” I tell him. “If you’ll be happy, then I’ll be happy.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “If you promise to smile every day, to be a good dad and still sleep in the dirt and wake up with the sun sometimes, then I’ll be happy. If you smile when you think of me, then I’ll be happy…for you.”
“I can do all of that,” Ty says, his own voice breaking. “Come here.”
He pulls me into another hug and kisses me on top of my head. “I love you, Mel,” he says.
“I love you, too.”
“We messed up bad, didn’t we?”
“I’d fix it if I could.”
“It’s okay,” he says. “When the world recycles us and spits us back out, we’ll try again. We’ll do better next time.”
“I will do better,” I tell him. “I promise.”
He pulls back and takes my hand in his. “This is yours,” he says, and I realize he’s given me my ring back before I open it. “I gave it to you. I want you to have it.”
“Thank you,” I tell him.
“I'm still your friend. You still know where to find me, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And you look beautiful. I’m sorry I told you I didn’t like your hair. I didn’t mean it.”
I laugh just a little. “It’s okay.”
“Okay,” he says, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Bye, Princess.”
“Bye.”
He helps me put the suitcase in the back, then hugs me one last time, and I get into my car. I watch in my rearview mirror as he does the same, weeping for the loss as he drives away.
After a few minutes pass, I reach behind my neck and unhook the latch on my necklace, letting the letter ‘A’ charm roll off and into my hand. I slip the ring onto the gold chain instead, then replace it. I run my fingers over it and examine it in the mirror before putting the car in reverse and leaving town.
This time when I leave, I know it’s for good, and it’s on purpose. There’s nothing left for me here. I can’t ever go home.
I don’t turn on the radio on the drive back; I don’t need to. It’s already quiet.
It’s late evening on Christmas Eve when I pull into the garage at James’s townhome. I realize that Emma’s recital would be going on right now, and silently wish her well before going upstairs.
I never even got to say goodbye.
When I get inside, James is sitting on the sofa in the dark watching television. He must know I’m there; surely, he heard the door open and close, but his gaze remains fixed on the screen in front of him.
