Page 87 of Living at 40

The comment comes back to me. Not that I remember the night or even Autumn trying to kiss me, but I believe I said what I said to protect myself. I hurt her so she couldn’t hurt me, and that’s my underlying fear. One day, she isn’t going to want this distance anymore either. She’s going to want that baby and a man by her side to raise a child, and I can’t do that from here.

“It’s better this way,” I say. I hear her gasp my name through the phone, but without more to say, I hang up. Turning off my phone, I toss it across my office, where it clatters to the floor after hitting the wall. I spin away from the damaged device and glare at my draft table, staring down at a set of drawings for another building I don’t care about in a town I don’t love anymore.

+ + +

“When can we go back to Lakeside?” Lorna asks me two weeks after that fateful phone call.

“Probably not until summer. Why?” I swallow around the thought. Returning to Lakeside would only be torture, knowing Autumn is nearby. Thankfully, summer is months away. I’ve been worried about Ben as he’s been short with me lately, knowing I broke up with Autumn. Mason already called to chew me out for breaking her heart. He has no idea how much mine is broken as well.

“It was only sex,” I cavalierly told him.

“I don’t believe that for a fucking second, and neither do you. And because it’s Autumn we’re talking about, go fuck yourself.”

Mason had no idea how much I felt I already had. For the first time in my life, I had a woman who really wanted me, and I gave her up.

“I don’t want to wait until summer. I have a three-day weekend coming up. I miss Mila. Don’t you miss Autumn?” Lorna pauses. “She hasn’t been back to see us.”

I didn’t discuss what happened between Autumn and me with Lorna. Whenever she’s asked about seeing Autumn, I simply said Autumn was busy, but Lorna’s sharp, and she’s noticed I haven’t been speaking to Autumn every night. Sometimes Lorna would pop into my room and say hi through the video chat. They even started texting one another although I don’t ask if Lorna’s heard from Autumn or vice versa. They developed their own bond that first and only weekend Autumn came here.

“I miss everyone,” I admit. Even that pain in the ass Mason has been on my mind often lately. I’ve been thinking more and more about his business proposal, arguing with myself that I’m forty, and I can’t turn back the clock to fulfill some drunken dream-statement said in college. This isn’t some let’s-get-the-band-back-together revival. We each have our own lives in separate directions.

Four Points.

Yet two points are closer together, and Zack is struggling as well as I am lately with single parenthood. We should be helping one another like those best friends who live in cul-de-sacs and raise their kids with a village mentality.

“We should go there this weekend,” Lorna says, and I look up from the file I’ve been working on at the kitchen island.

“Lorna, we aren’t going anywhere,” I snap.

“You know, since you broke up with Autumn, you’ve been extra crabby.”

I still, staring at my child over the kitchen island. “Who told you we broke up?”

“Mila. She said her aunt is sad. And you’re sad. And I don’t know why you’d do that. I like Autumn.”

“I like Autumn, too.” I love her, but this is for the best.

“Then I don’t understand. Why did you break up with her?”

“It just . . . wasn’t going to work out.”

Lorna’s quiet for a long moment. “Because of me?”

“No. Why would you say that?”

“Because Bethany Simone said her mother broke up with a man because he didn’t like Bethany.”

“Well, Bethany doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Autumn adores you, and it had nothing to do with you.” My voice gives away my frustration.

“Then it was all you?” My eleven-year-old calls me out.

“Fine. Yes, it was all me.”

“Dad, are you being an extra stupid jerk?”

“Hey,” I snap again at her.

“Autumn says extra stupid jerks don’t see beautiful girls before them, and it sounds like you’re not seeing Autumn.”