Page 130 of Any Port in a Storm

“I’m not sure I’d say that.”

“No, but I would,” I argue, looking at the floor to avoid being impacted by how badly I want to bury myself in his arms. “And it feels like it’s getting in the way of what matters most.”

His face falls. “And what is that, exactly?”

“Our work,” I say. How does he not already know that?

Nick’s eyes flash. “My work isn’t more important to me than this.”

“Look,” I try again. “I’m feeling pretty confused right now. And our relationship is creating issues for my career.”

“I’m really sorry about that,” he tells me. “Want me to talk to Spillinger for you?”

I shake my head. “What I want…well, what I think I need…is to separate the issues.”

He wrinkles his brow. “What?”

“You know, like when you’re driving. If there’s a garbage can in the road, and two hundred yards later, there’s a kid on the bike, you deal with the first one, then the other. It’s prioritization.”

“Okay?”

“I think I need to focus on fixing things with my work. So I can still graduate. So none of that gets messed up.”

All the color rushes from his face.

“What are you saying, Laurel?”

My chin wavers. This is harder than I thought. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

His gaze flicks up to mine. “Too late.”

“I can’t ruin everything I’ve worked for, Nick.”

“I think you can have both,” he says, voice pleading. “Let me help you fix things, okay?”

“I…I think I need to be on my own for a little while.”

His expression is wild. “Please don’t do this.”

Grief rattles out of me. “This is what I need right now.”

Time stands still then as we face off over my welcome mat. I feel the heartbreak rushing in to fill every cell in my body. Nick looks like he’s going to crumple to the floor.

“Okay,” he manages shakily. “I have to go. I can’t…” He wipes his eyes. “I have to go.”

My voice wobbles. “I’m so sorry, Nick.”

“Yeah.” He looks back over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, too.”

Then the door slams shut and he’s gone.

THIRTY-SEVEN

now

The night of the memorial, I take a long shower, my mind racing over everything the last twelve hours has brought. The grief, the loss. The healing. The way Nick’s carefully practiced talent of showing up for others is starting to rub off on me.

I like showing up for him.