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More importantly, what would she herself think? She knew that was the only thing that mattered.
Damn it, she didn’t want to waver. She wanted to be strong. Resist the temptation to uproot. Resist taking a chance. She’d already wrecked enough of her life. She’d taken the harder, shittier, far less travelled road. Sometimes loneliness seemed the better, safer option than having to go through the upheaval of another heartbreak. Maybe if she’d been ten years younger the risks wouldn’t have seemed so immense? But now she was older, wiser and scarred, the thought of opening herself up to a fresh onslaught of pain was too much.
She didn’t need to diverge from her path just when the potholes and bumps were lessening. But whenever she closed her eyes, Tavish was standing at the end of the road waiting for her.
Chapter 13
Tavish
January agreed to stop by the house around four. It wasn’t really the dinner hour, but it was roughly when Lily’s class would be over. They’d drop Emma off at her mom’s store, then walk the boys home, and Tavish knew how long that often took. The kids could turn a ten-minute walk into a two hour trek by getting sidetracked along the way. Even on a cold, rainy day, they were all about being outside exploring.
It didn’t matter how early they ate. Tavish hadn’t had a single bite since yesterday afternoon other than the cookie he’d choked down just to make Lily happy. He doubted January had anything more either.
He went through the process of popping a roast into the oven and cutting potatoes, all the while knowing that he wouldn’t enjoy it. He wasn’t a terrible cook, but even if he outdid himself and made the world’s juiciest, tastiest roast, it would probably taste like sawdust.
He’d promised not to say anything about January leaving. The decision to stay had to be hers and she didn’t want to, which made a ton of sense. It was far more irrational to try to make an argument for her staying. He hadn’t said he wouldn’t argue for her coming back, but he wouldn’t do that either. It felt like cheating. If she didn’t stay and didn’t ever come back, could he go to her? Could he live without his friends, his family, and his clan? Be a shifter out in the human world permanently?
It didn’t seem like it was the location that January was most against. It was him. If he went to Phoenix and gave up everything he knew, she’d probably appreciate that gesture even less than his blurting out they were destined for each other.
He sat down at the kitchen table and put his head in his hands. How did Sam and Trace and Thaddius live like this? How did any of them live like this? It was hard being alone, but it was worse finding the one, or thinking that you potentially had. Even if they were with you, the worry that something would happen to take them away from you must be enormous.
He was so lost in his head that he didn’t hear anyone approach until a soft knock sounded on the door.
Tavish leaped up, nearly upset his chair, and stalked frantically to the door. He forced himself to calm down and breathebefore he opened it.
She was there.January.
She was beautiful that morning, in a state of sleeplessness and disarray, but seeing her now, hair even messier, a twinkle in her eyes, the slightest smile on her lips, made his whole body go soft and warm. She hadn’t looked happy just a few hours ago, but her time with Lily and the kids changed that. She stepped closer towards him and he could see the fine lines at the corners of her mouth, etched there by years of smiling.
“Hi,” she said. “I hope I’m not too early.”
“No. Not at all.”
“We didn’t take as long to walk Emma home or the boys as we thought.”
He didn’t unwish meeting January. He didn’t unwish the chaos and havoc that his life had been thrown into. He didn’t wish the strange feelings away, the sensation that his body didn’t even belong to him anymore, that a greater purpose had been hanging over him the entire time and was finally revealed. He didn’t want to fight it, but he didn’t know how to live with it either.
“Will you come in and sit down? The roast won’t be ready for a little while yet, but we could talk and then you could get back to Seattle early. Still not in daylight, but earlier than late.” Wow. That was smooth.
“Sure. Thank you.” She seemed a hundred times more composed than she had been earlier that morning and he was probably a hundred times more flustered.
January didn’t look out of place in his living room. She didn’t mind the plaid couches or the dated coffee and end tables in all their blonde wood glory either.
“You have a nice house.”
“It’s not like Sam’s. I should do the log cabin thing out in the woods, but I guess I’ve always liked living in the middle of everything. Most of that is just log siding.”
“I still like the tongue and groove pine.” She studied the flooring. “And those wide floorboards are amazing. They look aged, they have that lovely patina that comes from decades of polishing.”
“Thank you.” He sat down across from her, on the matching blue and green plaid loveseat. They might have been extreme nineties, but they were in good shape, and they were comfortable. Plus, the couch converted into a bed. For all the company he never had. But you never knew when you needed a spare. His house was small and only had one bedroom, but the living room and kitchen were both decent sizes. It had always suited him fine.
He refused to start thinking of how much of a bachelor pad it must look. He kept it clean, so that wasn’t the regular bachelor style, or so he’d heard and read. If January knew how many modern fiction books he read every month, she’d probably laugh. No, she probably wouldn’t believe it. She could believe in him being half bear, but not in his taste for romance novels.
“I hope this doesn’t break the rules, which are don’t talk to you about staying,” he blurted. He couldn’t stop himself. He’d been thinking about it endlessly ever since the morning. “But I was wondering if I could write to you.”
Her lips twitched. She didn’t seem offended or shut down. Either the cookies earlier hit the spot, or the kids had done wonders. Maybe it was physical activity. Maybe it was Lily. The Greenacre fresh air. Whatever it was, he was thankful for not being stonewalled again. “I appreciate the archaic sentiment. No one writes anymore. Or did you mean text and email?”
“I could do that too, if you prefer.”
