Julia nodded, gave me a hug that I barely felt, then disappeared up the stairs.
"You can leave, too," I said to Mel, pressing my fingertips over my eyelids.
"Yeah, not a chance. I'm making blueberry pancakes then we're getting pedicures. My treat."
"No, thanks," I said, trying to smile, but the fatigue of the past day's events was weighing down my entire body. "Maybe tomorrow. I think I'll just crash."
"You sure?"
I nodded. For a few minutes, Mel argued against leaving, but I was resolute, and finally, I was alone.
Too weary to climb two flights, I curled myself into a ball on the couch, trying very hard to fight back the thing creeping its way into my thoughts. Even if he'd assumed I was asleep, why would that stop him from coming in? From seeing me? I scowled at my phone, which was just sitting there, all void of new messages or calls. I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around my legs, thinking of him, missing him.
That glorious Fourth of July, as Henry and I curled around each other, no official words were declared, no tender confessions divulged. I'd chosen instead to let my actions speak. I thought he felt, knew what I didn't know how to say.
But he hadn't come inside my house. Why?
He'd done this wonderful, magnanimous service to my little college family, and then disappeared. Not calling attention to himself, simply providing a service that only he could.
Spring, I don't know when I'll see you again. Those had been his last words to me. But what did they mean?
As I sat in the dark living room, watching shadows on the walls, it was almost too easy, too obvious to realize I was in love with him, and probably had been for a very long time. Being in love felt different than I thought it would. I wasn't giving up a part of me or sacrificing what I thought I was in order to love him. I'd gained, I'd unfolded … evolved.
This made me smile; in fact, I almost laughed, but my smile broke when I realized there would be no more study sessions at the library, no more vacation trips to Washington, and no more surprise run-ins at his family's house.
Was there anything left?
Chapter 36
"Dart said Henry went back home," Julia relayed. She had most of her color back. Two solid days spent reuniting with the man she loved could do that. We were in her bedroom, she was on the floor inside her closet, reorganizing shoes.
"Oakland?" I asked, lifting my head off her pillow.
"First there, I think, then Montana," she answered.
Well, at least she hadn't said Tahiti. But still, the fact that he could've been in Oakland, so close, and still no phone call, made my heart feel like it was being crushed like a Styrofoam cup.
"So … do you know if he's coming back to school? Classes start in two months."
"I don't know," Julia admitted. "Dart moved back into the house across the street this morning, but I don't know about Henry. I'm not sure Dart does, either."
I was well acquainted with Henry's guarded form of communicating. I wasn't surprised that he hadn't told Julia his plans while they were driving back from Monterey. In all those hours he and I were together at the ranch, I hadn't once asked him if he was returning to Stanford. I hadn't broached the subject of where he'd disappeared to after that last night at the library. For whatever reason, those didn't seem important at the time. They seemed very important now.
"Huh," I replied breezily, trying to blow off this information. But Julia was watching me, and I was positive she could read my eyes. I laid back and covered my face with an arm.
I don't know when I'll see you again. His words rang in my ears.
"Have you called him?" she asked.
I nodded, my throat feeling tight. "I haven't been able to get ahold of him since last spring. He was supposed to give me his new number, but I left the ranch in such a hurry … " I forced my shoulders up into a shrug then let them drop. "So whatever. If he calls, he calls."
"Uh-huh." Skepticism wrapped around Julia's tone.
I sat up and pushed my hair back. "I've been thinking about it, and I decided the whole thing was too sappy. Love and boyfriends and everything. So not me, right?" I forced myself to laugh in the sarcastic manner that used to get me through uncomfortable moments. This time, though, it sounded unnatural, and felt even worse.
"I don't care what you say, Spring. Every girl wants someone to be sweet to her." She sat on the bed next to me. "Even cynics like you."
I knew she was trying to help, but her comment made my chest feel hollow and achy. A short time ago, I didn't know how to love, but now I didn't know how to do without love.
"You're fighting against your feelings, honey," she added. "I know how exhausting that can be. So stop fighting and let it flow."
"Flow?" I echoed, giving her my famous flat eyes.
She lifted a smile and walked toward the door. "Yes. Go with the flow." Just as she was about to leave, she turned back. "Do you want to hang out with us tonight?"
"Thanks, but I don't think so." Honestly, the thought of being around a happy couple was enough to make me cry.
Julia nodded and opened the door.
"Bunny," I called, stopping her. "If I haven't told you, I'm really happy Dart's back and that you're, you know, okay."
"Me too." She folded her arms and leaned against the doorframe. "I made mistakes, but I understand everything that happened now."
I swallowed. "You do?"
She nodded slowly.
"Jules, I didn't know how to tell you what I knew. I'm so-"
"It wasn't Henry's fault," she cut in. "Not really." She looked to the side and exhaled. "Mistakes," she murmured to herself. "I made some, so did Dart. We all do. But now, it's almost like we're better than before because of it." She gazed off for a moment. "Every second we're together, I appreciate him more and more. All that time apart, all that wasted time. I'll never be shy about my feelings again. Life's too short, too precious not to love whenever we can." She bit her lip, blinking back tears. "I learned that the hard way."
"Yeah," I managed to choke out, and then watched her leave the room.
Later that evening, I sat alone on my bed. The sun had set hours ago, but I hadn't moved from my room since Julia left. Downstairs, Anabel was hosting an intimate party for twenty. I bowed out with the excuse about needing to write my congressman.
My room was dim and cool, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside my open window as sounds from the sidewalks below drifted up. The moon was high and Stanford's summer populace was alive and ripe.
My fingers clasped behind my head and I stared up at the ceiling. Thinking. Trying not to think. The night grew darker as evening progressed. When I rolled over, my gaze moved naturally to the open window. Just knowing his house, his empty bedroom, was across the street crushed my Styrofoam heart anew. I quadruple-checked the ringer on my phone. Never before had I experienced such a lack of control over my thoughts.
Spring, I don't know when I'll see you again.
The intellectual part of me had no desire to keep mulling over the possible meaning of Henry's last statement, so I forced it out. But with no other occupation, my thoughts did wander around the memory of the sound of his laugh … how we'd laughed together, how I admired his mind, loved his music, how he'd kissed my braid-one of the sweet ways he showed his acceptance and respect. The way he pushed my buttons just to make me laugh at my own reaction. How he dealt with me and handled me and let me go it alone, yet never took my crap.
The way he truly was so very good.
With my eyes closed, I imagined us in some future setting … whispering in the dark, sharing a pillow, asking how the other slept.
I drifted to the window and knelt down, resting my elbows and chin on the sill. The cool night air felt nice. "He'll be back," I whispered. "I know he'll be back." Just saying the words aloud made me feel slightly better, as if my faith in us was enough. He'd had faith in us for all those months, and now it was my turn.
I listened to the happy hums of the world below. As the breeze picked up and knocked the blinds against the side of the window, I opened my eyes, their gaze idly drifting across the street.
What they landed on made my blood stop cold. I blinked, sharpening my focus.
Parked crooked in his driveway was …
My Subaru.
I sprung out the third-story window, sliding down the ladder as fast as I could.