She stood and walked up behind him, her head pounding with the stress of the situation. She had to make him see…
He turned around. “It’s always been about you. About where you can get the best education, where you can move forward in life, what makes you happy. I’d like to be able to get on with my life without having you coming in and out of it any time that it pleases you.”
Libby was shaking her head, willing the words to come out, but they wouldn’t. Tears were coming instead. As they slid down her cheeks, she wiped them with the back of her hand. “You’re wrong.”
Until now, all her life her choices had been made for her. She didn’t get to choose as she watched her daddy drive away and leave her. Her mother had trained her to hate White Stone—she didn’t get to see it with her own eyes growing up. She’d been pushed to compete, to work hard, to please her mother. She’d thought her life had been her choosing, but it hadn’t. Not until now.
“It isn’t about me. It’s about the man I see in you. It’s about Pop. It’s about never missing another birthday or Sunday dinner or boat ride. It’s about being with the people I love.”
“What about everything you’ve said about needing achievement to make you happy? What’s going to happen when you start to miss that? I don’t plan to be around when you decide to walk out again.”
She could see it in his face: the disappointment she’d seen that day when she’d left at eighteen. Was he disappointed in the person she’d become? Maybe she wasn’t even the type of person he wanted to have in his life. As this revelation dawned on her, a hopeless feeling took over, and she scrambled for what to do next. She wanted to be the one person whom he wanted to talk to at night, the one he wanted to spend all his time with, the one he couldn’t live without. She wanted to care for him, help him with Pop, be there for him, love him. “I won’t walk out,” she said, her words uneven and broken from her tears.
“I don’t believe you,” he said quietly, looking out at the trees.
She’d never felt pain like this before. Not when Wade had left or when she’d lost her job. The misery of what she felt right now was something she could barely manage. How would she ever be able to convince him that she wasn’t going to change her mind because there wasn’t anything else in life that she wanted more?
“In your mind, you want this, but you just want it because you can’t have it,” he said, his face becoming rigid. “I don’t think you even really know what you want, Libby, because only a short time ago, all you wanted was to be in New York. Now you want to be here.” He shook his head, his lips pressed into a straight line.
“Don’t tell me what’s in my own mind,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. He didn’t have a clue—clearly—what was in her head. How dare he assume he did! She could feel her knees begin to shake from anger. He looked at her, a ragged, tired expression on his face.
“I have real responsibilities, Libby. Pop depends on me. I need to be with someone I can trust. Someone who pays attention to what I want and need sometimes,” he said. “Life is about compromise, and you’ve never demonstrated even once that you know how to do that.”
He was right. She hadn’t given him any reason to believe that she was capable of that. She’d left. Twice.
“I can’t stop thinking about you and Pop when I’m away from you,” she said, grabbing his arm gently and turning him toward her. “I worry so much about Pop, but I worry about you too. I want to show you that you can depend on me. I know I haven’t given you any indication that you can, but if you’ll just let me show you…” She couldn’t imagine how she had any tears left, but they still came—one after another.
A crew began walking the grounds, picking up the trash left by the townspeople and putting it in bags. A white floodlight illuminated the lawn, and the tiki torches were being extinguished one at a time. She saw it all, but she didn’t care. She stood there next to Pete, their towels still on the grass behind them, praying for some miracle to make him change his mind.
Pretty soon they’d have to leave and she may not have another chance like this—just the two of them—where she could tell him how she felt.
“I love you so much,” she said. “I always have. I’ve made stupid choices to make everyone else happy. And you’re right; I didn’t even really know myself what made me happy. Until I came back and saw you and Pop and your mom—everyone. I realized that being with you makes me happier than a job or an opportunity… anything in the world. I don’t want any of that if I can’t be with you. I don’t care where we live or what job I have because it’s meaningless when you aren’t a part of it. I know I can make you happy because all I want to do is to be there for you and Pop and your family.” She took in a breath and waited. She hung on his every movement—his blinking eyes, the twitch of his fingers—anything to give her a clue as to whether she’d convinced him of her feelings.