“That’s being human for you,” I say. “It has its definite downsides.”
We let out a shaky, simultaneous breath, and I swell with affection for him. Julian doesn’t push back against my assessment of his readiness, doesn’t try to claim that I’m wrong and that he’s sure, and his self-awareness only intensifies my love for him. I gather him close, draw myself to the tips of my toes to engulf myself in him more completely. It feels so unfair, to have to let him go. To finally feel the fireworks, blockbuster movie kind of love, to finally be seen and cherished and adored, only to have to say,Not yet.
We hold each other for a long time, memorizing the other’s shape.
Julian is the first to pull away. He swallows, pushes his tongue into his cheek, but his gaze is hard with conviction. He holds me at an arm’s length, bending until we are at eye level.
“You’re right,” he says. My favorite words, coming to bite me in the ass. “I have to want this for myself. I have to choose it for me. So I’ll do as you say. I’ll do it without you. And I won’t be so selfish as to tell you to wait for me. But what I will say is that if I do decide that I want to continue living this way, I’ll be back for you. And I don’t care if someone else is already in the picture. They’ll have to find some way to make room.”
I nod. I feel drenched in anguish.
We kiss again, a brief, definitive, hard press of our lips, our unspoken goodbye.
Julian stays behind at the cabin as I hobble back outside. There are two vehicles waiting outside: a glistening black RV and a small Honda Civic. The door to the RV opens, and Winona appears on the stairs, a blanket gathered around her shoulders. Aditya stands uncertainly a few paces from the door, sending her furtive, anxious glances.
“Why the hell are you still here?” I shout, limping toward her. I shoot an accusatory glare at Aditya, who throws his hands up helplessly.
“Don’t look at me,” he says. “Iwanted to dip fifteen minutes ago. She refused to leave without you.”
Winona is a cyclone, her thick, dense curls flying around her like a thundercloud, her face twisted in determination. She takes one step, two, then breaks out into a full sprint and launches herself into my arms. I stagger backward with the force of her embrace.
“I fucking hate you,” she says into my ear. “What the fuck happened in there? Why didn’t you come out? I thought you might have died in there. Where did that woman come from, and why does she look exactly like Rosie? What the fuck happened to Leila? A fuckingbaby?”
Winona has just dropped more f-bombs in the last five seconds than she has for the duration of Sophie’s life, and I loop my arm through hers, rest my head on her shoulder. She’s alive enough to be indignant with me, and this I consider a blessing.
“I’ll explain,” I promise.
“You better,” she warns.
We leave first. Ritika and Aditya swap turns manning the RV with Winona, Sophie, Onix, and me in tow. Julian, Rose, and Leila stay behind. I try to ask what they plan to do with Robbie’s body, and Aditya assures me not to worry,we’re dealing with experts here, and that response reminds me never to ask questions I don’t want to hear the answers to.
I wait until Sophie has drifted off to sleep, her arms and legs wound tight around my dog, then tell Winona everything. She doesn’t interrupt me, just listens intently to a story that sounds so fantastical to my own ears that I almost stop halfway.
When I’m done, she has one question for me: “Are you going to keep seeing him?”
My chest aches, my heartbreak an open wound.
“No,” I say simply.
Winona’s relief is obvious. She drops her elbows onto her knees, drags both hands down her face, then looks up at me again.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
I laugh.
“No,” I say. “But I will be eventually.”
I dream of Julian one last time that night.
We get home eleven hours later, and the city is uncharacteristically still, as if holding vigil for all the things it has lost. My apartment doesn’t feel like it belongs to me, my bed chosen and made by a woman I don’t think exists anymore. I fold beneath the comforter and close my eyes and there Julian is, of course he is, because in the hours since I decided to leave him, he has had complete hold of my thoughts.
“Don’t forget me,” he says. He sits at the foot of my bed, too far for me to reach, and his distance only adds to the torment.
“How could I ever,” I whisper.
And then, as soon as he comes, he is gone, and I don’t dream of him again.
Five YearsLater