Page 7 of The Long Way Home
It doesn’t matter that we haven’t spoken. That there have been two hundred and fifty-three miles and time and silence between us. The second I saw her slip outside alone, my body movedbefore I could think better of it. I physically couldn’t stay away. Some part of me, the stubborn and reckless part, didn’t care how wrong it was.
Since Josh died, I’ve found ways to stay informed without overstepping. I’m the one who left, so it never felt like I had the right to ask her how she was doing directly. Reaching out to her would’ve been unfair. Selfish, even. So I didn’t ask. Well, not her, at least.
Instead, our mutual friends filled in the blanks. Mostly Margo. A photo here. A mention of her job there. Nothing invasive, but enough to make sure she was okay. Every small update was proof she was moving forward while I was stuck exactly where I’d always been.
So, I continued to watch from a distance, tracing the edges of her life. I knew when she started therapy and when she went back to work. I watched her slowly start coming out of that shell just enough to let other people in.
I knew when she started dating Ben.
The night I heard that, I told myself it was good for her. Healthy, even. She deserved someone who could actually give her something real. And then I found myself at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey she’d given me, ten years ago, when Josh and I graduated from college.
I take another swig of my drink. Adam and his wife, Kelly, sit across from me. Next to them is another couple I half-recognize from Margo’s college circle. Lucas, one of the few guys from our college days, is here too. His tie is already loosened while he nurses a beer.
“Rhett, are you still at Station Nine in Nashville?” Lucas leans forward, elbows on the table.
I nod. “I am actually transferring soon.”
Kelly perks up. “That’s the one off Broadway, right? I think you were on the news after that warehouse fire last month.”
Adam grins and points at me. “I knew I recognized you. You were the guy climbing the ladder. Pulled someone out when the place was lit up like a damn bonfire. Dude, that is seriously impressive.”
I glance at my drink, then back at him. “Just did my job. The whole crew was there.”
“Still. That takes guts. I don’t know how you do it.” Adam lets out a low whistle.
I shrug and lift the glass to my lips. “It’s mostly routine. And just making sure you stay focused.”
Lucas adds, eyebrows raised, “Ever scared? I mean, up there, with the flames, the smoke, people depending on you?”
I smirk faintly, shaking my head. “Scared doesn’t get anyone out alive. You have to do your job, and hope you’re fast enough.”
Kelly leans forward. “Do you always stay so calm? That fire looked terrifying on TV.”
“You get used to it. Not the fire itself, but the adrenaline, the chaos. You find techniques to keep yourself calm. Otherwise, you panic, and someone gets hurt.”
Adam grins again. “Sounds like you thrive on the chaos. I’d lose my mind.”
I shrug, hiding the truth behind a casual tone. “Eh, I don’t know about that.”
Kelly glances at me. “So, transferring… where to next?”
“Here, actually,” I answer.
Lucas nods approvingly. “No, shit. You’re moving back?”
“Yeah… I am.”
Rachel’s going to really kill me when she finds out. She is pissed at me; that much is evident. And I can’t really blame her for it. I left her when I left this place, and that is on me. But there is more to that story than anyone knows, especially her. Even though my time away was useless, it was still something I had to do in order for me to be able to stay here.
I didn’t come here to explain it all to her. Frankly, I didn’t come here planning to talk to her. I planned on supporting Margo and Anderson, then figuring the rest of this mess out later. I guess I didn't account for what seeing her with him would do to me.
Admittedly, I don’t know much about Ben. Margo kept the details scarce. What I do know, what I can see with my own two eyes, is how little attention he has given her tonight. It grates on me more than it should. I didn’t brace myself for how hard this would be, watching the woman I once knew better than anyone sit beside a man who doesn’t even see her. He doesn’t deserve to sit that close to her while she wears a dress like that.
I force myself to look away and find Margo and Anderson across the room. They’re making their way to the cake table, where a beautifully tiered confection sits adorned with fresh flowers. Laughter ripples through the crowd as they prepare for the cake-cutting.
Rachel and I haven’t had much of a relationship at all since I left. But I’ve always stayed in touch with Margo. After Josh died, keeping tabs on Margo’s well-being felt like a responsibility I didn’t get to walk away from fully. Someone needed to make sure she was okay, and it was easier for me to be that person than to reach out to Rachel directly to find out how Margo was coping. Reaching out to Rachel would have meant admitting things I wasn’t ready to face.
On a positive note, keeping up with Margo meant I also spent time with Anderson. Not a lot, but enough to know he is solid. Steady. He pays attention when Margo talks and pushes her just enough to step back into the world instead of hiding from it. I can see that he wants what’s best for her, even when it is uncomfortable for him. I’m happy they get their happy ending.
