Page 120 of I Hope This Finds You Well

Cliff nods.

“And you firing me—all of it was the right thing to do, obviously.” I stay very still. “But you need to know, you weren’t part of a list. It was all real. I really cared about you.”

I exhale. There. Done. Now we can close things out on neutral terms. But the softness behind his gaze pours into me. I let out a breath, willing my heart to keep quiet.

“I know...” Cliff swallows. “Jolene, I care about you too.”

I clench my teeth together. I won’t let his words sink into me. It’s not worth the pain.

The look in his eyes threatens to make me feel it all again.

Cliff’s shoulders square. “You were right about me too, what you told me in the car. I was scared to leave Supershops. I still am.”

I want to tell him to stop it—to stop reminding me of the conversations we shared, of feeling understood.

“You helped me see what I couldn’t about myself,” he continues. “I deserve to choose a life that makes me happy. So I’m going back to my old company.”

I was doing a pretty good job at not letting myself hope, but as soon as he says this, I realize I’ve failed utterly.

He’s really going.

“Cliff, that’s wonderful.” Both my smile and my words are real. He deserves this.

His eyes widen. “I know things are messy, but we brought out a lot of good in each other too. I don’t want to end things like this. Maybe we can stay in touch?”

“You still want to be friends?”

He rubs his beard, and the scent of his soap carries toward me. It would all be so blissful to just be there with him, instead of alone here forever. But he continues. “We could try. As long as, this time, we’re completely honest with each other.”

But all the flutters come crashing down—it hits like a brick wall. He’s leaving, and I’m a mess. I’m no good for anyone right now.

I stare at my floor, not wanting to say the words I know I need to. Finally, I speak. “Cliff, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The words settle between us, heavy. I gaze around at my mess and wonder how I was ever able to exist in the world as the person that I am.

“But thank you,” I mutter, voice tight. “For the donuts and for showing me there’s good in the world.”

“Thereisgood in the world, Jolene. You deserve the good—you deserve happiness.”

His words tug at me and tighten my throat.

Cliff tilts closer. “Promise me you won’t punish yourself forever?”

I nod and hold it all in. After a beat I say, “How about I promise to try?”

His smile is sad. “In that case, I wish you the best in all your future endeavors.”

I smile back. “You too.”

And as he walks toward my door, away from me for good, I know I mean it.

I want the best for him.

Cleaning Up

After Cliff leaves, it’s like a closed chapter: nothing from that job or those people can hurt me again, not if I don’t want it to. The last gin bottle, taking a break on the coffee table, stares me down.

Is it already time to start drinking again? I’ve had my coffee.