Someone You Love by Kristen Granata

Charly

Nana’s heels clack in the dining room, and I jump away from the door.

Confusion swirls around me, my chest squeezing so tight I fight for my next breath.

Bryce doesn’t want to be with me?

Aside from the hiccup at the café today, I thought we had a great day together. I thought everything was fine. I thought ... I thought we’d continue whatever this is after I leave.

Nothing I just heard between them in the hallway makes sense.

I rush through dinner, and then my legs carry me out of the inn as fast as they can. I find Bryce on the porch swing out back. Edward spots me before he does, and the tags on his collar jingle as he wags his tail. My heart pounds faster with every step I take.

Bryce lifts his tired eyes to me when I reach the ramp. “Hi, gorgeous.”

I try to play it cool, but the words come tumbling out of my mouth before I can stop them. “What were you talking to Beatrice about in the hallway before?”

His brows dip down. “What?”

“Tell me the truth, Bryce. What did you mean when you said you were going to make it easy for me?”

Shock flashes in his eyes. “You were eavesdropping?”

“That’s not the point, and you know it.” My fists ball at my sides, and I will my voice not to shake as I push out the words. “Please. Tell me what you meant. Tell me I misunderstood. Tell me I’m wrong.”

He shoves both of his hands through his hair, and I count the seconds until he speaks. But each passing moment of silence only solidifies what he isn’t saying.

My shoulders fall. “You’re ending things between us.”

He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, refusing to meet my eyes. “I didn’t want to do this now.”

His words have the force of a slap. “When were you going to tell me? When were we going to have this conversation?”

“It’s not a conversation, Charly.”

Another shockwave ripples through me. “Oh, so you were just going to say goodbye and then never speak to me again? Let me leave thinking everything is fine, and then break my heart?”

“It’s for the best. You just can’t see it yet.”

“But you can? You’re a fortune teller now?”

He rolls his eyes. “Charly, don’t—”

“Don’t what?” I inch forward, stabbing my finger in the air. “Weren’t you the one telling your grandmother how she shouldn’t make decisions for you? How she should ask you what you want? Yet here you are, telling me what’s best for me.”

“It’s not the same.”

My bottom lip trembles like the ground during an earthquake, leading a tidal wave of tears surging toward my eyes. “Did I do something? Did I misread the way you feel about me, because I thought we were on the same page?”

“No.” He pushes to his feet, and clutches my hands, finally snapping out of the apathetic state. “You didn’t do anything.”

My jaw clenches, and I yank myself out of his reach. “Then what is going on? I don’t understand.”

His willpower snaps. “Look at your new bucket list, Charly! I won’t be able to go sky diving with you. I won’t be able to go rock climbing. There are some things in life I’ll never be able to do, and if I end up back in a wheelchair, the list will be even longer. I’ve come to terms with that. I’ve had time to cope, and adjust to my life as a disabled person. But you’ve only known me for a short while. You don’t know what it’s like living with a lifelong injury. And you don’t have to. I don’t want you to feel like I’m holding you back. I don’t want you to resent me one day for the things I can’t do.”

My eyes widen. “You think I’d resent you?”

“That’s just how it goes with people.”

“People.” I choke out a bitter laugh. “I’m being lumped in with everyone in your past.”

“It doesn’t make you a bad person. It’s reality. My reality.”

“You’re not even giving me a chance to prove you wrong.”

“I’m doing this for you. You can’t see it now, but one day you will. I’m saving us both the heartache.”

“No.” I shake my head, my hair swatting me in the face with the force of my adamance. “You’re doing this for you. You’re afraid of getting hurt again, so you’re nipping it in the bud before you’re too invested.” I throw my hands in the air. “But I’m already too invested, Bryce. I—”

“You don’t think I am? You have no idea how this feels for me.”

“Then how can you walk away from this?”

His lips press together. “I’m not walking away. I’m letting you go.”

My heart splits down the middle, like it’s been sliced by a sharp knife. “And what if I don’t want to go?”

“You will eventually. Everyone does.”

I throw my hands into the air. “I’ve been cheated on. I’ve been betrayed. My own father left me. I know it hurts. I know how it feels to be abandoned when you need someone the most.” I lift my hands, and let them fall, smacking against my thighs. “But that doesn’t mean everyone will do what they did. I still have hope that I’m worth enough to someone to stay.”

His jaw works under his skin, and he turns his gaze toward the pool. “You will find the kind of man you deserve.”

“I thought that man was you.” Tears spill down my cheeks as every memory we made this summer slams into me at once. “You said you were mine.”

“I am yours. My heart belongs to you.” His throat bobs, his voice hoarse. “I just wish you could be mine too.”

“I already am.” I press my palms against his chest, the contact that once soothed me now scorching my skin. “Why can’t you see that?”

He holds my gaze for a brief moment, and I hold my breath on a silent plea.

Please, Bryce. Please see me.

But he shakes his head, and moves away, putting distance between us.

I wrap my arms around my midsection, trying to hold it together just a little bit longer, not wanting him to see me fall apart.

My whole life, all I’ve wanted was for the people I loved to stay.

I glance down at Edward.

Then I freeze.

“Bryce, where’s Edward?”

“He’s right—” Bryce gestures toward the porch swing. “He was lying right under my feet.”

I crouch down, craning my neck under the swing. “Edward, you there, bud?”

Bryce moves down the ramp toward the pool. “Edward.”

I strain to hear the jingling of his collar, but silence meets my ears. “Bryce, where is he?”

“The door is closed, so he couldn’t have gone inside the house. Maybe he had to pee.” He heads toward the front of the inn, and I follow behind him.

I slap my palms against my thighs, the gesture that always makes Edward gallop into my lap. “Edward. Come to mommy.”

We search the property, calling for our dog.

“Maybe he’s with Nana.” Bryce stops, and turns to face me. “I’ll check inside, and you search the backyard again.”

I nod, and bolt back into the yard. “Edward, come on, bud. Where are you hiding?” My eyes bounce from the lounge chairs, to the pool, to the gazebo. I search behind trees, in the rose bushes, and around the entire perimeter of the guest house until Bryce meets me out back.

He shakes his head. “Nana hasn’t seen him.”

My heart leaps into my throat. “Oh, God. He ran away. What if he gets hit by a car? What if someone takes him? What if we never see him again?”

Bryce pulls me against his chest, smoothing his large palm over my back. “We’ll find him.”

I want to take comfort in his words, in his touch, but I can’t find solace with a man who no longer wants to be with me. I push out of his embrace, and wipe my eyes. “We have to keep looking.”

Bryce follows me to the front of the inn, and we walk along the edge of the road, down the block, and back in the opposite direction, calling Edward’s name over and over again. We search in neighbors’ front yards, and check beside parked cars along the street. We ask people as we pass if they’ve seen an auburn-colored pit bull, but they just shake their heads.

After a while, Bryce stops and rubs his lower back. “Let’s head home. Maybe he’s waiting there for us, and we missed him somehow.”

I give him a reluctant nod, and we walk back in silence. I hold my breath as we approach the inn, hoping with every fiber of my being to see Edward’s tail thrashing left and right.

But he’s still nowhere to be found.

Bryce runs his fingers through his hair. “We should call it a night. We’ll have better luck tomorrow in the daylight.”

My mouth flaps open. “You want to give up?”

Give up on Edward just like you’re giving up on me?

“We can continue the search tomorrow. We’ve looked everywhere we could think of right now.”

“We didn’t look everywhere, because we didn’t find him. He didn’t just disappear into thin air. He has to be somewhere.” I swallow the sob throbbing against my throat as I turn to walk away. “I can’t lose him too.”

Bryce

I remain in the backyard long after Charly disappears.

I just stand there, frozen.

If Edward ran away, there’s nothing we can do to find him if he doesn’t want to be found. He knows where we live, and he’s smart. I’m confident he can find his way back. If I followed Charly, it’d only prolong her hope of finding him. And we might never find him.

That’s where Charly and I differ. She’s the hopeful sunshine, head turned up toward the possibilities, and I’m the one with both feet rooted to the ground, looking at the facts in front of me.

I think that’s why I can’t move. It’s all hitting me at once. This summer, I deluded myself. I allowed myself to see life through Charly’s lens. Now, I’m forced to focus on reality—a reality without her. And it’s crushing me.

My stomach twists. My muscles ache. A headache pulses at the base of my skull. Stress affects everyone in different ways. But for me, being disabled, stress wreaks havoc on my body. It exacerbates my pain. If I don’t calm down, I could have a flare-up and be laid out for days. So, I drag myself inside, and try to relax.

A warm breeze blows through the open bay window in the living room, but I don’t have the energy or the strength to push it closed. I lumber down the hall, and into my bedroom, swiping the CBD bottle off my nightstand. I squeeze a full dropper of oil into my mouth, and spend a few minutes doing the breathing exercises I learned in therapy. But the deep breaths don’t do much to quiet my chaotic thoughts, nor do they heal my aching heart. At least a hot bath can help soothe my physical pain.

I flip on the lights in the bathroom. The sound of jingling metal draws my eyes to the tub, and two amber eyes meet my gaze. Edward trembles like a leaf barely holding onto a tree during a winter storm, but the tiny tip of his tail wiggles as I step closer to him.

Relief floods my veins. “What the hell are you doing in here, bud?” I lower myself onto the edge of the tub, gritting my teeth as pain shoots through my lower back, and down my right leg. I reach my hand down, and he gives it frantic licks. “Your mother is worried sick about you.” I slip my phone out of my pocket, and scroll for Charly’s number.

She answers on the first ring. “I’m not coming back until I find him, so you can forget about—”

“He’s here.”

“W-what? Where? You found him?”

“He was hiding in the bathtub. He must have come through the open window in the living room.”

She sniffles, and I hear a muffled sob escape her. “Oh, thank God.”

“Where are you? Do you need me to come pick you up?”

“No. I’m heading home ... I mean, I’m heading back to your place now.”

Then she ends the call.

I push to my feet, and pat my thighs. Edward makes a clumsy exit from the tub, his paws sliding out from under him as he climbs out, and we wait for Charly outside on the porch swing.

As soon as she rounds the corner of the inn, she spots Edward and takes off running. Edward bolts down the ramp, meeting her halfway across the yard, and dives into her arms. She kisses the top of his head over and over again, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks and she cradles his huge body.

“You scared me, you crazy dog. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

I stand, and shove my hands in my pockets. “He must’ve heard us fighting, and it probably triggered something in his memory from his last owner. Poor thing was shaking when I walked into the bathroom.”

She lifts her eyes to mine, but only holds my gaze for a moment before she looks away. “Do you want me to transfer my things to the empty room at the inn?”

“What? No. You don’t have to—”

“I’m going to bed then. I’m tired.” She brushes past me without a second glance, and Edward follows her into the house.

How easy it would be to go after her, and tell her what she wants to hear, tell her what I feel in my heart.

I want to be with you.

We’ll make the distance work.

I don’t want to lose you.

You’re everything to me.

But following my heart will only lead to heartache in the end. And that’s just not something I’m willing to go through.

After my bath, I count the hours as I lie awake in bed.

Alone.

Like I did before Charly walked into my life.

And like I’ll continue to do after she’s gone.