CHANGE
Now, this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is perhaps the end of the beginning.
~ Winston Churchill
Hunter
YOU KNOW THAT show you watch religiously where you’re hoping the guy will slay the demons? Well, that’s not what’s happening here. This episode ends with the guy leaving the show. Looking at her for what could be the last time, I wish I had time to touch all of her. At least a long, deep kiss while driving myself inside her. So deep we fuse together and nobody notices I’m right next to her. I don’t act on it, knowing if I do I might not be able to leave.
“This is it, isn’t it?” Her voice is low, soft, and as sad as her eyes.
“Yes.” With one word, I crash my world for a second time this week. I don’t have any deep words to sugarcoat my departure.
I hate to prove her right. She insisted I’d leave once I saw the real Willow.
Only days ago, I thought she’d be the one saving me. That special person who would erase the loneliness in my heart. Instead, she needs more saving than I can possibly give her. I wish I could tell her how she has come to mean so much to me; that when I leave, the most important piece of my heart will stay with her.
We are too damaged to be together. The specialist said there’s hope for her, a treatment which will give her control of her life. As for me, I have no fucking idea what’s next.
Clearing my throat, I make my case. A plea for her to understand my point and not to hate me when one day she looks back on today. This was my chance not to be the guy who pushed Willow Beesley off the ledge and abandoned her at the bottom of the cliff to bleed.
“Willow, you are loving, caring, talented, and passionate about everything that touches your life.” I kiss her hands.
“Save the speech, Hunter.” Her face is serious, her tone detached but I can hear the lingering hurt. God, this is going to kill me.
“Give me a chance to explain why you have to leave me and go on with your life.”
She touches the base of her delicate neck, frowning.
“This might seem like I’m the one who is leaving, but it’s you who will hopefully move to a better place.”
“We’re all broken, some a little more than others, Hunt. Please, this wasn’t your fault.”
“You know, yesterday I thought I had lost you forever.” I lift my hand, running the back of it around her delicate neck. Fuck, I’m going to miss her. “The seconds I held your lifeless body showed me how easily you could break me. You need someone stronger, someone you don’t have to save. A man strong enough to stand by your side when life is tough and you can barely open your eyes.”
Pulling out her birthday present, I open the envelope and show her what I had planned to give her last night. “Today, I’m confused about the strength of my feelings for you. Is my love big enough to propose? We can’t possibly survive together.”
She takes the papers and gasps as she reads them. “You bought the brownstone. Why?”
“I was planning to replace my old family with you. But you know what I learned? I’m not twelve, and they’re long gone.”
I press my lips together.
“We both deserve to be happy, Willow.”
She smiles weakly. I tell her it isn’t about her or what happened last night. This is about me and my own problems. The need to recreate something I lost—my parents and our big, happy family. The people I talk to who only exist inside my head. Those sleepless nights when I obsess about the past and search for a way to fill a void I refuse to accept. The panic I feel outside my house caused by wondering what if my life ends before I reach happiness? What the fuck is my happiness? I’m so obsessed with the past I have no real goals.
“This is so cliché, but I’m not leaving because of you. It’s because of me.” I cup her face, brushing my lips against hers. Feeling the electricity one touch creates and saving it in my heart. Love or not love, with each breath I inhale my lungs burn as I continue to say goodbye. “Because I’m not enough to protect you. I wish with all of my heart that when you’re ready, you will meet the man who will stay with you because he loves you for your imperfections. And that he will kiss every scar when you go to sleep, reminding you that above everything else, you are the woman of his dreams.”
I see them, the many questions inside her head. I don’t know if I want to answer them or just leave.
“You’ll find a woman who will make you happy and give you that family you long for,” she whispers, handing me the deed of the brownstone I bought to start our family. “Just remember to get to know her before you offer her the world. Maybe date her for a few months before you drop down on one knee handing her a rock-pop ring.”
I wish it had been her. I wish I could have saved the little girl from those lonely and terrifying days. I wish for many things. Most of all, I wish she can learn to live with her disorder and find herself.