Chapter 25

 

Connor

 

I told Whitney all about it and she was pretty happy, both because I made things official and because Rayce and I seem to have turned a corner. I’m happy too. But something is wrong. I can’t figure out what.

Worrying is definitely the cause of my insomnia this time. I slept for something like two hours, then woke up in the middle of the night and haven’t been able to get back to sleep.

Why do I still feel so off? I’ve made my decision, and I do think I want to stay. But something is wrong. Something deep inside me feels all riled up. In a panic almost.

It’s bad enough that I get dressed and go for a walk, unable to be still. There’s normally something soothing about being out in the world when it’s this dark and quiet. But my mind won’t be still. It’s all over the place.

Way back when I told my family I wanted to leave the business and go travel the world, it was Mom who was the first to endorse my decision. I was on my old sailboat, stocking the pantry and still feeling raw from the emotional conversation we’d all had at my parents’ house about it. She found me there, helped me pack in my supplies, and talked at first about other stuff. Normal stuff.

When we were done, and I was feeling calmer, that’s when she decided to talk for real. We were sitting on the deck, looking out at the sea. My boat was ready to go, but still moored to the dock.

“You have a lot of your dad in you.”

I shrugged. While my siblings weren’t exactly keen on the idea of me leaving, they weren’t mad about it like he was. They didn’t tell me I was making a big mistake, like he did.

“He’ll come around,” Mom said reassuringly. “I think your dad just forgets what it’s like.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was pretty restless when he was younger, too.”

“But he didn’t do anything like this.”

“No. He didn’t. But nearly every weekend was about him getting his adrenaline fix. I think once he has a chance to recover from the bomb you just dropped on all of us, the adventurer in him is going to win out and he’ll respect you for what you’re doing.” I was too upset at the time to believe her, but she’d been right. He eventually accepted my decision and later did, in fact, tell me he respected me for it.

“As for me,” Mom continued, “I think this is what you need to do for now.”

“For now?” I said, still feeling defensive. “Like getting it out of my system?”

“I don’t know. You’ve always been your own person, son. I don’t know if this is something you’ll ever get out of your system. It’s always been in you, even when you were little. But… then again… at some point in your life, you may decide you want more.”

More? More what? What could be better than seeing the world and meeting all the people in it? What could be better than chasing that horizon and turning the next corner? As reassuring as my mom was trying to be, her comment only reinforced my notion that no one in my family really understood how I felt about this. “I can’t image anything more.”

“Which is why you need to go.”

Now, walking the streets of Swan Pointe in the black hour before pre-dawn, letting my feet take me wherever they want to go, a brisk wind pushing me on, I think back on that conversation with my mom. The fog I’ve been feeling for months gradually starts to clear. Things are coming into focus.

I’m able to back up and see the last several years from a distance: my frustrating time in college, breaking away from my family and the life they wanted for me, finally putting my wandering self in the driver’s seat, my failed attempt to change for Evie, and my perpetual itch that I could never quite seem to scratch. Even upgrading from a small sailboat to a trawler once I could afford it, because sailing the coasts wasn’t enough. I had to be able to cross oceans.

And now Whitney.

And the fact that I’ve been here nine months now.

Aside from the occasional visits, it’s only been family tragedy that’s drawn me back for any length of time: Corrine’s cancer and my parents’ death.

I look at it all from a distance, and things become more and more clear, little by little.

At that moment, I realize just where my feet have taken me. I’m turning off the street and crossing the parking lot that’s next to the marina. The sea wind is rushing up to greet me, like an old friend. I could say I came here accidentally, I suppose. But the thing is, here in Swan Pointe, I know what’s around all these corners. There must have been a part of me that knew exactly where I was going.

For months I’ve been wanting to say that I will stay. I’ve been wanting to make my family the promise I knew they wanted to hear. But I refused. Because I wanted to be sure. I didn’t want to make a promise if I was going to just turn right around and break it.

It was Evie all over again, except worse, because it was my family and they were already wounded. Who in the hell wants to be the asshole to put a knife in the wound?

Not me.

I wanted to stay.

I also wanted to leave.

Both in equal measure.

Then Whitney came along. I didn’t want to walk away from her, and now I’ve made all these promises all over the place.

Now, at the worst possible moment in time, as I stand here at the docks in the middle of the night with the wind whipping around me, every voice in my head falls to silence as I gain the clarity I’ve been wanting this entire time.

Now I know why I didn’t want to tell them I’m staying, even after I decided I would. I know why I’m not happy about Whitney’s promotion. I even know exactly what’s brought me here in the middle of the night.

For the first time in months, I know precisely what I want.

Now that I know, I do what I always do. I act. I head down the dock toward my boat and start to untie the stern line.

Minutes later, I’m gone.