Hitchhiker (17 page)

“Chandler, I think you need to think this through.” I was finally getting his attention.

A cold chilly air blew past me and I shivered. I wanted to hang up so I could go inside and sit by the fire.

“No. I’ve decided. This is never going to work. We are two very different people, and we simply don’t blend anymore.”

“Huh… wow. Well, I can’t say I’m not surprised.” I looked out over the snow, and I thought of Dawson. I wanted him home so I could tell him about all of this. “Are you even listening?”

“I’m here.”

“You’re not taking everything. Some of the things that are in that house we accumulated together. We can split it all up whenever you get home, but in the meantime, I’ll be living there. If you are coming back, I’d appreciate a heads-up so that I may leave.” He was lashing out, but that was fine. My feelings were detached, and I couldn’t muster anything more than a shrug.

I should have argued that it was technically my house. He knew this better than anyone. But it was moot at this point. “Fine.” So much was turned upside down in my life and I didn’t want to hang up on this note. “And Seth, for what it’s worth, I really am sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

His voice cracked. The hard exterior was breaking through. “You’re right, it wasn’t. It was supposed to be you and me.”

“I know,” I spoke softly.

The line went dead; he hung up. I couldn’t say I blamed him, but I needed to do something to start fixing the mistakes I’d been making in my life. Slipping my phone in my pocket, I went inside and sat in front of the fire with my palms out till Dawson got home.

I WISH THINGS HAD STAYED
in that perfect little bubble in front of the fire. Unfortunately, nothing is ever perfect. I had a good two days with Dawson, and then he went back to being his short temperamental self. I didn’t understand it. Why couldn’t he just make things easy? He’d just come in from a day that had lasted longer than others and he was being snippy. I’d told him this morning that I would have dinner cooked, but he never bothered to tell me that he was going to be two hours after his normal time. So when he stepped in the door, a fight was already brewing.

“Hey, how was your day?”

He literally threw his shit down and marched past me into the kitchen. “Fucking long. I’m tired, and I’m hungry.”

I set my e-reader down and watched him move about the kitchen opening cupboards and slamming drawers.

“I thought you said you were cooking?”

“I did.” I laughed. “I made you plate, it’s in the oven.”

He opened the door, pulled out the plate, and cursed as he threw it on the counter. Food went all over the place. I stood from the couch and came in the kitchen. He was cursing and his fingers went straight to his mouth.

“What the fuck. You could have told me it was going to be hot.”

“When you opened the oven, did you not feel the warmth or bother
asking
me if it was hot?”

He glared at me. “Why would you have the oven on in the first place?”

I rolled my eyes as I grabbed a washcloth and started wiping the counter down. Baked chicken and green beans had landed all over the place.

“I had it on low so your food kept warm. I didn’t know when you were going to be home.”

“I swear, sometimes you don’t think, Chandler,” he scolded.

I twisted on him and scoffed. “Are you serious right now? You’re yelling at me because you couldn’t realize that the oven was on, even though the light said it was, and it was toasty inside? Yeah, okay. It wasn’t me who wasn’t thinking, Dawson.”

“Just shut up.”

I was two seconds away from handing him his ass. “You had better settle down. I didn’t do a damn thing wrong. You may have had a shitty long day at work, but that doesn’t give you the right to come in here and start taking it out on me. I fucking made you dinner. How about a thank-you?”

He just shook his head and went to the fridge, taking out a gallon of milk and drinking straight from the jug. His irritation levels were through the roof and I knew I should have backed off, but I didn’t. Why should I have? Talking to a normal person wouldn’t have resulted in a fight that was so childish. In fact, a normal person wouldn’t be so aggressively angry and lash out at someone just because they simply were standing there. But I wasn’t dealing with a normal person. This was Dawson. There were times that I had to tread carefully and walk on eggshells because I didn’t know if he would blow.

Going to the fridge that he left open, I took out the chicken that I’d made earlier and started fixing him another plate.

“What are you doing?” he growled.

“What does it look like? I’m being
nice
and making you another plate.”

I was in the middle of scooping some roasted potatoes when he said, “Don’t bother. I’m going back in town and getting something.”

I gaped. “What? Why?”

He moved around me and didn’t answer. He simply put his boots back on and left. I got no explanation and no apology for any of it. What on Earth had gotten into him? He’d snapped at me before but not like this. This was blatant disrespect and I didn’t deserve it. In fact, when he got back home, I was going to make sure he knew that the way he spoke to me was complete bullshit and he couldn’t treat me that way. At some point, I had to grow a backbone and stand up to him. He didn’t control this entire… whatever we were. I had some say in how this all played out. And being kind was a gesture that I should expect from my partner.

I never got the chance to tell him. When he didn’t come home by midnight, I called the only taxi company in Big Sky and asked to be picked up and taken into town. It wouldn’t be hard to find him in that little town, and neither would finding my Rover. Every cell in me told me I knew where’d I’d find him anyway.

As we drove past all the small shops and businesses, I gave the driver an address. Turns out my obsessive ‘stalking’ when it came to Dawson’s hook-ups came in handy. When we pulled up to the front of the house, my Rover was parked in the driveway. The taxi stopped out on the curb in front, but I did not intend to get out. I simply stared, with tear filled eyes and my heart in my stomach.
I knew it. I fucking knew it.

“Ma’am, we’re here.” The gentleman spoke over his shoulder, peering at me in the rearview mirror.

I couldn’t speak. Every little moment was playing through my head like a movie. The times that he made me laugh, the fights, the intimacy… all of it. Up until this moment, I was able to deal with everything he’d thrown at me. This slammed me in my core. This was no worse than actually walking up to that bedroom and physically seeing him with the woman he was with. This was Dawson’s typical MO. I think despite him having a bad day, this had everything to do with the fact that things
had
been going well. A good day with Dawson was like being equivalent to a week. This was all very simple for me.

I made him nervous.

I was real. I wasn’t a fleeting relationship. I didn’t behave like the girls that he picked up at the bars or wherever else he found them. I was kind, and I genuinely cared about people. My emotions and feelings for him were real, and he sensed it. He read it from me from the moment that I started feeling them, and it scared him. So regardless of his ‘bad day,’ Dawson was sabotaging a good thing before it even got off the ground. And I wondered if he even realized he was doing it.

“Ma’am, is this the correct address or would you like me to take you somewhere else?” the guy asked again.

I sighed, and a single tear slid down my cheek. “Please, just take me back to my house.”

“You sure?”

I nodded and the cab turned around. I didn’t need to see anything else. I was going to go back to the cabin and booking a flight back to Maine. It was evident that my housemate and I needed to spend a little bit of time away from each other and maybe figure out what was going on. Dawson needed a hard reality check that this sort of thing wasn’t something that I could put up with any longer. When he told me that he would try, I took that to heart. You didn’t run back to old habits when things got hard. Find a new way of doing things. If you couldn’t, then let me know; I would have found some way to move on. Even if that meant leaving the house and finding somewhere else to go.

“I’m coming home, Dad.” I tried my best to hold back the imminent tears.

“What’s the matter, baby girl?” His voice sounded sleepy since I woke him in the middle of the night.

“Nothing, I just want to come back for a little bit. I miss you and Mom.” I knew he knew better.

“You want to talk about it?”

A small sob escaped my throat. “Nope.”

“Do you need a ride from the airport? I can see if Sydney can come get you.” He was concerned but respected my privacy.

I shook my head even though he couldn’t see me. “No, I think I’m going to get a rental.”

“Okay. You sure you don’t need to get something off your chest? You know I’m a good listener.”

It warmed me that he was offering. “No, but thanks, Dad. I’ll call you when I get in.”

“Two more days, right?”

“Yep.” I had to get off the phone soon. I was beyond ready for a breakdown.

“Okay, if you need anything at all, call.”

“Bye, Daddy.”

“Bye, baby.”

As soon as I hung up, I broke down. My cheeks were stained with tears, and I was gasping for air. This hurt worse than anything I’d ever experienced. I wanted to hate Dawson so bad for what he did and what he was doing. I couldn’t. I didn’t think I could ever hate him. Disappointed though, that was a definite emotion. I couldn’t share him. Not that way. Nor did I think I could stay here after that. I needed to get away. This was a perfect opportunity to test my resolve. I needed to be strong for him. He was good with his words. He’d make me believe that everything was okay, or that what he did was all right because that was just how he was. Wrong! It wasn’t and it never would be. What I wanted with him was real. If he wanted that too, he would have tried harder.

So this was what broken felt like….

In the early hours of the morning, after I’d cried myself to sleep, arms coming around my waist woke me and I was pulled back against a strong chest. Soft lips brushed my shoulder. Just the smell of him made me feel at peace, at a time when my head was complete havoc. I let him have this, just for a minute. But then I scooted away.

“I’m sorry, Chandler,” he said.

“Not good enough this time, Dawson.” I sniffled.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

He thought all of this was about dinner? “No, you shouldn’t have. But this is about more than that. I need some time alone. Could you please go to your room tonight?”

He jerked back. “Seriously?”

I was already wavering. Just looking in his eyes was enough to crumble my strength. I needed him to leave. Now.

“Yes. Not tonight, okay?”

“Fine.” He climbed out of the bed and it took everything for me to not grab his hand and ask him to stay.

Before he walked out the door, I announced, “I’m going home in two days. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. His shoulders came up, but he didn’t turn around. “Okay.”

It bothered him. “You can stay if you want. I don’t mind.”