Rooms - James L. Rubart [112]
Panic surged inside. She wasn’t kidding. There was no “I told you so” coming. The past four months with Sarah had disappeared.
He grabbed the sides of his jeans and squeezed so hard his fingers hurt. In that moment he lost control and blurted out, “You have to remember us.”
“Us?”
“You and I are in love. Three days ago the last thing you said to me was, ‘Don’t go back to Seattle’ because you knew in your gut it was wrong. Tell me you remember!”
Mistake.
Big.
A sliver of fear flitted in Sarah’s eyes, but he couldn’t stop.
“You said don’t go, that it would be a horrible mistake. I said it would be okay and obviously it wasn’t, but I won’t let that take away what we had. We’ve built so much—”
“Okay, you know what, Micah?” Sarah glanced at the people passing by Osburn’s windows. “I’m thinking we should postpone our bike ride out to Indian Beach next week, and if we’re ever supposed to do anything together again, we’ll let Providence handle the details.”
Micah held up his hands in protest. “I know it sounds bizarre, but listen! We’ve been seeing each other very seriously for almost five weeks. I went back to Seattle to . . . and . . . things changed down here because of it, but now I’ve left Seattle to get my relationship with God back. Get you back.”
Sarah stared at him, her eyes full of fire.
“But it didn’t get back to the way it was down here. I don’t understand why. But I know I love you. I know we’re destined to be together.”
Sarah let out a low whistle and shuffled backward till she reached the back wall. “This is a small town. So avoiding each other completely is probably impossible. But when you see me, you’ll cross to the other side of the street. If you’re out to eat, you’ll check the tables to see if I’m there. If I am, you’ll turn around and come back in an hour and a half. If you’re on the beach and you see me, you’ll pretend you forgot to turn off your espresso machine and head back home. Do we understand each other?”
“Don’t do this, Sarah. I can talk you through it, help you remember.”
“You need medical help.”
“No, I need you. And you need me.” He pursed his lips together and closed his eyes. “Think back to that person you went on the bike ride with. That’s me. And we fell in love. I can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”
“And I’m supposed to pretend it did because you’re delusional? Maybe this fantasy stuff works in your world, but in mine two people actually have to get to know each other without acting like they came from Jupiter before they can fall in love. Get out. Now!”
Micah stood still as perspiration wound its way down his back while he pleaded with his eyes for her to believe him.
She walked to the windows. “There are plenty of people right outside who could make your life uncomfortable if you insist on making more of a scene than you already have. Unless you get out right now, I’ll shout loud enough to break the glass.”
Micah swallowed and left without a word.
The jingle of the bells on the door as he stepped onto the sidewalk seemed to come from a distance. He stumbled south down Main Street and turned right at the end of the block headed for the beach. Micah held it together till he reached the edge of the water, where he emptied his stomach onto the damp sand.
He’d given up Seattle, all of it, and returned to what?
He stood and staggered toward Haystack Rock. Enough twilight remained for it to stand out as a looming shadow against the sky.
“Where are You, God?” Micah yelled.
The roar of the waves was the only answer. Micah felt more alone than he’d ever been. God was more distant than before he’d first come to Cannon Beach, and Sarah was gone.
He dug in his pocket, wrenched out the new cell phone he’d picked up earlier in the day, and punched in Rick’s home phone number.
C’mon, be there!
Little hope remained as he listened to one, two, three rings. Even if Rick was there, how much of their relationship had been wiped out? Two months? Three? The whole thing? The fourth ring turned into Rick’s recorded voice.
“Hi, this is Rick, sorry I’m not here. But we’ll talk soon if