Coming Home

Thirty-Two

Once I'm safely back in New York, it's relatively easy to pretend nothing has changed. That I haven't changed. My neutral mask slips onto my face almost effortlessly, shielding my true feelings from the outside world as if they never existed in the first place. I like to pretend that I'm not completely devastated and the grief I'm experiencing isn't entirely excruciating. I misguidedly hold onto the idea that other than Grandpa Jones's absence, everything is precisely the same as it was before I left for Minnesota, even though I know better.

I'm not entirely sure if my charade is wholly effective or even minimally believable. Still, I find myself imagining that it's an impenetrable force that thoroughly blocks the depths of my pain from being exposed. It's the only thing I can think of to force myself to resemble the woman I'd been before the events of the past few months happened.

I shut down the coffee shop the day of the funeral, knowing wholeheartedly that the staff and regular customers would rather be at Grandpa's service, anyway; the kind and caring man had touched the hearts of many in his days on this earth. As much as he'd hate to see his precious cafe closed and miss out on the smiles, friendly faces, and casual chatter, I think our community deserves a proper chance to bid farewell to the man who was practically the very heart of it for so long.

It's infinitely more difficult to appear in control at Grandpa's funeral than it had been at Gran's. Perhaps it's because of the comfortable surroundings of the town I have considered my home for the last five years. Or maybe it's due to the fact that I actually have a semblance of a support system this time around, something that allows me to feel safe enough to express my vulnerability more openly. As much as I don't want to fall apart in a public setting, I don't try as fervently to hold back my tears this time.

And with Levi at my side, breathing is undoubtedly easier.

Once Grandpa Jones's body is tucked safely beneath a layer of earth, Levi and I return to my little apartment, where we do absolutely nothing but bask in the presence of one another. It's the greatest comfort I could ever receive, if I'm honest. Unable to shut off my mind long enough to fall asleep, I quietly leave a snoozing Levi in my bed, resigning myself to my living room. There, I repeatedly draft and delete an email to a realtor back in my hometown... A message that only seems to add another crack in the already broken armor surrounding my much too fragile heart.

If I plan to stay in New York, there's no need to hang onto my grandmother's house... right?

The very thought of selling it makes my stomach roll, bile threatening to rise up my throat at any given second.

After the uproar at the will reading, I suppose I could just gift it to a family member instead. If I chose to go that route, at least I wouldn't have to deal with any aggravated familial backlash from the people who already hate me beyond reason. But I can't bring myself to feel even remotely satisfied with that idea, even if it means Gran's house would remain in the family.

I type, delete, and retype the email about seven or thirty-seven times before giving up entirely, the realization that I don't actually want to part with the house causing my chest to ache tremendously. I can't believe I even entertained such an idea; what the hell was I thinking? Not only is that building my only remaining connection to my Gran, but it also serves as a bridge to Grandpa Jones, as it's where he spent his final days.

Not to mention, Levi... there's a connection there that I can't bring myself to ignore, either.

With a long, wavering sigh and a new flood of tears relentlessly pouring down my cheeks, I ultimately erase the newest draft of the message, my mind wandering to possibilities I hadn't previously explored.

If only I could bring myself to pursue whatever this is blossoming between us... Could Levi and I actually be happy together? We could make a life together in that tiny Minnesota town; we could have a future and someday watch all of our dreams come true. But could I really be happy there? I left for a reason... With intentions to never return. And I've got everything I need here in New York. Right?

In the spirit of confessions, I can't honestly say I regret leaving Minnesota in my past. I don't belong there anymore.

Sure, a long-distance relationship could be worthy of an attempt. But could Levi truly be content with such an arrangement? Truthfully, I don't think I could subject him to such torment of being states away from his partner for prolonged periods of time... Especially for such selfish reasons.

No, Levi Hutchins deserves much better than that.

He deserves better than me.

As much as it pains me, I know I have to let him go. Levi has been nothing but caring and supportive of me; I couldn't possibly repay him by holding his heart hostage in a situation where one or both of us would likely end up being miserable.

I love him too much to do that to him.

After splashing some cold water on my face in an attempt to wash away my tears, I return to the wonderful man I'd left lying in my bed. As carefully as possible, I crawl in beside him, wrapping my arms around him as if it'll be the last time I'll ever have the chance to do so. With my face pressed into the nape of Levi's neck, I allow my heart to weep silently as he sleeps peacefully, wordlessly expressing the extent of my feelings toward him as if my soul is speaking directly to his.

As my eyelids finally become heavy and unconsciousness begins to overtake me, the only thought left lingering in my mind is that I wish I could somehow hold onto this bond between us forever.