Chapter 25: His Future Without Me

Luke sent one final letter.

Not an email.

Not a text.

A real letter forwarded from my old address.

It arrived three days before Adrian and I left for Montana.

I recognized Luke's handwriting immediately.

I made coffee before opening it.

Mara, I'm writing because I promised myself I wouldn't contact you again unless I had something worth saying.

I almost smiled.

Luke continued.

It's been two years. I have my own apartment. I pay my bills on time. I know that sounds embarrassingly basic, but I think you'd understand why I'm telling you.

I did.

I kept reading.

I used to believe my future disappeared because you canceled everything. The wedding, the honeymoon, the house. For a long time, I told myself you had ruined my life because you were angry I chose someone else.

My hand tightened slightly around the paper.

Then:

I was wrong.

The future I lost wasn't canceled by you. It was canceled the moment I decided I could take everything you built and remove you from it.

I read that sentence twice.

There was the title of our entire disaster, finally understood by the person who caused it.

Luke wrote about therapy.

About debt.

About learning to cook five meals instead of ordering delivery.

About losing his job and finding another.

About apologizing to his parents for asking them to rescue him.

Then he wrote:

I don't expect another chance. I know there isn't one. I just wanted you to know that when I think about you now, I don't think about what you took from me. I think about what I took for granted.

At the bottom:

I hope Denver is everything you wanted.

Luke.

I sat at the walnut desk for a long time.

There was no rush of triumph.

No desire to show Priya.

No temptation to answer immediately.

Eventually, I took out a blank card.

Luke, I'm glad you're doing well. I hope you continue building a life you're proud of. Take care, Mara.

I sealed it.

That was all.

Not love.

Not anger.

Not an opening.

Closure.

Two days later, Adrian and I packed for Montana.

He brought far too many sweaters.

I brought far too many books.

“Seven books for seven days?” he asked.

“I like options.”

“You're planning to hike, right?”

“Maybe.”

“I see.”

We drove north.

When the resort appeared between the pines, something inside me softened.

The receptionist recognized me.

“Welcome back, Ms. Ellis.”

Then she looked at Adrian.

“And guest.”

I laughed.

Adrian put a hand over his heart.

“My official title.”

Cabin Four looked exactly as I remembered.

River.

Fireplace.

Desk.

Coffee.

Adrian carried his own bag inside.

That shouldn't have mattered.

It did.

On our second night, we sat beside the fire.

Adrian looked at the shelves.

“This is where you were supposed to come after the wedding?”

“Yes.”

“Does being here with me feel weird?”

I considered the question honestly.

“No.”

“Good.”

“It feels different.”

He waited.

“The first time I came alone, I needed to prove I could still enjoy it.”

“And now?”

I looked at him.

“Now I don't need to prove anything.”

Adrian smiled.

Then he returned to his book.

No grand speech.

No declaration that he had healed me.

Because he hadn't.

I had healed myself.

He was simply someone I chose to sit beside.

The next morning, I walked alone to the river.

The water moved over the rocks exactly as it had two years earlier.

I thought about Luke's letter.

His future without me.

Mine without him.

For a long time, I had believed one of us had to lose for the other to win.

But life had turned out more complicated.

Luke had faced consequences.

June had faced consequences.

So had I.

Then all three of us kept living.

Karma wasn't a lightning strike.

Sometimes it was simply being forced to become responsible for the choices you made.

I returned to the cabin.

Adrian had made coffee.

My cup sat beside my book.

He hadn't asked where I went.

He hadn't needed to.

I sat down.

Outside, the river continued toward somewhere neither of us could see.

For once, I was happy to do the same.