Stay

We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. I couldn't remember the last time I had been here but it had been a while. It was most certainly before everything fell apart.

"Thank you, that's far enough. I can walk from here." I told my Uber driver, concerned he might get his Camry stuck if we went any closer.

He stopped the car and let me out. I grabbed my backpack and suitcase and trekked the last quarter mile of the driveway. The gin bottles in my backpack clanked as I continued up the hill. I was partially relieved to be there but partially pissed off. My editor claimed my newest book 'lacked depth' and that my characters were 'surficial'. She suggested I go back and 'immerse myself in the prose', whatever that meant. I had published ten novels and now all of a sudden she had a problem with my characters.

Regardless, this was one of the few places I could come to clear my head and really focus. The cabin had the basic amenities-running water, electricity and a wood stove for heat, but none of the distractions like Wi-fi or television. I loved how when you closed your eyes and just listened it was so quiet your ears would start ringing. In the winter it was even quieter, if that's possible, with everything muffled by the snow.

I reached the door and looked for the key in it's usual place-on the tail of the moose figurine next to the door. It appeared the cabin hadn't been rented in a while but it still gave me the same feeling when I stepped in, comfort.

Once I got the fire going I made a cup of coffee. I knew coming back here would be difficult but I wasn't quite ready to break out the gin. This had always been 'our place' but now I was making it my own.

Nate had this idea when we first rented this cabin that he was going to be a pseudo-Walden. We would come to the cabin and when he went back to work he would be able to solve all of the bugs because he could finally think clearly. The first year we came up to the cabin a lot, so much so that Marlene, the lady who took care of it, had even started calling it 'our place'. As time went on and his software company grew we came to the cabin less and less, and in the last year I don't think we came at all. His company had skyrocketed to fame basically making him a multi-millionaire overnight. He went from a salt of the earth guy living in a van with a knack for programming to a Tech giant playing roulette at the Bellagio.

It was like someone had flipped a switch on our lives. Van life was gone, we moved into a luxury condo in the valley. Our dates nights that used to consist of hiking with our dog had become launch parties where I had to learn who Louis Vuitton was. It sounded like every woman's dream, but the money had transformed his character too. The caring easygoing man I had met in college had started working sixteen hour days, yelling at people on the phone and worrying about shareholders.

And I had failed to transform with him. I still remained the author, content with my job and appearance who took any chance she got to escape the city.

I think that's also why we started coming up here. It was relatively close to the college where we had met so as things started slipping it reminded us of who we used to be.

I hadn't been up here without him though. It was too painful. Even though I wasn't quite sure of the person he was becoming I stuck by him, but he wanted to be done with me and he never said why.

Then, just like that, he was gone one day. It was as if he had vanished into thin air. After six years I didn't even get a note or anything, he just left, took the furniture and I never heard from him again. At a low point I had tried reaching out, I had missed him and didn't know how to fill the void he left, but he had changed his number entirely. All I knew about him since the breakup was what the news reported on his company, which seemed to be doing well. I didn't care about any of that though, I just wanted my Nate back.

The snow had started falling at an alarming rate. I was glad I wouldn't be going anywhere for the weekend because I wasn't sure I would be able to get out anyways. The cabin was finally warm so I switched from coffee to gin-partially to block out the Eamon pain that had flooded back in and partially to get into a headspace where I wasn't judging my own writing.

I sat down at the desk in the loft and let everything pour out, except I wasn't working on the book I was supposed to be working on, I had started a new work in progress. It was an eternal struggle.

A few hours had passed when I finally stood up and looked out the window. At least a foot of snow had fallen. I glanced at the wood pile by the fire, hoping it would be enough for the weekend. Something at the door caught my eye, a dark figure. I felt my heart drop. I was alone and I had no means of fighting off an intruder. Looking around the room the most menacing thing I could find was the bear shaped paperweight that sat on the desk. I grabbed it and hid behind the railing post. The door opened and I immediately burst into silent tears.

I saw a ghost.

I stood up at the top of the stairs so he could see me. He had taken his hat off but hadn't noticed me yet. Finally, he turned and looked up.

"Eve." His face went pale and he sucked in a big breath. I stood at the top of the stairs, bear in hand, trying to compose myself.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, doing my best to not sound choked up.

"I rented the cabin for the weekend, what are you doing here?" he asked, coldly.

"I rented the cabin for the weekend. I need to work on my book." I told him.

"Well, I need the cabin. I have some big decisions to make and I need to think."

I felt a fire grow in my chest. There it was again. Those subtle notes he always dropped about his job being more important than mine.

"I booked it, you just showed up, so it looks like you're out of luck." I responded with the harshness that was delivered to me.

"Why would Marlene double book us?" he recognized my irritancy and dialed it back.

I sighed.

"She probably thought we were still together." I told him as I descended the stairs. Seeing him up close again had felt different. He was a little darker around his eyes but overall he looked the same. I always had it in my head of how we would meet again and how I would get my revenge in my revenge dress, that fantasy that every girl has. I would run into him in a hotel bar in my red satin dress and he would see me looking stunning after all the years and realize what he missed out on. Instead, here I was, leggings from 2010 and an oversized sweatshirt I had won in a game of bar dice from probably that same year.

He looked out the window as if he contemplated leaving, but we both knew the snow had gotten far too high for that. The only way out would be with the snow machine Marlene kept in the back and that thing hadn't run since we started coming to the cabin.

"I guess we'll just have to make it work. You can have the upstairs and I'll hang out down here." he pointed to the couch by the fire.

"Why did you come here?" I asked. The gin had kicked in a little, not enough for me to ask the question I really wanted the answer to-why did you leave me-but enough.

He sighed again as if debating whether he wanted to answer my question or not.

"I got an offer to sell my company and I'm not sure if I want to go through with it." he told me. It made me feel good to know he could still trust me.

I went to the kitchen and grabbed the gin bottles, luckily I had brought two, and handed him one.

"Let's make this easier on ourselves." I told him and handed him one. I expected some smart comment about him being fine but to my surprise he took it. This was just as difficult for him as it was for me.

About an hour later we had discussed the inner workings of his whole company and details of the deal on the table. The sale would set him up for life, he would never need to work again.

"I just put so much of my life into this company. I can't just give it away to the highest bidder." he slurred.

At this point we were sitting across from each other, cross-legged in front of the fire, getting dizzier by the second.

"Did you make a list?" I asked him and he looked at me like I had three heads.

"It's not that simple."

"Sure it is." I got up and stumbled to my backpack to pull out a notebook and pen. I made two columns and sat back down.

"What have you gained with the company and what have you lost?" I asked.

He sat for a beat, considering.

"I've gained money, financial stability, a few houses." he looked up in thought.

"That's all money." I said flatly. He looked at me for a moment as if he had just realized. I made a dollar sign on the gains side.

"I've built this from the ground up though. My whole life is centered around this. I literally don't know how I would spend my day if I didn't work." he leaned back on his hands.

"Climbing, hiking, surfing-the Nate I knew would find something to be dedicated to." I was looking down, doodling on the page, and it slipped out before I could stop it. I looked up hoping he hadn't been listening, but when I did his eyes were fixated on me.

"Okay, what else?" I interjected in an attempt to lesson the tension.

"I've lost time, my 20s are gone. Freedom, I can't seem to leave the valley because whenever I do something inevitably goes wrong." He took another swig and breathed out. "And you."

My breath caught in my chest. A mix of anger and shock rose in my chest. I sighed.

"You didn't lose me. You left me. I'm the one who came home to an empty house." My eyes started welling up. My voice cracked and I couldn't keep my composure much longer. He hung his head.

"I'm sorry I-"

I stood up.

"No, you don't get this one. I had to come home to nothing but a mattress on the floor and a golden retriever whining because he didn't know where you were. No call, no note and no way to contact you. No, you don't get this one. I wasn't a factor in this business of yours before and I won't be one now." I had progressed to full on tears. They streamed down my face uncontrollably and I could feel my face start to puff up.

He stood up and put his hands in his pockets. I couldn't look at him. I looked at the window, the edge of the table, anything else but not him.

"I read your book." he broke the silence.

"Which one?" I scoffed. His comment had awoken a mean-ness in me.

"All of them."

I looked up and he was staring right at me, hands still in pockets.

"You're an amazing writer. I don't know what your editor is thinking, you are like incapable of writing topical characters," he chuckled, "They're real and relatable. Hell, I cried, some of them I felt like I was reading my own journal."

I sniffled. The tears had stopped.

"They were all you." I looked directly at him, the first time I had been able to look him in the eyes without feeling like someone had punched me.

"What?" he asked.

"My agent was ticked at me that I didn't give you a heads up about my last few books because she thought for sure you'd realize they were about you and sue. I couldn't get ahold of you though," I shrugged, "Plus I never thought you'd read them anyway."

I sat down on the couch. He walked to the window and looked out, then hung his head.

"I don't want to lose myself again, Evie." He hadn't called me Evie once in the entire last year before the end. He turned around to face me and his eyes were glassy, on the verge of tears. "I'm only 30 and I'm on a cocktail of medicines just to get through the day."

"Why did you leave me?" The words naturally came out cold. I had finally mustered up the courage to ask the question I had been racking my brain over for so long.

"I thought you would hold me back. I found myself worrying about you and missing you instead of my work and the things in front of me and I thought I couldn't get anywhere with that distraction."

He leaned against the kitchen counter.

"I never stopped loving you." he told me. I felt as if I had been cracked in half, "I haven't loved anyone since you, except my work. I tried too. I tried to find someone who could live with my lifestyle and who I could stay focused with," he breathed out, "But none of them were you."

I hung my head.

"I never stopped loving you either." I choked out.

We sat in silence for a moment. The space between us had vanished and it felt as if a weight was lifted.

"So what are we going to do?" I asked.

He shrugged and leaned back.

"I'm going to sell the company and you're going to finish your book."

I sighed. It was the answer that made sense. He opened his mouth to speak again but searched for the words.

"And, if you'll have me, maybe we could try again?" he sniffled.

My heart sank. I had wanted him in my life again, he had completely vanished. It felt like a death, but when he left I thought I was going to perish. I knew no part of me could go through that again.

"I can't do that again Nate. I can't go through that again, rebuild my life with no trace of you. I'm amazed I survived the first time." I stared blankly in front of me, visions of that time running through my head and that creeping feeling of the void he left spilling back in.

"I'm so sorry." he choked out.

A silence grew between us again. It felt like an eternity. Finally, he pushed himself off the counter and walked to me.

"I'm going to walk to the end of the road so I have enough service to call my team and tell them to go through with the deal. When I get back I'll pack up and hike out so you can finish your book." he smiled flatly, that Midwest nice acknowledgement.

While he was gone I didn't write. I contemplated everything that had just occurred. Scenes raced through my mind of the good, the bad and the extreme times of our former selves. My longing for him hadn't subsided in the slightest since he'd been gone, it had just been buried, and this weekend at this cabin had uncovered it again.

He stepped back into the cabin and stomped the snow off his boots. With tears in my eyes, like a reflex, I ran up to him and hugged him around his waist. We hadn't touched since he showed up at the cabin. He leaned down and squeezed me back. We stood like that for a beat.

"God, I missed how you feel." he spoke into my hair.

"I just got you back. I can't lose you again," Tears were flowing again. I buried my face in his shirt, "Stay."

He squeezed me tighter.

"I'm not going anywhere."