T.J. clicked off the television. I sat down beside him, scratching Bo behind the ears. Neither one of us said anything for a minute.

“At least one of us should be able to get on with their lives,” I said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“I can’t find a job. You can go to school.”

“I don’t want to be cooped up inside all day.”

“You’re inside right now.”

“I was just waiting for you to get home so we could take Bo for a walk. What are you really trying to say, Anna?”

My heart started pounding. “We can’t keep trying to re-create the island here in this apartment.”

“This apartment is nothing like the island. We have everything we need.”

“No, you have everything you need. I don’t.”

“I love you, Anna. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” His words carried an unspoken meaning. I’ll marry you. We’ll have a family together.

I shook my head. “You can’t know that, T.J.”

“Of course not,” he said sarcastically. “How could I possibly know what I want? I’m only twenty.”

“I’ve never talked down to you because of your age.”

He threw his hands up. “You just did.”

“There are things you need to finish. And so many things you haven’t had a chance to start. I can’t take that away from you.”

“What if I don’t want those things, Anna? What if I want you instead?

“For how long, T.J.?”

Realization dawned on his face. “You’re afraid I won’t stay?”

“Yes,” I whispered. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” What if T.J got tired of playing house, and decided that settling down wasn’t what he really wanted?

“After all we’ve been through together you don’t trust me enough to believe I’ll stick around?” The hurt in his eyes turned to anger. “Bullshit, Anna.” He walked over to the window and stared outside. Turning back around he said, “Why don’t you just say what you really mean? That you want to look for someone your own age.”

“What?” I had no clue where he’d gotten that idea.

“You’d rather have a guy that’s older. Someone people don’t treat like a kid.”

“That’s not true, T.J.”

“There’ll always be some asshole who thinks he can hit on you right in front of me. They don’t take me seriously. To them, you’re the one killing time. Did you ever think that I might worry about you leaving me?”

An emotionally charged silence filled the apartment. The minutes felt like hours as both of us waited for the other to say that our fears weren’t justified, but neither of us did.

I thought it would hurt less if I ripped the band-aid off quickly. “You need to be on your own, T.J., and know what that’s like before you can be sure you want to be with someone.”

The look on his face was pure anguish. He crossed the room and hesitated, standing only a few steps away from me, staring into my eyes. Then he turned his back on me and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

I didn’t sleep that night. I sat on the couch in the dark, crying into Bo’s fur. The next morning I left the apartment early, having promised Sarah I’d watch the kids while she and David went to Sunday brunch. When I got back I discovered T.J. had ripped off a band-aid of his own because all his things were gone and his key to my apartment was on the kitchen table.

It hurt like hell.

Chapter 62 – T.J.

Ben and I rented a two-bedroom apartment for the summer, on the third floor of an old building four blocks from Wrigley Field. His parents moved to Florida after telling him they were tired of the snow and cold. Ben didn’t mind since he and his older brother both went to college out of state, but he needed somewhere to live until classes started back up in the fall.

“You wanna get a place with me, Callahan?” he’d asked. “We can party like nobody’s business.”

“Why not,” I’d answered. If Anna was so determined not to have me miss out on anything, sharing an apartment with my best friend was probably a step in the right direction.

Ben was majoring in finance and accounting and he somehow managed to land an internship at a downtown bank. He had to wear a tie every day.

I talked my way into a construction job, and I was out in the suburbs every morning by 7:00 a.m., framing houses. I caught a ride with a guy on the crew, and he taught me everything I needed to know and kept me from looking like a complete dumbass. It wasn’t that different from building the house on the island except I used a nail gun and there was a lot more lumber lying around.

Most of the guys weren’t real talkative, and I didn’t have to carry on a conversation with anyone if I didn’t feel like it. Sometimes the only noise was the sound of our tools and the classic rock music coming from the boom box. I never wore a shirt and pretty soon I was almost as tan as I’d been on the island.

At night, Ben and I drank beer. I missed Anna and thought about her constantly. Without her next to me I slept like shit. Ben knew better than to say anything about her, but he seemed worried about me.

Hell, I was worried about me.

Chapter 63 – Anna

The temperature reached eighty-five degrees by two in the afternoon. The heat rolled off me like the sweat that ran down my face as my feet pounded the pavement.

It didn’t bother me. I could handle heat.

All through the end of June and July I ran – six, then eight, then ten miles every day, sometimes more.

I didn’t cry when I ran. I didn’t think, and I didn’t second-guess myself. Breathing deeply in and out, I put one foot in front of the other.

Tom Callahan called in early August. When the name came up on my caller ID my heart leapt, plummeting a second later after I answered and realized it wasn’t T.J.

“The seaplane charter settled this morning. T.J.’s already signed the papers. Once you add your signature, it’s done.”

“Okay,” I grabbed a pen and scribbled down the address he gave me.

“How are you, Anna?”

“I’m fine. How is T.J?”

“He’s keeping busy.”

I didn’t ask him what that meant. “Thanks for letting me know about the attorney. I’ll make sure to sign the papers.” There was silence on the other end for a second and then I said, “Please say hello to Jane and the girls for me.”

“I will. Take care, Anna.”

That night, I curled up on the couch with Bo to read a book. Two pages in, someone knocked on my door.

Hopeful excitement washed over me, my stomach filling with butterflies. I’d wondered all day, after talking to his dad, if T.J. might reach out to me. Bo went crazy, barking and running around in circles, as if he knew it was him. I ran to the door and flung it open but it wasn’t T.J. standing there.

It was John.

He wore a guarded expression. His blond hair was shorter than it used to be, and he had a few lines around his eyes, but otherwise he looked the same. He held a box in his hands. Bo nudged his legs, sniffing and circling.

“Sarah gave me your address. I found some more of your things and thought you might want them back.” He looked over my shoulder, trying to see if I was alone.

“Come in.” I shut the door after he crossed the threshold. “I’m sorry I never called. That was rude of me.”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

John set the box on the coffee table.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Sure,” he said.

I went into the kitchen, opened a bottle of wine, and poured us each a glass. My choice of beverage reflected my sudden need for alcohol more than any desire to be hospitable.