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Why did I say yes to marrying you?The thought came unbidden. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was truly having second thoughts, or if this was me reacting to him telling me no.
Mom told me that Dad pissed her off all the time. Sometimes, she said she regretted ever marrying him.
But sometimes didn’t equal all the time, did it? I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt excited about marrying Trevor.
“So, I just ... what, assimilate into what you want?” I snapped.
“Eventually, you’ll see that you want it too.”
I shook my head, but he was done with the conversation. He rolled his eyes as if I were a petulant child and brushed past me.
“Where are you going?”
“Out.”
“But we’re not done.”
“Oh, we’re done. There isn’t gonna be any more talk about this.”
He pulled on his shoes and slammed the door behind him.
As soon as I was alone, I finally let myself feel all the emotions I had been trying so hard to suppress.What am I doing here? Why am I marrying this man?
I shook my head and looked down at my white-gold ring. All of a sudden, it felt like it shouldn’t be on my finger.
He’d said I wanted to run, and maybe he was right. I couldn’t be here anymore. I couldn’t do this routine, and I couldn’t keep looking at houses while pretending my heart wasn’t in Strawberry Springs.
I slid the ring off my finger and set it on the side table. I already felt ten pounds lighter without it.
I knew Mom would be disappointed. Dad too. They probably wouldn’t understand, and they would push me to get back with him.
My breath came out in stutters. I neededoutof this life. Out of this relationship. But Trevor had inserted himself everywhere.
Well, everywhere except foroneplace.
On hour two of the drive, the calls started. At first, it was Mom. Then Dad. And eventually, Trevor. I turned off my phone, choosing to sit in silence as I tried to remember every single reason I was leaving.
But I was terrified that I was making a mistake.
There was only an hour left, and I wished it could go by faster. Buildings had turned into hills and fields, and I’d gotten off the two-lane interstate some time ago.
Instead of questioning every decision I’d just made, I tried to remember all the things I’d liked about Strawberry Springs when I was a kid.
I remembered a town square filled with people. There was a diner I’d begged Papa Bennie to take me to every day, along with an endless library and antique shop I would walk through when it was too hot to work in the fields.
Life moved slower there. People stopped to talk in the streets. They’d all known my name and asked how I was. It was the complete opposite of the life I knew.
And I needed it.
The Strawberry Springs welcome sign came up as I crested a hill. I slowed down to read it.
Strawberry Springs. Keeping the magic alive.
“Magic, huh?” I mused to myself. “I need some of that.”
I could see the town square from the main road, and it was as cute as ever, with two-story buildings facing one another. A clock rose high over the library.
I was tempted to see the town up close, but my sights were set on the farm.