Page 18 of Tied up in Knots (Gummy Bear Orgy #4)

I suppose it’s better this way. We shouldn’t have started whatever this was in the first place. It’s better to break it off and be done with it. But I have to say something. She has to know that no matter what happens or what she thinks of me, I always loved her and always will.

“You may think I only think of myself, but you should know there’s always been one other person I never stopped thinking about Bambi. And no matter what she says, it was never just lust, and it wasn’t a mistake.”

I’m not sure if my meaning gets through to her because she turns her head further away from me, burying it in the fluffy collar of her robe.

My hand fists around the strap of my bag and I itch to turn around and stay, but don’t. Instead, I face the door and open it, knowing it’ll most likely be the last time I ever step through it again.

~

A day of pure agony passes after I leave Bambi’s apartment. I barely sleep and the dinner at Gigi’s is awkward. Thankfully everyone thinks it’s because of my leaving rather than the secret relationship and breakup between me and Bambi.

I think Gigi suspects something because she eyes me then Bambi before narrowing her eyes at me again and probably looking into my soul seeing everything I keep hidden.

Dawn comes quick, or at least the time that is normally dawn but is still dark because of the season, comes quick.

Everyone is out on the dock, wrapped in jackets and blankets and sleepy eyed.

All except Bambi. She doesn’t look like she slept at all, still wearing the same clothes she was last night.

She stays at the back of the group while everyone else presses forward.

“I can’t believe you’re actually leaving,” Izzy mumbles, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “You have to come back and visit. I don’t care what you said before, you have to.”

“We’ll see,” I say, because I know saying no will just make her argue more.

I give her a tight hug and memorize her knowing smile and tangled blonde hair.

She’s been this way since grade school, and I realize how much she’s changed since then.

Growing from the string bean bossy pants, to the class president and prom queen, and now to the still bossy, charity planning, and committee heading woman.

I suppose I’ll have to come back when she finally decides to marry James.

I would be a real ass and horrible friend if I didn’t.

“You better, or I’ll have to come find you,” Owen interjects as Izzy steps back allowing her brother to take her place.

Owen hugs me, and not just a bro side hug, but a full embrace with a matching back slap.

“You’re welcome to come find me whenever you want. You’re always welcome on my boat.”

“I may just do that. It would be nice to leave the freezing cold for a warm beach and babes in bikinis.”

I internally cringe. Not only do I not want to babe watch at the beach but that had to hurt Bambi as well. And since I can’t exactly deny him and blurt out everything that happened with Bambi over the last week, I just grin and nod.

“You make sure to call me, okay man? Don’t forget about us up here.” Owen's tone changes from jokester playful to an uncharacteristically solemn seriousness.

“I could never forget you Owen. You’ll always be my best friend. And as long as I have a signal, I’ll call.”

Being out in the middle of the ocean I don’t always have cell service, only my radio to call in for emergencies.

“Alright, my turn,” Gigi demands, shoving Owen out of the way.

Gigi’s hug lasts the longest, her surprisingly strong arms locked around my waist. I imagine this is how it would feel saying goodbye to a mother.

“You be safe out there. And when you’re ready to come home, you know where to find us. You’re always welcome here.”

“Thank you, Gigi.”

She cups my face in her hands and pulls me down to press a kiss to each cheek. Holding me still for a long moment while searching my face before releasing me with a pat to my cheek.

“Be good,” she whispers as she pulls away.

She knows I won’t. It’s not in my nature. That would be all Bambi. The last one to say goodbye, and the most reluctant. In her hands she holds a small, wrapped package the size of a book. It’s clutched to her chest protectively. Slowly she makes her way to me when Gigi moves away.

“Here.” She thrusts the package towards me. “I got it for you a while ago as a going away present.”

I take the object which is undoubtedly a book by the feel of it.

Unwrapping it immediately, because I have to know what she thought to get me.

I expect something useful like a guidebook, or something traditional like Moby Dick .

What she gives me is far more meaningful.

A beautiful copy of The Man and The Sea by Ernest Hemingway.

Oddly enough I know this story. It’s a tale of an old man who is so determined to catch a massive marlin, that he is out at sea for three days before capturing it only to have it eaten by sharks, returning home with nothing but its bones.

A tale of reaching beyond your means and being too stubborn to accept the truth, only to return home empty handed in the end. I’m sure there are other interpretations of the work, some religious, but the obvious symbolism is there in the story itself. Her meaning to me.

I look back up at Bambi, who’s nearly frowning down at the book in my hands, unable to look me in the eye.

“Thank you,” I say, and because I can’t leave her like this, not with everything we said before. I pull her to my chest, wrapping my arms tight around her and burying my face in her shoulder inhaling her rose scent.

She doesn’t immediately respond, but when I don’t pull away, she tentatively wraps her arms around me and squeezes tight. She may be angry with me and won’t come with me, but even she can’t let me go without this.

“I’ll miss you, Bambi. And I do love you.” I whisper the words in her ear and pull away before she can respond.

I don’t want to hear her refusal or argument. I just want her to know she was wrong about me. It’s probably a dick move, but I can’t change it now.

A chorus of goodbye’s calls out as I pull away from the dock, the barest glimmer of a sunrise on the horizon. I wave as I sail away, but I’m only looking at one person on that dock. The one that holds my heart and my misery. The woman I’ll never have again but am grateful I had for a little while.