Memoir in the Making: A May-December Romance (28 page)

“I fly back tomorrow, actually. Cheap flight and I needed the time to study.”

“Oh.” Disappointment rang through Meredith. She had wanted a few days by herself, but if Ainsley was coming back that soon, it was a possibility they would see each other again and soon.

“Yeah. I’ll be really busy though.”

“Oh. Okay,” Meredith said with a bit more hope. She needed to figure her own problems before dragging Ainsley into it all.

“I told them,” Ainsley whispered.

“Your mom?”

“Yeah.”

“And what did they have to say?”

“I don’t know. They weren’t very happy. I guess…I don’t know, but I’m more confused now than ever.”

Meredith mulled over Ainsley’s words for a few seconds before she answered. “Then take some time to think about it. I’ll see you next week. No need to rush into decisions.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Meredith confirmed. “I’ll see you next week at school.”

Picking up her phone, Meredith ended the call. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, feeling more lost than she had before. She pulled herself up from the couch and locked her front door, turning off the radio and lights as she went. Meredith needed to relax.

She went to her office and sat down at her computer, turning it on and opening up the document to her latest novel. She was going to lose herself in her writing and not think about Ainsley for as long as she could get away with it. Her characters came to life around her and her mind slipped into the world her characters lived in.

#

Anxiety had been churning in Meredith’s stomach the rest of the weekend. She hadn’t been able to get the conversation with Ainsley out of her head, and for each text message Ainsley had sent or phone call Ainsley had made to her, she ignored it. Sam had gotten back late Saturday night, and she was already dressed and ready to go over to his house early the next morning.

Meredith finished applying her makeup and started her car, letting it warm up while she had her last sip of tea for the morning. Getting into her car, she drove over to his apartment, the pains of anxiety in her stomach getting worse with each block she drove. By the time she got to his apartment and pulled into the parking lot, her stomach pains were so bad she had to take a few minutes before she could walk up to his front door.

Knocking, Meredith waited until he opened the door, his hair mussed from sleep and his eyes barely open. “We need to talk,” she said, brushing past him and starting the pot on the stove for tea.

Sam mumbled an, “Okay,” before following her to the kitchen and sitting on a stool, his head on his arms and his arms on the counter as he waited. She turned on the coffee maker and tapped her foot impatiently while she waited for it to have enough for a cup.

When she settled the hot mug in front of him, Sam pushed his head up from the counter and looked at her before taking a long sip. “If this is about Ainsley, I don’t want to hear it.”

She stopped short. Her own mug was millimeters away from her lips, and she halted, glaring at him. Why would he even say something like that? Meredith set her mug down and leaned against the counter, her hands holding her up as she turned her head to try and read him. But she couldn’t. The only thing she could read was that he was sleepy and annoyed.

“I waited until eight,” she said.

“On a Sunday. Rule is ten on Sundays.”

“I haven’t seen you all weekend.”

Sam raised his gaze and narrowed his eyes at her. “You know why you haven’t seen me all weekend.”

“Yes, I do, but that doesn’t mean I was okay with it.”

“You’re lonely, and that makes me sad for you.”

Sam took another long pull from his cup, and Meredith’s jaw dropped. He had never been this painfully ornery with her. She tightened her grip on the edge of the counter, staring at him dumbfounded he had even said that. Swallowing, she relaxed back and looked around the kitchen for something to do, anything.

“I can’t believe you said that,” she said, finally getting the nerve to say something back. “This week has been horrible. This semester has been hell. All you can do is say you pity me?”

Sam put his cup down then and focused on her, his gaze locking with hers as if he was about to explain something that would take her a long time to understand. Meredith took in a deep breath. “Why are you even here? You don’t listen to me anyway.”

“I listen.”

“Oh? Yeah? What was the first thing I told you to do about Ainsley?”

Meredith locked her lips together. He had told her to stay away, to avoid her, to not go near her. She had tried to listen and follow his instructions—she really had. But that had been near impossible when she’d tried, and then she had just given up.

“Exactly,” Sam said and went back to drinking his coffee.

She was once again stunned into silence. She swallowed and stayed awkwardly on the opposite side of the counter, the sink right in front of her. She felt outnumbered, outgunned and told off. He was supposed to be helping her and giving her advice, not putting her in her place, which was exactly what he had done.

“I couldn’t.”

“Which should tell you something right there.”

“You’re mean in the mornings,” she said, needing to give him a shot back, say something about how he was treating her.

“You woke me up at eight in the morning on a Sunday, a Sunday where I just got back from Thanksgiving with Jeremy’s family—which was awkward, weird, exhausting, and very sad. A weekend where I barely got in before three in the morning last night from the drive. So yes…I’m mean this morning, and I think I deserve to be mean this morning. Not only that,” he added. “But you need to figure out this problem and where you stand, and only you can do that. I can’t do it for you.”

“She said she loves me,” Meredith whispered.

Sam’s gaze moved up to hers, and his look softened. Meredith finally found the sympathy she was looking for. Letting out a breath, her shoulders fell and her stomach pain eased up.

“She said she loves me.”

“And did you say it back?”

“I don’t—I—I couldn’t,” she whispered.

Silence permeated her heart, and everything came crashing down on Meredith. She knew where she had gone wrong. Knew exactly what she had to do to make up for it all. Taking a deep breath, she walked around the counter and wrapped her arms around Sam’s shoulders, kissing his cheek quickly before heading to her car and driving home.

He probably went straight back to bed, but that wasn’t her concern. She got home, let herself in and sat down at her computer, typing the letter she should have typed months ago. She opened up a new document on the computer and started the letter the only way she could have.

I must resign my position as professor of creative writing. My last day will be December fifteenth. I appreciate the opportunity I have had to grow here.

She finished it off with a short explanation and with her name before printing three copies: one for her records, one for the dean of humanities, and one for Ainsley. Meredith let out a breath and sealed each envelope and wrote the names respectively on it. If she didn’t do it, she would no doubt be fired—but that wasn't her only reasoning behind writing her resignation.

Ainsley had told her mom and step-dad about them, presumably letting them know close to everything that had been going on. Meredith took a deep breath. Her mom and step-dad would no doubt do what every good parent would do in the situation. They would call the school and start an inquiry with the school board.

The paper in her hand hurt, but it was the right decision to make. She had wavered on the edge of making her last day too far away and needing to jump in headfirst. She would finish out the semester, hopefully without problem, and then start her full-time writing career in December like she had been planning for years. Years ago when she’d dreamed it would be a reality and then the intervening years that had told her it would never happen.

Meredith sighed and opened up a new document, planning out the next spring and summer. She would need to reduce her finances to a minimum while she waited for her royalties to pick up from her increased output. She was pulling enough each month to pay her mortgage, but that was it. Her savings would help her for two years, and if she didn’t increase her royalties by then, she would need to search for a new and real-paying job then.

Planning out the rest of her life, Meredith sat at her computer for hours. When she leaned back in her chair and stared at all her hard work, she shook her head. She had never imagined she would be starting a new full-time career this late into life, that she would be making such a huge life change because of one person. But the more she worked on it, the more it felt right. She just had to keep Ainsley at bay until the end of the semester so she could finish it out with dignity. That meant two weeks: dead week and finals week. That was all Meredith had to get through in order to have her plan work.

Tomorrow morning, she would march down to the dean’s office and plant her resignation on his desk and walk away from the last fifteen years of her life. Rubbing her eyes with her forefinger and thumb, Meredith took a deep steadying breath. Even if she and Ainsley didn’t stay together, this was the right decision. It was time to do what she’d always wanted to do. It was time to be the writer she’d always wanted to be. It was time to stop pretending who she was.

Packing her resignation letter for the dean and the one for Ainsley in her school bag, she pulled out her papers and graded them. She’d struggled with focusing at first, but as soon as she was three or four papers in, she got into the groove of grading and focused only on the stories her students had created.

When Meredith looked at the clock on her wall again, it was after five and her stomach rumbled from hunger. It was the first time she’d realized that the anxious pain that had been present for the last several days constantly and every once in a while in the past few months was completely gone. It really was better to make decisions and take a leap of faith than stay where she wasn’t completely welcome.

Licking her lips, Meredith got up and went to her wall of wine in her office. She grabbed the best bottle she owned and lugged it out to the kitchen. Pouring herself a glass of it, she toasted herself and her decisions, sipping it gingerly. She started dinner on the stove and glanced at her phone which she’d left on the counter all morning in hopes she wouldn’t have to listen to it ring as Ainsley called again.

She had three missed calls and quite a few text messages. Instead of calling Ainsley or Sam back, she sent Ainsley a text, telling her to meet in her office the next day before noon. She knew Ainsley would be there early in the morning, but that didn’t matter. Meredith needed to see Ainsley more than she ever had before, but she still couldn’t tell her everything. She had to keep it all bottled for two more weeks—two weeks to the end of the semester and to the start of one of the biggest life decisions she had ever made on her own.

Chapter Twenty-Four

She’d been back since Friday and hadn’t heard hide nor hair from Meredith. Every text, every phone call had been ignored. The idea of going over to Meredith’s house and seeing her had crossed her mind more than once, but because of the last time, she had decided it might be better to just wait it out. Her weekend home hadn't been as relaxing as she had anticipated, mostly because of Meredith.

Her mother had been shocked, but her step-dad—he had been livid. She'd tried to calm them down as much as she could, but she was certain they were only listening to her for a few seconds before they completely forgot what she had said. Ainsley had wanted to warn Meredith about the conversation and had intended on doing so the night she'd called, but it hadn't happened. She'd chickened out, and then each time she tried after that, Meredith hadn't even answered. She'd left a dozen messages, asking Meredith to call her back, but her phone had remained silent for the rest of the weekend—at least silent from Meredith.

Her mom had called about every hour to make sure she was okay. Like Meredith was going to corrupt her or something. Ainsley sighed and shifted to lean against the wall in her bedroom, the books in front of her long forgotten. It didn't matter anymore anyway. She should have waited until Christmas break to tell them. That way she would have weeks to convince them not to do anything other than a measly three days. Friday had been a blessing and a curse. She'd flown back to school but not without fighting for her right to. Her mom had threatened to keep her home.

Biting her lip, Ainsley glanced down at her phone and then picked it up. She flipped through to Meredith's name, and then flipped through the pictures she had. She didn't have many, but there were a few of the two of them together. Mostly when Ainsley had convinced Meredith to do something ridiculous and had snapped a picture before Meredith could object to it. She smiled sweetly at one of the pictures and then put it away. Anger bubbled into her chest. She was mad at herself, mad at her mom and Nick, and she was certainly mad at Meredith.

After all the shit she had gone through, Meredith at least owed her an explanation, or owed her something. Keeping her in the dark and avoiding her after everything that had happened was worse than just up and leaving with a quick goodbye. Ainsley crossed her arms over her knees after she pulled them up to her chest. She rested her chin on her knees and looked out the window across the room from her.

She should just go over there and throw a fit. She definitely deserved to be treated better, and if it hadn't been for being so in love with Meredith, she probably would have left the relationship already. Her being in love—the thought still scared her half the time when it wasn't exhilarating. It wasn't just that she was in love with Meredith; she knew, deep down, Meredith loved her back and fear had overridden most of what she said and did. It seemed so odd coming from a woman who oozed confidence and poise, but that was what it had to be. Ainsley didn't have any other explanation for it, and she was very good at reading people.