Chapter Fourteen: The Weekend He Promised Me
1344 Words
Two weeks remained.
I had started marking the days on the calendar beside my refrigerator, although I covered the small red crosses whenever Gavin came over.
I didn’t want him to think I was counting.
Even though I was.
On Thursday afternoon, he appeared outside my classroom with two cups of coffee and a smile that made three girls beside me slow down as they passed.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” I said.
“You say that like you’re unhappy to see me.”
“I’m surprised.”
“Better.”
He handed me a cup.
It was exactly how I liked it.
“Don’t you have work?”
“Night shift.”
“So you drove across town to bring me coffee?”
“And to kidnap you.”
I looked at him over the lid. “That sounds illegal.”
“I have a badge.”
“You don’t have a kidnapping badge.”
“You don’t know that.”
He took my backpack before I could protest and led me toward the parking lot.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
Gavin drove us beyond the city, toward roads lined with trees and houses separated by wide stretches of land. The farther we went, the easier it became to forget that we were hiding.
No one here knew Natalie.
No one knew Cole.
No one looked at Gavin’s bare ring finger and wondered where his wife was.
He stopped outside a small cabin rental office beside a lake.
I turned toward him.
“What is this?”
“Our first weekend away.”
My heart jumped.
“You booked a cabin?”
“For next weekend.”
“Next weekend?”
“Friday through Sunday.”
I stared through the windshield at the lake visible between the trees.
“We’ve never spent an entire weekend together.”
“I know.”
“What about your shift?”
“Marcus is covering Saturday.”
“And Natalie?”
The question came automatically.
Gavin’s smile weakened, but only slightly.
“She thinks I’m attending a training seminar.”
My excitement dimmed.
Another lie.
He saw the change in my face.
“It’s temporary.”
“I know.”
“Two more weeks.”
“I know that too.”
He touched my chin, turning my face toward him.
“I wanted to give you something to look forward to.”
I looked back at the cabins.
A weekend.
Two mornings waking beside him. Meals that didn’t have to be rushed. No phone calls ending because someone entered the room.
No motel checkout time.
“I am looking forward to it.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“I am.”
He leaned closer.
“Then smile.”
“You’re very demanding.”
“You love me.”
“That doesn’t make you less annoying.”
He kissed me before I could say more.
---
We walked along the lake for almost an hour.
The day was warm, but the wind off the water made me pull my jacket closed. Gavin took my hand and kept it inside his coat pocket with his.
It felt almost painfully normal.
A couple passed us walking a dog. The woman smiled and said we made a beautiful couple.
Gavin thanked her.
He didn’t release my hand.
The happiness from that tiny moment stayed with me longer than it should have.
Near the end of the trail, we found a wooden bench overlooking the water. Gavin sat and pulled me down beside him.
“Would you ever leave the city?” he asked.
“For where?”
“Somewhere like this.”
I looked around.
“I’d get bored.”
“You say that now.”
“There’s no coffee shop.”
“There was one beside the rental office.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“What if we had a house near the lake?”
“Who is paying for this imaginary house?”
“You.”
“With my imaginary chemistry degree?”
“Exactly.”
I leaned against his shoulder.
“A house would be nice.”
“With yellow curtains?”
“You’re becoming obsessed with those curtains.”
“You started it.”
The lake moved quietly beneath the late afternoon light.
For a few minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then Gavin said, “I told Natalie I’m moving out.”
I sat up.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
My pulse quickened.
“What did she say?”
“She didn’t take it well.”
I waited for more.
He rubbed his hands together.
“She asked me to reconsider. For the children.”
“And what did you say?”
“That staying in an unhappy marriage wouldn’t help them.”
The words sounded exactly like something Gavin would have told me he planned to say.
Now he claimed he had finally said them.
“Does she know when you’re leaving?”
“Not yet.”
The doubt must have shown on my face because he reached for my hand.
“I’m doing it, Harper.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
I looked at him.
“I’m trying.”
He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles.
“I haven’t forgotten the date.”
“Neither have I.”
“I noticed.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
He smiled. “The calendar.”
“You saw it?”
“You’re terrible at hiding things.”
Embarrassment warmed my face.
“I wasn’t trying to pressure you.”
“You’re allowed to expect me to keep my promise.”
No one had ever told me that before.
Most promises made to me had been treated like favors I wasn’t supposed to question.
Gavin took something from his coat pocket.
A small brass key rested in his palm.
I stared at it.
“This isn’t another symbolic key, is it?”
He laughed.
“No. It’s for my storage unit.”
“That’s less romantic.”
“I’ve started moving some things out of the house.”
My chest tightened.
“What things?”
“Clothes. Books. A few boxes.”
“So it’s real.”
“It’s real.”
He placed the key in my hand.
“Why are you giving this to me?”
“Because I want you to see it.”
“The storage unit?”
“The fact that I’m preparing.”
I closed my fingers around the key.
Unlike the apartment key, this one belonged to him.
It opened something real.
Maybe not our home yet.
But proof that he was leaving the one he already had.
On the drive back, Gavin kept one hand on the wheel and the other intertwined with mine.
When we reached the city, his phone rang through the truck’s speakers.
**COLE BENNETT** appeared on the dashboard.
Gavin rejected the call.
A few seconds later, it rang again.
“You should answer,” I said.
“He’ll call the station if it’s urgent.”
“What if it’s about work?”
“He’s probably checking whether I’m covering his shift Sunday.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
The phone stopped ringing.
A message appeared instead.
**Call me before you go home. We need to talk.**
Gavin’s expression changed.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“That doesn’t look like nothing.”
He cleared the message from the screen.
“Cole likes creating emergencies when there aren’t any.”
I looked out the window.
I didn’t want another argument about his friend.
Not after the lake, the cabin, and the key inside my pocket.
Gavin squeezed my hand.
“Next weekend,” he said. “No firehouse. No interruptions. Just us.”
I turned back to him.
“Just us.”
It sounded like the life I had been waiting for.
And for once, I didn’t ask what Cole wanted to tell him.
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