She was not what you would call a low-strung person. But Lendall had never seen her quite so high-strung.

And she had a look in her eyes that Lendall had never seen before.

“You okay?” asked Lendall, starting toward the woman he loved, but stopped. Gayle pulled away from him, not allowing him to touch her. “Hey. What’s up? What’s wrong?” Lendall asked gently as the storm door swung shut.

Gayle inhaled sharply and said, “Lendall…” And then she held her breath and grimaced in a combination of pain and disappointment and anger and confusion. And she almost lost her nerve again.

“Gayle—what’s wrong?” asked Lendall, concerned.

Gayle exhaled loudly and her face relaxed, and then she inhaled sharply again and remembered how she had planned to do this. And then found her nerve again. And looked Lendall dead in the eye. And calmly stated, “I want it back.”

Lendall scrunched up his forehead and asked, “Huh?”

“I want it back,” Gayle repeated.

Lendall scrunched up his forehead some more and jutted his neck forward and wondered what she wanted back and asked, “What?”

“All the love I gave to you: I want it back. Now.”

Lendall tried to figure out what Gayle was saying. And couldn’t. And scrunched up his whole face and asked, “What?”

Gayle was irked by the question and had no patience for Lendall’s confusion. Because she couldn’t have been clearer. And, besides, she had already had this conversation with him many times in her head—since she had left the Moose Paddy.

Unfortunately, she had forgotten that Lendall hadn’t been in her head. So he had no idea what she was talking about. Or what her intentions were. This was all new to him.

Nevertheless, she still expected him to follow what she was saying. And she continued, “I’ve got yours in the car.”

“What?” asked Lendall, looking toward Gayle’s Jeep, completely at a loss.

“All the love you gave to me: I’ve got it in the car.”

“Why?” asked Lendall, turning back to Gayle.

“I don’t want it anymore.”

“What?!?” Lendall was starting to understand what Gayle was saying. And he felt his insides get heavy and knotty.

“You heard me. I don’t want it anymore. So I’ve brought it back.” Gayle nodded toward her Jeep and added, “It’s in the car.”

“What do you mean you don’t want it anymore?”

“I’ve made a decision: We’re done, and so—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What do you mean we’re done?”

“Just what I said. We’re done, and so, I’ve brought all the love you gave to me back to you. It’s the right thing to do.”

“Gayle, what’re you talking about?”

“It’s in the car,” repeated Gayle, ignoring Lendall’s question.

Perplexed, Lendall turned toward Gayle’s Jeep. And then back to Gayle. And was about to ask why she wanted all the love she had given him back, but before he could, Gayle interrupted him and offered, “I can get it for you … or you can go get it.”