Exodus

by Stewart , Kate

  Ripping my eyes from him, I pull another envelope from my purse and toss it at him. It thuds against his chest falling to rest on his wingtips. “An addendum to the original contract that will negate my shares in your company. It’s over. Ties broken. I’m letting you win. Goodbye, Tobias.”

  My heart nags me with every step I take away from him, begging me to make it whole as I quietly close the door behind me.

  “Should sell fast. Especially at the asking price. Are you sure you don’t want to start higher?”

  I shake my head as she plants the ‘For Sale’ sign into the ground before securing it into place with a rubber mallet.

  “I’ll contact you at the number you gave me.”

  “Thank you.”

  She glances around. “Such a beautiful place.”

  “It is.” I can’t argue with her. It was a place built for a family. A blueprint that stemmed from unrealistic dreams of two people who spent a moment in love, meant for a family who never had the chance to exist.

  Two dreams died in this house, but the foundation of those love stories is spectacularly similar. And now it is a reminder of all that was lost.

  A fucking Greek tragedy with a Shakespearean twist.

  And for all my efforts, I can’t at all renounce my name. I’ll forever be the Capulet without a Romeo.

  There’s no gypsy to relieve us of our curse, no apothecary with a quick solution. All that dwells here is a painful history repeating itself.

  And so the story goes.

  All are punished.

  I nod as she secures the lockbox around the door when I spot the envelope tucked into it.

  “I’m going to take off, but I’ll be in touch. I’m taking Melinda to lunch for referring me for the listing.”

  “Please tell her I said goodbye, and thank you for your help,” I say absently, taking the envelope in hand, thumbing the contents inside.

  My heart lurches at the weight of it.

  Several minutes later, I collect my bag as my car pulls up. With one last walk through the house, I lock it up, leaving the key in the lockbox.

  One last order of business and my life will again be my own.

  Exiting the cab, my bag in hand, I hear the recognizable guitar licks of southern rock, lighting up at the sound of the familiar music. Just as I approach the bay, the sun beams from between the clouds, and I take it as a sign of encouragement. Insides rattling, I peek into the garage and see him hunched underneath the hood of a BMW.

  The clanging of tools and an exhaled curse have a smile upturning my lips. I study him briefly, at least what I can see—dark jeans and greased tan work boots.

  “Excuse me, sir.”

  “Be right with you,” he replies sharply, his tone having nothing to do with me and everything to do with his frustration. My smile widens.

  “I’m new in town, and I was just wondering if you knew where I could find some trouble to get into around here?”

  His body tenses unmistakably in recognition before he slowly lifts, his upper half coming into view before he darts his head around the hood, and hazel eyes meet mine in an agonizingly familiar tug.

  He’s still golden, his skin drenched from the endless sun that seems to wrap around him. Though his hair is cropped shorter, I can still see the tint of platinum sneaking through his thick threads. He looks so much the same it steals my breath.

  “Trouble?” he drawls, “Oh, I think, I should be asking you since it just walked into my garage.” He studies me a beat, then two. And then I see his decision.

  He’s striding toward me all swagger before he whisks me into his arms and whirls me around like not a single day has passed. Cedar and sunshine, and Sean. The smell is distinctly his. It has my emotions warring as I inhale as deep as I can before he lets me back on my feet. Deep creases line the corners of his eyes as his smile lights up, filling me to the point a fast tear forms and falls.

  For seconds, we look over the other, and I latch on to it with all my might, feeling him slip away the second his memory kicks in, and the light in his eyes dims. The pain leaches onto my chest as he steps away and pulls a rag from his pocket to start wiping his hands.

  “Heard you were in town, Pup.”

  “And you still didn’t come to see me.”

  “Wasn’t sure if I wanted to, or if I should.”

  And there it is, the grudge, some for me, some for what happened. But for those seconds, just moments ago, he remembered me, remembered then, remembered us, before everything went to hell. I should be grateful he acknowledged it, but all I feel is…loss.

  “Yeah, well, the wolf sought me out first so you couldn’t protect me this time.”

  “I never was good at it anyway,” he says softly.

  “You were too busy making me tough.”

  I don’t miss the flare of pride in his eyes. “I did a hell of a job with that.”

  I take a step back, unable to stand the fact that he’s still within reach and yet so far away. Years away, a lifetime away. A lifetime I’ll never get back.

  “Heard about all that ass-kicking you’ve been doing.”

  “I had someone pretty incredible pry my eyes open with a crowbar, so I can’t take all the credit.”

  “The hell you can’t.”

  “I’m not going to, so let’s leave it at that.” I glance around. “So, this is you?”

  “Yeah, old habits die hard. As much as Tobias tried, suit life isn’t for me.”

  “Yeah, I can see that. Do you still go hiking?”

  “Not as much anymore. But I get out when I can.”

  “A wife and two kids.”

  His smile reaches his eyes before they dart away, and I bristle where I stand, utterly clueless on how to let him off the hook. He made the decision not to see me, and I need to respect it. “I’ll go, but I…I’m guessing this came from you?” I pull the envelope from my pocket and open it, knowing what’s inside. He watches me intently as the key falls to my palm.

  “It’s mint. I checked it out. Brakes are good,” he glances over his shoulder at the car. “He would have wanted you to have it.”

  “I want it so much. Is that wrong?”

  “Not at all. It’s yours.”

  I glance over to where Dominic’s Camaro sits and back to him. “Do you really believe that?”

  He pulls a cigarette from his pack. “You were the only one who loved it as much as he did. Title’s in the dash.”

  I nod toward his cigarette. “You should quit that.”

  “So I’ve been told, a thousand times,” he says on an exhale, his tone thawing by the second.

  “She’s beautiful, Sean, really.”

  “Yeah,” there’s nothing but pride in his voice. “She is.”

  “I’m glad you found…” I shake my head, a blush of embarrassment threatening as he exhales a cloud of smoke past my shoulder. My fingers itch to trace the small scar where his lip ring use to lay. “Well, I should probably,” I hitch a thumb over my shoulder, “I have to be somewhere.” We both know it’s a lie, and his telling hazel eyes call me on it, “and thank you again for this, it means a lot but…mostly, I just really wanted to see you…it’s been a long time.”

  He nods, his gaze dropping to his boot as he stomps out his cigarette. “It has.”

  “I wanted to reach out so many times—” my voice starts to shake when I sense his hesitation. “I just…I couldn’t…come home without…I just, I’m so glad you seem to be doing well. That’s so good.”

  Do not cry. Do not cry.

  I let myself get one last long look at him and let out a shuddered exhale. “It was so good to see you, take care, Sean. And thank you,” I say, lifting the key.

  “You too,” is all he says as I back away and grip my bag rolling it away from him while burning the memory of him into my mind one last time.

  Legs shaking, I make it to the Camaro as the sun slips back behind the clouds, as if mocking me. Peering inside the car, I steady my breaths and grip
the handle before I open the door. The smell alone has my eyes watering.

  “You might be trouble. But you’re still more. A lot more.” The rumble of his voice has me glancing over my shoulder toward the road so he can’t see me break with his words. I don’t look up as he walks over to where I stand, frozen on the side of the car. Lungs burning from the sobs I’m tamping down, I keep my head turned, my gaze averted, knowing I won’t be able to look at Sean again without letting him truly see what I’m feeling.

  He brushes the hair away from my shoulder as I fight the onslaught of emotions his gentle touch causes. How many times had he touched me this way? Visibly shaking, I white knuckle the door frame to keep myself from buckling.

  “I just…really wanted to see you.”

  “Can’t do that if you aren’t looking at me.” He gently takes my chin in his hands and turns me to face him, and my tears spill in rapid succession. In his eyes, I see the remnants of the man who looked at me not so long ago with nothing but adoration, love, lust, and longing. I see it all in those seconds, the love we had, the love we distorted, our friendship, our season together—my golden sun. So much to say, and the fear I may never get it out, that he may never want to hear it.

  “I still think about you, Cecelia. It’s impossible not to.”

  Unraveling, I bite my lip to control my shaking jaw. I still feel so much for this man. But this is the part I swore I’d let myself have, let myself feel, let myself confess. I owe it to both of us. “I can’t tell you…” I let myself get swept away by his gaze and the vulnerability he’s allowing me to see. His eyes are swimming with our memories, more than that, with love. He’s giving me more precious seconds, and I can’t for the life of me look away or deny his gift. “I-I-I-,” I swallow. “Me too.” The floodgates open, and emotions overwhelm me. Sean was the first man I ever truly loved, and one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever known. “Are you happy?”

  He gives me an easy nod, even with his eyes brimming with emotion. “So fucking happy, Pup. I am.”

  “G-g-ood. I’m so…I just, I never got to say goodbye,” I choke out. “I never got to say goodbye and,” I sob in my hands briefly and feel his arms surround me. “You were my best friend, more than that, so much more. Everything got so fucked up, and I just, God, I missed you for so long. You were my first love, and I loved you, Sean. I really loved you. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “Fuck that,” he murmurs, pulling my head to his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I never reached out after it happened, I’m sorry I let him get between us, that I wasn’t man enough to…I blamed you, but it was easier. I fucked up too. But I was so…lost, so fucking lost.”

  “I know,” I whisper, “me too.”

  “I never wanted you to hurt, I hope you believe me,” he whispers to my temple.

  I nod, gathering my fragments and ash and trying my best to get it together. “I do. And if you’re happy…that’s all I want.”

  “I’ve got a wife I don’t deserve and two beautiful kids I never, ever thought I’d be capable of loving the way I do. I named my boy after Dominic, and the little bastard acts just like him. It’s a curse, but I’ll always have a piece of him,” he drawls, his voice laced with regret, and longing. “Just like I’ll always have a piece of you,” he strokes my back in the soothing way I’ve missed for so long, “And you will always have a piece of me.” He pulls back and cradles my face in his hands.

  “But I can see it. You still haven’t let go. You have to let go so you can get your happiness too. You were never to blame. Never. And I know if Dominic could, he would tell you the same. It was his decision. And he loved you.” I nod and nod as he wipes my never-ending tears. “I regret a lot of shit from back then, a lot, but I don’t regret you. I loved you then and now, and I always will.”

  Our eyes lock as a part of me rips while a larger part of me heals. I feel the first stitch and the sweet relief that comes with it. He leans in and presses his forehead to mine, our pained breaths mingling. “Deep down, even though I have everything I’ll ever want, more than I could have ever expected for myself, some part will always wish it was me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper as tears coat my lips as I gaze up at him. “I sometimes wish I would never have met him, never laid eyes on him.”

  “Don’t be. It played out the way it was meant to. You were always supposed to be his secret to keep.”

  It’s the first time I’ve hated his honesty, hated the truth. “You know I’ll always love you, too.”

  He lifts his chin, eyes shimmering with our mistakes. “Yeah, I do. Go.”

  He releases me, his gentle gaze probing, begging me to do the same. I nod and step away as he widens the door, and I slip into the car.

  In the next breath, I’m turning over the engine as he stands outside the window. I don’t look at him, but I know he’s peering into the car, stuck in the past with me, where I brought him, remembering me, remembering us, regret as heavy as his hand that lays flat on the window. It’s when I put the car into gear and check the rearview that I see the glint of something familiar, something that once belonged to me. Lifting my hand, I pinch the symbol between my fingertips, tempted to ask the question but deciding it’s better left unanswered. I release the necklace hanging from the rearview just as Sean steps away. I refuse to look at him, for fear any resentment slips back into place. I’m taking his love, all that he could spare me as I pull away, hopeful he recognizes the piece of me he will forever own.

  It was a decision to come and face the ghosts of my past, to free my truths, and I’ve done it, I’ve slain it all, and yet the relief is heavy. Gripping the steering wheel, I sit idle at the highway mulling over a direction.

  My eyes lift to the grey mist smoking through the mountains in the distance when a thought occurs to me. I click the signal and floor the gas, every mile I tread getting a little easier, every thread of wind whipping through my hair filled with bittersweet release. I lift my phone and hit play. The opening lyrics to “Keep on Smilin’” by Wet Willie, lulling me into a state of peace I haven’t felt in years. I may be leaving, but I’m taking all of them with me. Gunning the car, I shoot toward the highway thankful, thankful to have felt, and experienced love in every degree, for the gift of knowing it, for every memory I’m taking with me. For the love I had and lost, and the burning reminders surrounding me, charred into me, telling me that no, I’ll never be that woman who can let go of the past, but I can take it with me.

  With Sean’s music filling the air, Dominic’s buzz at my fingertips and feet, I pick up speed over the county line, just as the sun peeks back through the clouds. And then I’m flying. The wings on my back, I decide belong to me. And with them, I free myself.

  Eight months later…

  “What’s he going on about now?” Marissa asks, sliding the register closed with her hip. I glance over my shoulder to see she’s looking up at the TV before turning to warm up the coffee of the man sitting at the counter. “Will there be anything else?”

  “No. Thank you,” he says, failing to catch my eye as I lay down his check. It’s his third time coming in this week. He’s handsome, but I know better. I’m nowhere near ready—one day.

  One day.

  Maybe.

  The second time I left Triple Falls, I gained something I never thought I’d have again, faith.

  It’s contradictory to love in the way it doesn’t destroy you. You can have a little of it or a lot, but it can’t tie you up in knots. Faith is a healer, and it gives birth to hope. And hope is my next step, but I rest easy in faith.

  “Cee, two sunny,” Travis, our short order cook calls as I retrieve the plate and deliver it to the older man propped on the stool. He nods toward the television unwrapping his silverware. “Turn that up, will you?”

  I glance at the TV to see it’s another presidential address. The second in the last week from our new elect last fall. He was sworn in as the youngest president ever to take office.
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br />   “Jesus, it’s like two thousand eight all over again, our money isn’t safe anywhere,” the man says, shaking his head. I grab the remote and turn up the TV before I cash Mr. Handsome out, laying his change and receipt on the counter. Briefly, I think of Selma, and a smile crosses my face. Except I don’t bother to steal from this owner, it’s my name on the paychecks.

  Oh, the irony.

  “Just more bullshit. More promises that won’t be kept.”

  Billy, a grumpy regular who’s tapping ketchup on his scrambled eggs, grunts out his agreement. “I don’t like the look of him. I can tell he’s a crook.”

  Laughter erupts from me. “Is it his suit, his haircut?”

  Billy looks at me like I’ve grown an extra head, and I shake my laughter away and refill his coffee as he thumps his sugar packet with his finger, one, two, three times. I swallow the sting it causes and speak up as I pour, “You know, we’re still a young country, as in two-hundred-and forty-plus years young versus others a thousand or more years old. Maybe, one day, we’ll get it together.”

  Mr. Handsome nods, eyeing me reflectively. “Never thought of it like that.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m just a messenger,” I whisper, mostly to myself.

  “He’s a quack,” Marissa says, and this time I do burst into roaring laughter. She gives me the side-eye. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing.” I glance up at the TV at the new president discussing the newest shitstorm on US soil. In the past six months, unbreakable banks have gone under, federal judges have been fired, and President Monroe has cleaned out his entire cabinet and replaced ninety percent of the White House staff. In essence, he cleaned house, and nobody likes change. I like to keep an open mind. Briefly, I read his assurances in closed caption. It’s much of the same, of how our country will survive, band together, overcome our odds, and come out stronger.

  It’s the words that everyone needs to hear, but words that are equally as deceiving. But as I look closer at his surroundings, it’s the man to the right of him that gives me pause before that pause gives way to electric shock.