Reckless Surrender

by R. C. Martin

  Crystal. It’s Crystal. And, of course, she’s fucking gorgeous.

  She’s petite, a couple inches shorter than me, with an hour glass figure. She’s got incredible skin that looks like creamy caramel, and big brown eyes with thick lashes that don’t need any help standing out; even still, her makeup is perfect—like her black hair, which hangs straight down her chest and back. When she sees Trevor, she smiles and suddenly I feel irrationally insignificant compared to her.

  This is the woman he loved before me. This is the forbidden woman that he considers his greatest regret. This is the woman behind the mistake that contributed to the the three and a half years that I couldn’t have him.

  This is the woman!

  Here.

  In the flesh.

  Trevor looks like he’s staring at a ghost.

  “Hey, stranger,” she says, breaking the silence. “Do I get a hug?”

  I recognize the voice as soon as I hear it. Even still, when her eyes lock with mine, I can hardly believe that it’s her. It’s been nine years since we’ve spoken. I haven’t seen her since after Rett’s funeral. I didn’t think I’d ever see her again. Seemed easier, at the time, to let each other go. Seeing her now, here, in my present world…it’s surreal.

  “Hey, stranger,” she says, breaking the silence. “Do I get a hug?”

  My feet move before I realize that I’m walking toward her and she grins at me as I bend down to wrap her in an embrace. As she squeezes me in return, it’s like no time has passed at all. She’s as familiar as she’s ever been.

  “Hi,” I manage.

  “Hi,” she whispers, holding me tighter. “It’s good to see you.”

  “You, too.” I’m surprised by how much I mean that.

  It isn’t until Grace clears her throat that I even think to pull away from Crystal. When I look over at her behind the counter, she makes a face to imply that introductions are long overdue.

  “Sorry,” I mutter, shaking my head to clear my thoughts. “Grace, Daphne, this is Crystal. Crystal, Grace and Daphne.”

  “It’s nice to meet both of you,” she says, reaching out to shake hands with each of them. “I know this is completely unexpected, but are you free?” she asks me. “I was hoping we could catch up a bit. I could always come back if now’s not a good time.”

  “Um,” I pause, looking from Daphne to Grace. “Do I have anything for a while?”

  Grace looks down at the schedule, running her finger along the page before shaking her head at me. “Not until six.”

  “Okay.” I take a breath, my mind still fuzzy with disbelief. I’m also curious as to what the hell she’s doing here. Now seems as good a time as any to figure out what’s going on. “Do you want to go grab a coffee or something?”

  “Sure. I’d love that.”

  I nod before turning to address Daphne. “I’m—” I lose my words at the sight of her face. She looks as shocked as I feel. “I’ll be right back,” I tell Crystal before I take Daphne’s hand and lead her back to my office.

  “What the fuck?” she murmurs when we’re out of earshot.

  “I don’t know,” I say with a shrug, assuming she’s questioning Crystal’s surprise visit and not my decision to go out with her. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “She’s a lot prettier than I imagined.”

  Her observation startles me. Sure, Crystal looks just as good as she did the last time I saw her, but her body is the furthest thing from my mind right now. “Baby,” I sigh as I stop, gently gripping her chin between my fingers, tilting her head up so that she’ll look at me. “Don’t.”

  “Sorry,” she replies with a weak smile.

  “I’m just going to see what’s up. It’s been a really long time. I’ll call you later, okay? And I’ll just see you at home.”

  “Yeah. Okay.”

  I lean down to kiss her. The act clears my head, so I do it one more time. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Alright. I’ll see you later.”

  He’s gone before I can say another word. I don’t know why, but watching him leave makes my heart sink. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I know that I don’t have anything to be concerned about. He loves me and nothing, not even an afternoon at coffee with a woman he used to love, will change that. Nevertheless, I can’t shake my anxiety.

  Crystal isn’t just an old friend. She’s the only person in the world who knew and loved Rett almost as much as Trevor did. She’s the one who was there for him when his Grams died and they supported each other for as long as Rett was away. Yes—they slept together and that totally fucked things up—but their history is more than that one moment.

  “Hey. Are you okay?” asks Grace. I didn’t even notice she had entered the room. I manage a nod before I go to pick up my bag. “Why don’t I believe you?”

  “Did you see his face?”

  The look on her face gives me my answer. It also doesn’t help me feel any better.

  “I’m guessing that she’s Rett’s Crystal?”

  “The one and only,” I mumble, wishing I could lay down, fall asleep, and wake up after this whole coffee date is over.

  “Wait—you’re not worried about them are you?” she asks, tugging her eyebrows together. “You’re just worried about him, right? About how it might feel for him to have his past walk through the door?” I open my mouth to agree with her but then the lie gets stuck in my throat. The truth is, I am worried about them. “Honey—don’t do this to yourself. He’s yours. Trust him.”

  “It’s not that I don’t trust him. It’s just…Gracie, what the two of them had—it broke him. What if…” I don’t even know how to finish my sentence. I have no idea why she’s here, so I don’t know what’s about to go down. All I know is that it scares the shit out of me. I’ve heard too much, I’ve seen too much. The look in his eyes when he saw her, I recognize it. It’s the haunted expression that he has when he wakes up from one of his terrible dreams.

  “Hey, you know what you need?” she asks, coming to rest her hands on my shoulders. “You need a nice long distraction. I say, go home, put some music on, write, read, cook something amazing for dinner and relax. Before you know it, he’s going to call you and tell you how much he misses you. And no matter what happens, I’m sure he’ll need you later. So don’t worry too much. Okay?”

  I inhale deeply and exhale slowly before I nod in agreement. She’s right. I’m probably overreacting. I just haven’t had a chance to wrap my head around it yet. Everything will be fine.

  I pace back and forth in front of the bed as I stare at my phone, debating whether or not I should send another text message. I’ve already sent three. Four would be overkill, right? Or is that standard for an anxious girlfriend? I don’t know anymore. I’m exhausted, even though it’s only eight o’clock. I’m sure that has everything to do with my busy mind—which races faster and faster every hour that goes by that I don’t hear from Trevor. He should have called by now. He had an appointment at six, which means he’s back at the shop.

  He should have called me by now!

  I come to a halt as I’m struck with a brief reprieve, brought on by a single rational thought. They haven’t seen each other in almost a decade. Christ, a decade! It’s completely plausible that two and a half hours at a coffee shop wasn’t enough. Maybe he got back to the shop just before his client showed up and he just hasn’t had a minute to call me. The shop will be closed in a couple hours and then he’ll be home. I’m wasting too much energy worrying about nothing.

  I toss my phone onto the far side of the bed and then grab my Kindle from the dining room table. I shut off all the lights, crawl into bed, and read until my eyelids are far too heavy for me to keep open.

  I’m hot. Too hot. It feels like I’m under a ton of blankets and it’s stifling. When I open my eyes and peer through the darkness, I realize that I’m only being covered by a sheet. The heat that overwhelms me is coming from Trevor. As I crawl my way out of sl
eep, I can feel the sweat from his chest on my back; and the arm he’s got wrapped around my waist is making me break out in my own sweat. For a second, I wonder why he’s holding onto me so tight if he’s so hot. Then I hear him whimper.

  At least—I think that’s what I heard.

  I manage to reposition myself so that I’m looking at him. I can barely make out the expression on his face and then he does it again. It’s like he’s…crying, but he’s asleep. When he does it a third time, my heart aches and I can’t take it anymore.

  “Trevor,” I whisper, brushing his damp hair off of his forehead. “Trevor, wake up.” He moans a sad sigh and suddenly I feel like crying, too. “Trevor!” I plead, resting my hand against his cheek. “Wake up, Trevor.” He gasps as his eyes fly open and the look he gives me makes me want to hug him—so I do. “Are you okay?” He doesn’t answer me right away, so I hold him tighter. “I’m right here.”

  “I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “What? Don’t be stupid,” I demand, shifting to look into his eyes. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” he sighs.

  I roll my eyes, even though I’m sure he can’t see me do it in the dark. I don’t believe him for a second. I tell him as much as I climb out of bed and head out of my room to the linen closet. I grab a washcloth and make my way to the bathroom, drenching it in cold water. On my walk back, I notice that Logan still isn’t home yet. Guess she found her latest victim while we were out tonight.

  Before I climb back into bed, I turn on the lamp on my nightstand. Trevor shields his eyes and I sweep the cool cloth across his forehead, down his cheek, and around his neck. He seems to relax under my care, which calms me down, too.

  “What happened? You were really upset in your dream.”

  “It happens, sometimes,” he says with a nod. “They’re not so much dreams as memories. My worst ones.”

  I spread the cloth open across his chest before I work up the courage to ask, “Where did I just pull you from?”

  He stares at me for a minute without speaking. I wonder if he’s going to tell me, and then he closes his eyes and starts to tell me everything. “I was at Rett’s funeral. I remember thinking how surreal it felt. You see military burials in movies and on TV; but to watch my brother’s casket get lowered into the ground…

  “I stood there for hours. At least, that’s what it felt like. It was the first time that I felt completely and utterly alone. It was terrifying.” He reaches up to touch my hand, holding it against his chest, as if to remind himself that he’s not alone now. “Crystal came to get me. We hadn’t really spoken since the day we got the news—it was too hard. But when she came up next to me and took my hand…I don’t know. It was like I needed her and I hated her and I loved her but I didn’t want her. It didn’t matter, though. She understood my grief in a way no one else could so…I held her hand. We cried together. Then, when the time came, we said goodbye to each other. It was for the best, we both knew it, but it made me feel like shit.”

  He pauses, shakes his head, and then opens his eyes. “I’m sorry that I woke you.”

  “Don’t be. You know I’m here for you—day or night—no matter what.”

  “Yeah,” he murmurs, brushing the back of his fingers down my cheek. “I know.”

  I wake suddenly, for reasons I can’t explain, and immediately reach for Trevor. When I sit up in the darkness, I realize that it’s the absence of him that has me feeling restless. I sigh in disbelief when I look at the clock. It’s after one and he’s still not home. I turn on the bedside lamp and hunt for my phone. I find it wrapped in the blankets that I kicked off in my sleep. I have one text message. It’s from Trevor.

  Sorry I didn’t call. Still with Crystal. Don’t wait up. Love, T.

  The time stamp informs me that he sent the text over two hours ago. Every fiber of my being wants to call him. I don’t understand what’s happening and suddenly, I’m freaking out. When I start crying, I feel like I’m losing it and I can’t explain why! I just have this feeling that this isn’t good. Him out with Crystal, me in bed alone—it’s not right. I lay back down, hoping that maybe I’m tired enough that I can cry myself back to sleep. Surely he’ll be here the next time I wake up.

  Unfortunately, my attempt lasts for about two seconds before it dawns on me that I can’t stay here without him. I get up, put on a pair of sweatpants, and tuck my feet into some shoes. It’s been a long time since I’ve cried myself to sleep—and even longer since I’ve done it by myself. I’ll be damned if I let myself endure this alone. Right now, if I can’t have Trevor, I need my best friend. Logan will be able to calm me down. I just know it.

  I thought it would be weirder. I mean—it is weird seeing her, being around her—but not in the way that I anticipated. It’s actually weird because it’s…easy.

  I take her to a coffee shop just a couple blocks away from Generation Ink. We walk, because we can, and exchange pleasantries along the way. After the how have you been’s and the you look great’s, she goes on to tell me how she found me. Not that I’ve been hiding, but we haven’t kept in touch and I’m not big on social media for personal use.

  “Your reputation proceeds you,” she says with a grin as we find a table for two. She picks a spot by the window and I push up the sleeves of my hoodie before I take a swig of my iced coffee. “A friend of a friend got a tattoo from this great parlor in Fort Collins. Because I once knew a guy who dreamed of opening his own place, I had to ask him if he remembered the artist. When he said it was Trevor from Generation Ink, I just knew that it was you.”

  “Small world.”

  “Incredibly,” she agrees as she studies me. “I might have cyber stalked you a little bit. Checked out your website. You and Harvey have done really well for yourselves. I saw that you’ve even won a couple awards. I feel like I should congratulate you. I’m so proud of you. Rett would be, too.”

  “Thanks.” I feel like I should say more, but that’s all I’ve got. It’s like I’m a kid who showed up to class without doing my homework. I know nothing about her life post-Rett. Apparently, my one word reply is enough for her because she doesn’t miss a beat.

  “Looks like you got some work done, yourself,” she says, her eyes roaming over my exposed arm.

  “Yeah. It’s…it’s a dragon.”

  “Oh,” she murmurs. I can tell by the look on her face that she remembers the design I drew for Rett. I’m sure she’s smart enough to make the connection. “Can I see it?”

  “Uh—” I look down at myself. Remembering that I don’t have anything on underneath my hoodie, I chuckle as I let the image of Daphne begging for the shirt off my back fill my head. “I lost my shirt today. How about when we get back to the shop?”

  She looks at me curiously and then laughs. “Okay.”

  “What about you? Got anything to show?”

  “No,” she replies with a smile. “I’ve yet to be able to find the courage it takes to mark myself permanently like that. Maybe one day.” She sips at her drink and we grow silent for a moment. I’m just about to ask her why she’s here when she speaks once more. “Gosh, I still can’t believe I’m sitting at this table with you. I didn’t know how much I missed you until I saw you come out of that hallway. I—I have so many questions.”

  “Like what?” I ask with a shrug.

  “Tell me more about the shop. Grace, the one at the front, she said she’s Harvey’s wife? She’s so adorable—how did Harvey land a sweetheart like her?”

  It’s strange that she knows Harvey pre-Grace. In our group, I’m the only one who does. It makes me nostalgic. Crystal knows the kid I used to be, back when I first met Harv in Cali. Sitting across from her reminds me of the countless nights we’d spend talking at the dinner table, just her and me, while Rett was at bootcamp or in Iraq. Looking at her now, I recognize that she’s so much more than the girl from my nightmares; so much more than my counterpart in a mistake I’ll always regret. She’s someone I used to love; someone I used to c
onfide in. She’s exactly who she proclaims herself to be—an old friend.

  I start to tell her about how Harvey and Grace met and how she helped us out at the shop. I tell her about Pete, Willow, and Coder and how far we’ve come, how much we’ve grown. She then fills me in on her job. She went back to school a few years ago and got her degree in business management. Now she is the office manager at a dentist office in Cheyenne.

  Before I know it, I’ve got a text from Grace, reminding me that I have a client coming in fifteen minutes.

  “Shit, I have to get back.”

  “Oh, already?” Crystal asks, checking her watch. “We were just getting started.”

  The disappointed look on her face makes me pause. The last couple of hours seemed to have evaporated into thin air and she’s right, it seems like we’ve barely had any chance to catch up. “Well, you’re welcome to hang out with me at the shop, if you want.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. I just have the one appointment you can sit in on and then, I don’t know, maybe we could grab dinner or something. Unless you have other plans.”

  “Nope,” she says, shaking her head excitedly. “That sounds perfect.”

  “Okay. Let’s go.”

  We get back to the shop just in time for me to complete my set up before my client shows. When Ronnie arrives with her boyfriend, I introduce them to Crystal. I make sure it’s okay with her that my old friend sits in while I work on her sleeve; she’s quick to agree. It’s her first piece and she’s pretty excited. She’s getting a wing of an eagle tattooed from her shoulder, halfway to her elbow. After I transfer the image onto her arm, we all agree that she’s going to rock the shit out of this new ink.