by E. K. Blair
"I tried calling a few times, but—"
"I'm sorry. I know you called. It just...It hurt to lose Ryan, but it hurt to lose you too."
"You didn't lose me. I love you, dear. You will always have me whenever you need me. I know Ryan hurt you, and I understand it might be easier if I'm not around, but please know that I am always here for you."
Her words hit where they always hit: deep inside. My chin quivers as I try not to cry, and I go in for another hug. When she wraps her comforting arms around me, I let the tears free. "I'm glad you came. I've missed talking to you." When I step back, I add, "But you're right, it hurts. You were the best gift Ryan ever gave me, but I need the space right now."
"Of course. I understand."
"I'm sorry."
"You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about. I am so proud of you. You will do amazing things. Just keep following that strong heart of yours."
"Thank you, Donna. Really...thank you for everything."
"Well, I better get going. Congratulations."
I smile at her one last time as she turns to walk out of the building. Another pang of loss eats me from the inside and I cry. I don't fight it; I just let it envelop me. After a few minutes, I walk outside into the cold rainy night and welcome the chilling drops that plunk down on me and mix with my hot tears. I keep telling myself it'll be okay, because I know it will be. I have to believe in that.
A few days after the production, the calls started coming in. I was offered placements in five companies. Pacific Northwest Ballet here in Seattle was one of them, but when the call came from the American Ballet Theatre in New York, one of the most respected ballet companies in the world, I couldn't say no. My dreams of dancing full-length classics such as Swan Lake and La Bayadere at the Met are about to come true. I can hardly believe it. Life has been a total whirlwind since I accepted their offer.
Graduation is in two weeks, so I have been busy packing up my room and researching apartments in New York City. I found a flat in a walk up that is close to Lincoln Center, where I will be dancing every day. I rented a storage unit here in Seattle to store some of my furniture and the boxes of things I don't need or won't have space for. Once I'm more settled I will figure out what to do with everything.
Everyone is out of town for Memorial Day weekend. I stayed behind because I just had too much to do. Kimber is still seeing Seth even though he is moving to California for grad school. She says they aren't in love or anything, just having fun. They went to Whistler for four days while Mark and Jase went to Vegas.
It's Saturday night, and while everyone is on vacation, I am sitting on the floor of my trashed room, trying to sort through all of my things, deciding what to throw away, what to take with me, and what to leave behind in storage.
My phone rings and when I pick it up, I see it's Kimber calling and that it's already past midnight. Swiping my phone, I answer, "Hey, Kimber."
"Candace, hey." Her voice is shaky and slow.
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. Uh...Candace, Seth just got a call from one of his fraternity brothers, and I need to talk to you about something."
My mind immediately goes to Jack. Why else would I care about any news from Seth's frat house?
"Okay. What's up?"
There is a long pause before she speaks.
"Jack's dead."
I swear my heart stops when she tells me this, and I have to remember to breathe.
"What?"
"Yeah. It happened earlier today. A drunk driving accident."
"Oh." I don't know what to say. I feel numb.
"Look, I can come home if you need me to. I just wanted to tell you before you saw it on TV or something."
"No, I'm fine. Really." For some reason, I feel tears threatening, and I rush to get off the phone. "You guys have fun. I'm about to go to bed. I'll talk to you later."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Bye."
When she hangs up, I set the phone down. I feel the tears run down my face, but I don't make a sound. Jack's dead. I keep saying it to myself over and over. He's dead. The more I say it, the more my emotions well up. I want to shut down, but I know I need to force myself to feel whatever it is that is brewing inside of me.
When I choke back a breath, that's when I begin to cry. I'm not sure why I'm crying. I'm so confused. I don't know what I'm feeling, but it feels a lot like sadness. But why am I sad? Shouldn't I be happy? But I'm not happy. He's dead. God, what's wrong with me? I shouldn't be feeling sad for the guy who raped me. I should be relieved—relieved that I don't have to be scared of him anymore. I begin to sob, my emotions overtake me, and I know for sure: this is hurt and sadness.
I pick up the phone to call Jase, but it just goes to voicemail. I hate that I'm feeling this way. I lie on the floor in the middle of my messy room, and curl into a ball. I try to slow my breathing, but everything about Jack starts flashing through my mind: meeting him for the first time at the club, dancing with him at Remedy, kissing him in his car. Why am I thinking this way? I should be thinking about the asshole that raped me, broke me, destroyed me. He ruined my life, and I'm sobbing on my floor because I feel bad for him.
I need to run away. I know I shouldn't, but I just need to escape. I throw on my running shoes and walk outside. It's the middle of the night, and the streets are quiet. It's raining, but I don't care. I just walk. I walk and cry as the drops fall from the sky. I don't know how long I've been walking or where I'm even going. My running shorts and t-shirt are soaked through, and my hair is drenched in a bun on top of my head. I wander through the streets, unable to calm myself down.
When I turn onto yet another street, my vision blurred by my tears, I start walking up stairs—familiar stairs. When I knock on the door and no one answers, a fresh wave of tears break free. I feel so alone.
Hearing the click of the lock, I look up as the door opens, and my stomach clenches when I see his clear-blue eyes staring at me. I start sobbing and fall into his chest. He quickly wraps his arms around me, and I cling desperately to him. It's been months since I've touched him. I melt into him, and he reaches down, slipping his arm behind my knees and scoops me up, cradling me in his arms as he walks me inside.
When he sits us down on his couch, I remain in his arms, curled in his lap. I lay my head on the curve of his shoulder as he holds onto me tightly, as if he's scared I'll slip away. When my cries soften into short breaths and hiccups, he asks, "Baby, what happened?"
I lift my head and look at Ryan. He reaches up and strokes my cheek with his knuckles.
Shaking my head, still confused, I tell him, "Jack died tonight."
He lets out a deep breath and leans his forehead to mine. When he does, I let out all my thoughts in a blubbering mess. "I'm sorry. I didn't know where to go. I'm so confused. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"Slow down, babe."
"Should I be happy? Or relieved?" I ask, desperate for someone to tell me how I should be feeling.
"Well, what do you feel right now?" he asks as he tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear.
"Sad. And hurt. I don't know why. It's like all I can think about is Jack when he was good. Or when I thought he was. But I know he wasn't. I know I should hate him. But, if I'm sad, does that mean I don't hate him?"
"I think you're just in shock. I think you need a little time to sort this out in your head."
I lay my head back down on his shoulder, when he says, "Let me go get you a towel. You're freezing."
I nod my head and scoot off his lap and onto the couch. He returns with two big towels and wraps one of them around my shoulders. Sitting next to me, he pulls me back into him.
"You need anything to drink?"
I lean back forward and let my head hang down. Wrapping my arms around myself, I shake my head no. Ryan's hand runs up my back and onto my shoulder as he tugs me back.
"Talk to me."
I sigh and say, "I'm sorry. I didn't even realize I was here until I was
in front of your door."
"I'm glad you're here." He cups my cheek with his hand and says, "I've missed you so much."
His words hurt. They hurt because I know how he feels. I've missed him too. I've been trying not to. Trying so hard to not think about him, but he's always been there. Without even thinking, I reach up and run my hand down the side of his face as I feel my own face scrunch up, and I start to cry again.
"Baby, don't cry," he says as he brushes his thumbs over my cheeks.
Being here, in his house, on this couch where we've made love, and in his arms, I just want to go back to when it was all good. When I didn't know about the lies. When I was safe and we were so in love. But, I can't. I can't go back there again and make myself that vulnerable.
He leans down and presses his lips to my forehead, and I have to force myself to not take more. Pulling back, I shake my head and say, "I can't."
"Babe."
"I can't. It hurts so bad, I just can't"
"I swear to you, I will never hurt you again."
"But you swore you wouldn't hurt me before and you did."
Lowering his head slightly to look into my eyes straight on, he affirms, "I love you. God, I love you so much."
He moves his head in slowly. I can smell his sweet minty breath. I've missed that smell. His lips barely skim mine when I pull back slightly.
"I'm moving," I say on a hush.
Lifting his head up, he looks at me with his brows knitted together.
"I got a job. I'm moving to New York in two weeks."
He looks down and shakes his head slowly as I say, "You can't kiss me." My cries begin to intensify. "If you do...I'll never want to leave you."
"Then I'll come with you."
"Ryan...I just can't. I'm too scared you'll hurt me again. I just need to be on my own. I've been working so hard to pull myself out of the hell I've been living in."
"I know you have. I ask Jase about you all the time. He's told me how well you're doing. I just wish I could be around to see it, babe." He chokes on his words and drops his head. When he looks back up at me, his eyes are rimmed with tears. "All I ever wanted was for you to be okay, to be happy."
"I'm okay," I affirm.
We sit there while time slowly passes. I thought I would always be with Ryan. I thought he was it for me. I wanted him to be it for me. A part of me stills does, but I push that part deep down, because it hurts to feel it. I love Ryan. Despite everything that happened, I still love him. I'm not sure how long it will take for these feelings to fade, but I really wish they would because missing him is excruciating.
"Do you think you could drive me home?" I ask after a while.
"Yeah," he whispers, and I know he doesn't want to.
He helps me into his jeep and drives me the few minutes to my house. When he pulls into my driveway, he asks, "Can I walk you in?"
"Ryan," I sigh out.
He nods his head, understanding that I don't think it's a good idea.
When I grab the handle to open the door, he says, "I'll never love anyone the way that I love you."
I turn my head back to look at him, and I know my face is reflecting the pain that is wracking me as my tears fall. I nod my head, my only way of letting him know I feel the same way toward him. I can't speak. I don't know how. My sobs start to break through when I open the door and walk away from the only person I never wanted to walk away from.
Leaving Ryan last night was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I sit up in my bed and look at the chaos in my room. All my belongings are strewn all over the place. I feel like this room is a reflection of how I feel inside: chaotic. I need order in my life. I resolve to pull my life together and move forward, starting with this room.
I spend the day packing and sorting. By late afternoon, I can finally see the floor again when I stack all of the boxes along one of the walls. When my phone chirps at me, I read a text from Roxy.
Drinks?
When and where?
Prime. 7:00?
Perfect.
I hop in the shower to wash all the grime from packing off of me. After drying my hair and putting on a little makeup, I slip on a pair of dark wash jeans and a short-sleeved black peplum top.
When I walk into Prime, I am relieved to see that it's not too busy. I still tend to get nervous around crowds, especially since I don't have Jase or Ryan with me, but Roxy is already there, with her newly platinum blonde hair, waiting for me with a martini in hand. I smile at her appearance as she places her bright red lips on the glass and takes a sip, while all of her colorful tattoos are exposed on her sleeveless arms.
"Hey, hun," she says as I take a seat next to her at the bar.
"You been waiting long?"
"No, just got here."
I order a glass of red wine and Roxy asks, "So, are you all packed?"
"Pretty much. I spent all day working on my room."
She scans my face and says, "It shows. You look like shit, girl."
"Thanks," I chuckle.
The bartender sets my wine down in front of me, and I pick it up to take a long sip.
"Thirsty?"
Setting the glass down, I open up to Roxy about last night.
"It's really over with Ryan," I sigh.
"What?"
Resting my elbow on the bar, Roxy does the same when I start, "Yeah. I saw him last night. It was awful."
"What happened?"
"Nothing, really. I mean nothing was really said that wasn't said months ago. He did say that he wanted to go to New York with me."
"God, he really loves you."
"I really love him too. But I can't go back there again. Besides, New York is my dream, and if I didn't go, I would always be wondering 'what if.'"
She leans back and takes another sip of her drink. "That's understandable."
Last week I decided to tell Roxy about Jack. My therapist told me that the more I deal with it, the easier it will become, and the less power it will hold over me. She's right. It was hard, but not unbearable. I did it, and I was okay.
"Jack's dead," I slip out.
Almost choking on her martini, she shouts, "What?!"
"God, you're loud."
"Sorry," she says, and then whispers, "What?" in exaggeration.
"Yeah, last night. Car wreck. Kimber called and told me. I went for a walk to try and calm myself down, and I wound up at Ryan's house. I shouldn't have gone there. I know it only hurt him to see me again, just to have me walk away."
"Why didn't you call me?"
"I don't know. I was a mess."
"Shit," she says as she sits back and downs the rest of her martini.
"I'm ready to move on though. I'm ready for New York."
She shakes her head at me, and I ask, "What?"
"I don't think you are."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. Forget it. I'm happy for you. I'm gonna miss the crap out of you."
"I'm going to miss you too."
"You think you'll come back?"
"I honestly don't know. I have no idea where my life is going to take me. But I think I am finally ready to explore it on my own."
I take one last look around the room that has been mine for the past three years. The walls are bare and everything that is mine is now in boxes sitting in storage. I dropped my car off at Kimber's parents' house last night. They are going to keep it in their garage until I figure out what I'm going to do with it. I already shipped out my boxes, and they should be waiting for me to pick up when I arrive in New York later tonight.
"You ready?" I turn to see Jase walking into my room, and he sits down on my stripped bed.
"I'm sad," I say as I sit down next to him and lean my head on his shoulder.
"Me too. I can't believe you're leaving."
"I know. Me either." My chest aches knowing I will soon be leaving everything I know and hopping on a plane to go where I don't know a single person. Jase has always been my rock. He's my be
st friend, and I swear he's the breath that kept me going this year. I'm scared to not have him.
Jase is moving in with Mark next week. They both got jobs here in the city and since Mark's roommate is moving out and he'll have the place to himself, he asked Jase to move in.
Kimber also got a job at a local magazine working in the marketing department. She told me she refuses to get another roommate, but that's just her being stubborn. She told me she didn't want to live with anyone if it wasn't me.
"Hey, guys. We need to leave soon," Kimber says as she stands in my doorway. She looks around my room and shakes her head. "This shit makes me sick." She walks over and sits on the other side of me. I still feel so guilty for wasting all that time not speaking to Kimber. I wish I could get every second back.
"Have you even told your parents where you're going?" Kimber asks.
"No. I haven't spoken with them since Christmas Eve. And when I never heard from them on my birthday or graduation, I figured, why bother?"
"That really sucks ass," she says.
"Yeah."
She wraps her arm around me and Jase does as well. Kimber is the first one to break down and start crying and I follow shortly after.
"I'm going to miss you guys so much."
"We are too," Jase says. "Come on, girls, we need to head out."
Jase stands up, walks over to my two large suitcases, and starts wheeling them out of the room. Sitting alone with Kimber, I say, "I'm so sorry that I didn't trust you enough to talk to you. You're my sister, and I shouldn't have avoided you like that."
"Candace, you have already apologized enough for all of that. It's okay. It's in the past."
"I hate that I'm leaving just as we are talking again."
"I know. Me too." She gives me a squeeze before standing up. "We'd better go."
The drive to Sea-Tac Airport is a quiet one. No one speaks, and the somber mood is thick in the car. I sit in the front seat with Jase and grip his hand the whole way there. I never thought I'd leave him. I never thought I'd be strong enough to. I keep reminding myself that this has always been my dream. This was the goal all along. I just got really sidetracked this past year.