And I was the cause.
“I asked you here because I wanted to make amends. To put the past behind us. Not to bring it all back up,” Silas said, his teeth pressed tightly together. “Clearly, had I known you two already knew each other, I would’ve waited for this encounter.”
I watched as Hudson abdicated his fatherly role. Drawing his emotions back in. “You’re right.” He reached out, placing a heavy hand on Silas’ shoulder. “You’re right, Si.”
Silas didn’t protest the endearment. Maybe a small part of him craved to hear it once more.
“I’m here because I love you and I want to fix things between us. I’m going to fix things between us, on your terms,” Hudson continued, squeezing Silas’ shoulder.
This was supposed to be a happy moment. One Hudson had longed for, but all I felt was an awkward twisting in my heart. An outsider, standing near them, prying in on a moment I didn’t belong in.
A flurry of anxious chatter imposed in on the moment. We all looked to the left.
“James, they’re ready for your speech,” Janice said, head poked through the doorway to the theater. I could see heads bobbing up and down as people took their seats.
“Be right there,” Silas said to her, a smile forced onto his lips. A moment later, he added, “I have to give my speech. I’ll let you two catch up then.” His eyes found mine. “See you inside?” There was more to that question than three words.
I nodded, wrapping an arm across my chest, and then wished him good luck. Watched as the door shut with a soft click behind him.
When I turned back around, Hudson was already heading outside.
I ran.
“Hudson!” I called after him as he crossed the parking lot, rain falling like tears from the sky. “Hudson, wait.”
The ends of my dress were being dragged through the puddles, but I didn’t care. I had to know why. I had to keep him from leaving without saying goodbye.
He got into his car. I got into the passenger seat.
My pulse was thundering so hard within my ears I could barely hear the rain beating against his roof. The edges of the love I held for him were curling in on themselves, withering away with every moment he kept his eyes from me.
“So that’s it then? You’re going to leave without talking to me?” I asked, voice shaky and uneven. I sounded desperate, but I didn’t care. Love did that to people. It made them insane.
I wiped the rain from my face as his hands writhed against the steering wheel. The air was shattered between us. Our hearts protested wildly against our chests.
“Why did you change your number? I called you!” I yelled as my tears blended in with the rain on my cheeks.
His palm hit the steering wheel so hard I was afraid it would crack in half. He cursed under his breath, his shoulders rising and falling unevenly. When he looked at me, there was a tortured anger warring within his gaze. He was fighting with what he wanted to say. Fighting this moment.
“Because,” he finally said. “Because I was stupid, Hartley. I’ve cursed myself every day for that mistake. Even more so now. I knew you’d call. And if I gave you the option, you’d change your mind and leave. I didn’t want that for you. I want you to be happy. To live your dream.” He paused, stealing his gaze away from mine. Gripped the steering wheel again as if it was the only thing holding him together. “Because I wouldn’t have the strength to tell you not to come home.”
Words escaped me as his admittance slowly sank in. He knew he would have asked me to come back. And he knew I would have agreed. He knew me that well, and I fucked it up.
Loving him felt like the hot burn from the sun.
The soft din of rain filled the empty silence as our hearts struggled to beat. I never imagined seeing him again like this. Feeling like there was a mile in between us even though I could reach out and touch him.
“Do you love him?”
It should have been a simple question with an easy answer, but I found my tongue wrestling with my heart on what to say.
“Yes, but not like I love you,” I admitted as my heart beat fists against my ribcage. I turned in my seat. Reached for his hand. How could he feel so familiar and foreign at the same time? There were new calluses. A scar along the inside of his palm.
His hand blurred in front of me. “I love you, Hudson. I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. I should have told you that. I should’ve… I should’ve done so many things differently.”
He wouldn’t look at me, but didn’t pull away.
“What are you thinking about?”
The skin on his hand still wrapped around the steering wheel stretched white. “How bad I want to kiss you right now.”
His eyes found mine.
“I’ve never stopped loving you, Hartley. In my heart, I know you’re mine.”
Hope spread like sunlight across my black heart.
“But my brother is in love with you, too,” he continued, snuffing the light from my heart. “I could see it in his eyes, and I can’t risk losing him again. I won’t.”
His hand disappeared from mine. Hope was dying against my aching ribs.
“Silas is all I have in the world. I can’t… no… I won’t give him up no matter how much it costs me. I’ve waited so long for this moment to make things right with him. I’m broken without you, Hartley, but I’ll be even more broken if I let my brother go again.” He stopped, eyes squeezing shut as my world fell apart around me. “But what will haunt me until the day I die is knowing that because of my heated words spoken so long ago, I’ll forever pay for my mistakes, because either way, I lose.”
He didn’t leave the door cracked. No light left on the porch.
His words were final. Unbudging. Cemented by a bond I’d never known.
“So that’s it?” The words were barely audible, trudging through the emotions stored in my throat. “We’re just going to pretend like what we feel for each other doesn’t exist?”
He kept his eyes on the rain streaming down the windshield, and it made me feel dirty. Cheap. “I think it’s best.”
“What about what I think?” My voice was meek in the swelling space. Lost within the sounds of the rain. I didn’t have the right to ask. I was my own black hole, sucking everything in my wake. Killing off all the good.
“Hartley, don’t—”
“Don’t what, Hudson? Tell you that I love you? That Silas should understand that? Tell you that we can work this out? He’ll come around?”
“You don’t understand him.”
“I do. Maybe better than you. Sure, it might upset him, but he’s an adult now. He knows my heart is stuck with someone else. In time, he’ll come to see that.”
Hudson shook his head. “I won’t risk it. We’re already on shaky ground.”
“You don’t know him like—”
When his eyes met mine, there was so much anger, so much hostility pent up, it stole the breath from my lungs. “It’s because of what you think that we’re in this mess to begin with.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. My heart banged against the walls of my chest.
“I told you I loved you. We had our chance. We could have made it work, but you thought otherwise. You thought we could mess around and nothing would form between us. You thought you could move on, and now that my brother is in the picture, you think you can lead him on, and then ditch him because you realize that what we had was real.”
I winced at his words. At his past tense of had. “This is ridiculous. I never led your brother on.” The intensity of this moment boiled in my veins. “I was clear with him from the start. I only said yes to a date, because you had never reached out to me, and I thought you had moved on. It was time I tried to. I didn’t ask for his infatuation, and I didn’t ask for him to lie about who he was. This is his doing. Not mine.”
Hudson scrubbed his hands over his face. “His? Do you ever take ownership of your choices, or are you always the victim? Silas didn’t ask to fall in love with y
ou, just like I didn’t. I didn’t ask for you to leave me, just like he didn’t.”
Tears were stinging and hot against my cheeks, falling faster than the rain.
His hands raked through his hair, back and forth, until he had the follicles pulled tight. I’d never seen him that frustrated before. Never felt the choking rage snuffing out the air from the car.
“Right now, in this moment, I can’t care about what you think, because what you think will destroy what I’m trying to rebuild with my brother. If you care about me as much as you say you do, then you’d understand and respect that. Just like I’ve respected you.”
He inhaled sharply. The air was dead between us.
It took me a moment to collect myself from off the floor. To find my broken pieces and pick them up, clutching them against my chest. I never knew a pain like this. The splitting, cracking, ripping feeling that sank its teeth into my chest.
Hudson didn’t want me in his life. Silas didn’t want me in Hudson’s life.
All because of a job offer I’d taken. Because of my fear to let love in.
Because of my broken parts.
“Okay,” I whispered as the world blurred in front of me. As my heart let out a plangent howl. “Okay,” I said again. I got out of the car, leaving my heart in that passenger seat.
Just like that, Hudson had entered my life again.
And just like that, he was gone.
JUNE 24, 2017
EIGHT MONTHS LATER
I NEVER WENT ON THAT date with Silas. I never went back to his apartment either. After living out of a hotel for three weeks, I was able to find a studio apartment near East Hollywood. It was the first place I’d ever called my own, and the cruel humor behind the reason for settling down tasted acrid against my tongue.
I owned little, so moving in consisted of late-night shopping on Amazon for pieces of furniture to fill the small space. Five hundred and seventy-two square feet of independence and a fresh start.
At least, that was what I told myself every time the quiet set in.
Though it was strange being on my own again, there was a peace I found in the freedom of being alone. A freedom I’d come to miss.
The documentary was still making waves within the film community. Enough so that I’d received side offers from a few big directors. It paid the rent and kept my mind off the mess I’d made with Hudson and Silas. Keeping busy was the medicine I used to move on. It was the only cure I’d ever known.
I agreed to continue working on projects for Silas, but not on set. He’d changed after that night. The bitterness of my refusal to go on the date with him eating away like acid at our friendship.
I did most of my editing from home, only seeing him when it was absolutely necessary. I didn’t like who he’d become. Snarky. Petty. Taking small digs at me when he could. And when I did have to see him, I learned that biting my tongue was harder than I thought. I was surprised I still had one with how often I did. There was an unspoken rule that sprouted through the garden of our relationship like a greedy weed, spilling over, covering all the good we’d worked toward.
If I couldn’t be his, then I surely couldn’t be Hudson’s.
My mother decided to move to LA shortly after I found my place. Apparently she’d met a man through a dating app, and decided to make the big move to be closer to him. That big move put her one city away from me. I was still wrapping my head around hearing my mother speak as an us instead of a me.
I tried not to think about the fact that the woman who I’d learned how not to love from had finally found love. Maybe the biggest love of her life.
And there I was… alone.
My phone rang next to the half-eaten tray of Oreos I’d devoured as my lunch. I saved the project I was currently editing to glance at it. It wasn’t a number I recognized.
“Hello?”
“Hartley?”
The codex of voices I memorized flipped through my head until it landed on the right one. Bright, like sunlight. Rich, like smooth, buttery caramel.
“Lucas?”
His chuckle was warm and welcoming. “Yeah. Hey! How are you?”
“I’m doing all right. You?” I said awkwardly, smiling as I tried to figure out why he’d be calling me. Did Hudson need me? Was Lucas inviting me to his wedding? Maybe Martha told him to reach out to me…
“I’m doing great actually. You heard that Hudson sold the diner off to Martha?”
My stomach tightened. It had been so long since I’d heard Hudson’s name out loud. I’d deprived myself of saying it, only punishing myself when I was lonely at night and would think of him.
“He did?” I said, shocked, leaning back in my chair. One lone thought raised its hand, begging for me to pick it and listen, but I didn’t like it and I refused to listen. “I think that’s wonderful. That place was her heart and soul.”
“It really is.”
The thought I avoided jumped up and down. I shoved it aside and said, “So, what’s up?”
“Oh yeah… You’re probably wondering why I called,” he said, laughing.
Yes, please, tell me. Tell me so I can stop guessing and panicking.
“I bought a small gallery off Hollywood Boulevard, and we’re hosting our first exhibition tonight. I thought maybe you’d like to come?”
I shot up from my seat. “Wait… you’re in LA?”
“Yeah,” he said with a chuckle. “Crazy, right?”
“Why?”
“I had to do something with my life. Figured I’d be a good fit here. Surfing. Art. Rich people… I fit right in. My fiancée is in heaven.”
“Wow.” I shook my head. “So… an art gallery?”
“Yeah.” Joy looped around his every word. “You have to see it. I can arrange for a car to pick you up around seven. The exhibition starts at eight. Does that sound good?”
I stared at the computer screen. I still had so many shots to watch for my latest project. “I don’t know, Lucas. I’m kind of in the middle of a project right now.” The work could wait. It was seeing parts of my past with Hudson I was trying to avoid.
“You have to come, Hartley. Please. For me?”
I chewed on the end of a pen. I could picture Lucas’ big, puppy dog eyes pleading with me. Deep down, my stomach was stirring, buzzing. I was going to go. I was too curious, the editor in me desperate to learn his full story.
“Okay,” I said with a small sigh. I heard his hands clap and giggled.
“Great! See you at eight then.”
“See you,” I said, hanging up.
I leaned back. A stampede of thoughts pummeled through my mind. I knew little about Lucas, save what I learned from him at his New Year’s Eve party, and one of those things was that he was into art. What kind of a gallery had he purchased? And why now? Why here?
But mostly, why had Hudson sold the restaurant?
Was I ready to step back into the shadow of Hudson’s world? Sure, it was only Lucas. He was safe. A friend of sorts. But there were memories attached to his heels that I’d have no choice but to face. Memories that only belonged to the inky darkness of night, when the stars were out and the pillows collected my tears.
I couldn’t confront them alone.
Safety in numbers, I thought when I brought up my recent call log. My finger hovered briefly over the phone number.
I let out a slow breath, gathered my thoughts, and then tapped the call button.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Mom. Do you have plans tonight?”
“THIS IS SO FANCY,” MOM said as she reached into the bucket and pulled out a bottle of expensive champagne. “And you said this friend of yours used to work at a diner in Florida?”
“He invests in stocks in his spare time,” I explained, jumping to the right as the cork my mother popped sailed past my ear.
“Oh my.” She giggled, froth spewing from the top. She was dressed in black linen pants and a floral silk top. Her red hair was twisted in an updo with a few curls loose,
framing her oval face. She was more vibrant than I remembered, like life had given her a makeover.
“Mom.” I grabbed a towel, wrapping it around the neck of the bottle. Sometimes I felt like I was more of the mother than she was. “This isn’t our limo. We shouldn’t be messing with stuff.”
“What?” She feigned innocence. “Clearly this friend of yours meant for this to be consumed. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be back here. Live a little, for Christ’s sake.”
She filled two flutes, and then handed one to me.
I downed it.
She was right there, topping me off again before taking a sip from hers.
“Since when do you drink?” I asked, watching as she gingerly sipped from her glass.
“What are you? The drinking police? I can have champagne if I want.” A healthy flush spread along her collarbone. It always did when she drank alcohol, even just a sip.
It felt funny, watching this new person in front of me. Her eyes were lit up. Her frown left somewhere in the dust of her past. It made me think about love, and its power to heal. I had that chance, and I ran from it like a coward.
“So, tell me. Why the nerves?” Her voice was a wench, pulling me from the sludge of my memories.
I watched the city lights pass by in a starry blur behind her. A symphony of colors, the vein of the city pumping excitement into the night air. “What nerves?” I asked, tone neutral. Face pressed in blank lines.
She pursed her lips at me, the air giggling between us. Of course I wouldn’t be able to slide one past her. That was the art of motherhood. Eyes-on-the-back-of-their-head kind of thing.
“Hartley, I’m your mother. I know you. You haven’t stopped fidgeting since you got in this limo.”
We turned onto Hollywood Boulevard, and my heart leapt into my throat. “I’m not fidgeting.” I read the names of the buildings behind her. Tried to focus on anything other than how close we were to our destination.
The Roots of Us Page 22