Southern Sunrise

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Southern Sunrise Page 2

by Madison, Natasha


  “How did you know where I was?” I ask, and he smiles.

  “You should know by now, Ethan, that I knew where you were the second you enlisted,” he says with all the cockiness Casey can. He looks just the same as he did the day I took off except he now has a bit of white in his hair. I wonder how Olivia is, and the feeling of longing fills me. I shut it down before I start to wonder about the other person I left behind.

  “Good for you,” I say, the chip on my shoulder bigger than it’s ever been. “Now, you can forget you saw me and fuck off.”

  “Big words for a big man,” he says, not even flinching at my words. “You finished with your tantrum?”

  “You finished talking?” I counter.

  “You almost lost your life,” he says, his voice getting tight. “Doesn’t that make you see?”

  “The only thing it makes me see is the next time I have to be more cautious,” I tell him. “Did you tell anyone?”

  “No,” he says. “It’s not my place to tell them. But your mother, she isn’t -”

  “I don’t care,” I say, stopping him from talking, my heart in my throat when I think of the last time I saw her. I regretted that moment more than anything in my whole life. But what’s done is done, and there is no going back. “No regrets” is my new motto.

  “It’s time you come home and face the music, Ethan,” he says. “If not for you, then for your family.”

  “I don’t have a family!” I shout, and the hurt is even more than it was five years ago. “The only family I did have died right beside me on the battlefield.”

  “You know deep in your heart that isn’t true.” His voice stays low. “You know that.”

  “I know nothing,” I say. “And what I do know is that for my whole life, I was lied to and made to believe something that wasn’t even true.” I sit up, ignoring the stinging of the wound and the fact it’s probably opened and bleeding again. “That is what I know.” He shakes his head and doesn’t say anything. Instead, he walks over to the side of the bed, and I see him take something out of his pocket. I wonder if he’s going to show me a picture of my mom and my dad. Or maybe he’s going to show me how much Chelsea has grown. Instead, he places a key right beside my hand. “What is this?”

  “That is the only time I’m going to extend the olive branch,” he starts to tell me. “I promised that I wouldn’t say anything to you.” I want to ask who he promised this to. “I said I would just come and make sure you’re okay. See it with my own eyes instead of hearing it from someone else. I wanted to make sure if anything happened to you, I would be the one telling your parents and not that they bury you with no one knowing.”

  “They would bury me with my brothers,” I tell him.

  “You can change your name fifteen times, but at the end of the day, you are still Ethan McIntyre.” He turns around and starts to walk out of the room.

  “Ethan McIntyre died five years ago,” I tell him, and he looks back at me.

  “See you soon, Ethan,” he tells me.

  He doesn’t wait for me to answer. Instead, I watch him walk out of the room and past the nurses’ station. I wait until I know he’s gone before I let the lone tear slip out. I wipe the tear and make my heartrate come back down. “Don’t bet on it.”

  Chapter Three

  Emily

  Five months later

  “Please note that I’ll be giving a pop quiz sometime next week.” All the kids groan, and I smile. “Oh, please.” I lean back on my desk in front of the whiteboard. “I’m giving you a heads-up, so it’s not really a pop quiz.”

  “Yeah, but then it just has us all nervous,” Chelsea says, leaning back in her chair, and I just shake my head. “It’s rough, Miss Emily.”

  “I can imagine how rough it is.” I roll my eyes. “You have to spend less time on TikTok and more time reading,” I say, and the bell rings. The students get up and gather their things to rush out of the class. It’s usually like this during the last class on Friday because everyone is excited about the upcoming weekend. Even me.

  “I’m going to study.” Chelsea stops in front of me, and I just smile. “Are you still coming over for Sunday brunch?” she asks. I nod my head, and she claps her hands together. “Cool, see you there.” She comes in and gives me a hug. “See you Sunday, Miss Emily.” She walks out of class, and I walk over to the whiteboard and erase everything, the diamond ring on my finger glistening in the light.

  Turning, I sit back down at the desk, gathering the papers and cleaning up for the weekend. Teaching high school students never crossed my mind. When I decided at seventeen that I wanted to be a teacher, I thought kindergarten or maybe second grade. I never thought I had it in me to teach the older kids. But when you get your heart broken, and it’s shattered at nineteen, you become so numb that you don’t think anything will bother you. I graduated from school ahead of time because I took a full schedule and even went to classes during the summer. I had nothing else to do, and no one else to worry about but myself. I also thought I would escape the town as soon as I graduated, but I just couldn’t take that big step. I couldn’t move away. A piece of me had to stay in place in case he came back. It was stupid and naïve, and after two years, I finally got it that he was never coming back.

  I blink the tears away whenever I think of Ethan and what we had. It obviously meant nothing to him; I obviously meant nothing to him. The promises he made were empty, and I deserved better. It took me a long time to move on, and Ethan would always own a piece of my heart.

  A knock on the door makes me look up, and I see Drew. “Hey there, gorgeous.” He comes in wearing a blue suit with his blond hair perfectly styled. The smile on his face makes his blue eyes light up. “I was hoping you would still be here.”

  “Hey, you.” I smile and stand as he comes over and kisses my cheek. “This is a nice surprise.”

  “Yeah, I had a meeting in the area.” He puts his hands in his pockets. “So I thought I would swing by and see if you wanted to get an early bite to eat.”

  “Sure,” I say, gathering all my stuff. “How about I meet you at the diner?”

  “That sounds good,” he says. “Maybe we can do a movie night tonight, and I can make you breakfast in bed.”

  “Yeah, let’s talk about it at the diner,” I tell him, not willing to have this conversation in the middle of my workplace. He just nods his head at me and comes in again, kissing my cheek and walking out.

  I started dating Drew a year ago, and to be honest, we just fell into it. We used to hang out together with Ethan since they were best friends, and when Ethan cut us both out of his life, we had each other. We started hanging out when he came back home from college to take over his father's insurance company. One thing led to another, and he proposed six months ago. I want to say I said yes because I love him with everything I have, but I didn’t. I said yes because he threw me this amazing birthday party and invited all my loved ones and got down on one knee.

  No one knows that I stayed up the night before in my hammock, looking up at the stars until sunrise just as I have been doing since I was sixteen. I don’t know where Ethan is, and I don’t know if he even remembers the date or cares, but deep in my heart, I imagine that he wishes me a happy birthday at sunrise each year. Wherever he is, he looks up, and for that one day, we do the same thing.

  After I turn off the light in the room and walk out, I keep my head down, avoiding any eyes. The last thing I want is the town talking about how Drew visited me, and I left with tears in my eyes. I get in my car and make my way over to the diner. I spot Drew outside on his phone as he paces back and forth in front of the diner. He spots me and stops talking, hanging up the phone right away. “Hey.” He reaches for my hand.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask, pointing at the phone.

  “Oh, yeah, just my father,” he tells me as we walk into the diner. He holds the door open for me like he always does. I smile at him and walk in, seeing a couple of parents and the kids all wave at us.<
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  “We should have taken it to go,” Drew says, guiding us to a booth at the end of the room. “So then you can relax.”

  “I am relaxed,” I tell him, sliding into the booth. “This is fine.”

  He takes off his jacket and tosses it in the corner of the booth. It should make me want to slide into the booth with him, wrap my hands around his neck, and kiss him. Instead, it just makes me smile. Looking out the window, I wonder what’s going on with me. I’ve been a bit out of it for a couple of weeks now. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like something is coming or something is going to change, and I don’t know what it is.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks, and I nod. “Me, too.”

  “I had a granola bar for lunch,” I tell him, and his eyes narrow. “I had a meeting with a student, and then I was on duty.”

  “I told you to start making a lunch,” he says. “Or we can finally move in together, and I can make you lunch.” I avoid the way he looks at me.

  “I told you before,” I start to say. “I don’t think it’s a good idea until we decide where we want to live.”

  “I think the first step is for you to pick a date.” He smirks at me.

  “Oh, trust me, I know. Your mother keeps bringing me the bridal and wedding magazines once a month with some of the pages folded down for me to look at.” I look around the diner and see how everything has changed in five years. In the beginning, I used to walk in, and everyone would look at me with pity, and the whispers were always the same.

  Poor thing is still waiting for him.

  Poor thing looks like she hasn’t eaten since he left.

  Poor thing will never move on. One doesn’t forget their first love.

  “They want to book the country club,” he tells me. “In order to do this, we need to know.”

  “What if I wanted to get married in the backyard and have a barbecue reception?” I suggest, and he scoffs.

  “Honey, you know that my parents want us to have a huge wedding. I’m their only son,” he says, and I just nod. We place our orders, and I change the subject to talk about his work.

  “I have to go out of town,” he says. “My father is hoping to open two more branches in other towns. I might have to be gone for two weeks.”

  “That’s a long time. Will you come home on the weekends?” I ask when the plates are placed in front of us. He grabs his burger and bites into it.

  “I was hoping that you would come up to see me.” I grab my fork and throw around the salad on my plate.

  “It’s almost end of the year,” I tell him. “I have so much to do to prepare, and then you know I like to give extra help to the students who need it.” Something I always wanted when I was a student their age was a teacher who would give her time if she knew I needed help. So, it was a no-brainer once I got my position for the English department.

  “You aren’t paid to do that,” he says, and I feel my blood pressure start to rise. In the beginning, he was supportive and would even offer to come and help. As he got busier at work, he slowly started losing his interest in my teaching as he became more involved in himself.

  “I don’t get paid to offer extra help in the morning,” I say, grabbing a piece of chicken and putting it in my mouth. Suddenly, I just want to leave and put a pizza in the oven at home. “But I do it anyway because if my students are successful and the class average is high, it shows that I’m doing my job.”

  “Okay, don’t get your panties all in a twist,” he says to me, and I just shake my head.

  I’m about to throw down my fork and walk out of the diner. But that would only get more people talking, so I swallow it down. “What do you say we swing by your house and you grab a bag for the weekend?”

  “Um …” I look at him. “I have a couple of things to do at home.” I scramble to think of something in case he asks for specifics. “But how about I come over tomorrow night? We can cook together and then have a movie marathon.”

  “Or you can just do whatever you need to do next week when I’m not here,” he tells me, finishing his meal.

  “There is brunch at Billy and Charlotte's house on Sunday,” I remind him. It’s a weekly thing, but I usually only go a couple of times a month. It’s not their fault that Ethan left; it has nothing to do with them.

  “Why do we have to go there again?” he asks. “I mean, we went two weeks ago.”

  I don’t tell him the truth because I don’t want to hurt him. I go because it’s the last piece that I have of Ethan. Being around his mother, his father, his sister, brothers, cousins, it’s a piece of him. “Well, if you don’t want to come, you don’t have to.” I grab the glass of water off the table and bring it to my mouth.

  “Why don’t we just see how we feel on Sunday morning?” he says. “We could always go visit my parents,” he says, not giving me a chance to argue. “So are you packing a bag for tonight?” He reaches over the table and puts his hand on mine.

  I’m about to break it to him that the only thing I’m doing tonight is going home and slipping into my pjs and maybe eating a pint of ice cream when the door opens. I hear the bell over the door, but nothing, and I mean nothing can prepare me for what comes next. It happens in slow motion, or maybe it’s just like that in my head.

  The whispers start, and I think I hear a couple of forks clatter on the table. There are also gasps, and my eyes raise slowly, and my heart stops. After five years, I always imagined the moment he would come back. I also imagined I would be ready for it, but nothing could have prepared me for this moment. His name comes out in a whisper. “Ethan.”

  Chapter Four

  Ethan

  I’ve been pushed to the brink of death. I’ve made it through all my military training. I’ve stared into the eyes of evil people. And I’ve done it without batting an eye or without my heart beating faster.

  But this, standing here in the middle of the diner, in the middle of the town that I left five years ago scares the shit out of me. I listen to the whispers I know are going to come, and I even hear a couple of forks clatter. I’m ready for whatever is going to come my way, but what I’m not ready for is to see her this soon after getting to town. My body goes on alert right away when I feel her blue eyes on me. I turn her way, and it is so much worse than I thought it would be. My heart hurts, my stomach roils, and my whole body locks. I don’t hear her say my name, but I read her lips. She is just as shocked as everyone is. “Holy shit.” I hear and then look at my best friend, who’s sitting in front of Emily. “Fucking hell, look who rolled back into town.” He shakes his head, and I guess I deserve that. I deserve it all. I left five years ago, and I didn’t reach out to anyone. For me, this part of me died when I left.

  I nod at him, and I’m about to take a step into the diner when the door opens behind me, and it’s my turn to be stunned. I knew coming back to town was going to shock everyone. I knew that by going to the diner, everyone in town would know. The daisy chain or phone calls would start, and it would get back to everyone that I was back in town. But sometimes, or most times, things never end up like you think they will. This is one of those times.

  I turn around, and I’m face-to-face with Chelsea. She’s looking down as she walks into the diner, but then she stops and looks up, and her mouth hangs open in shock when she sees me. The shock she feels turns into anger, and I see her eyes flash. “What the fuck are you doing here?” she says, and I look at her.

  “Watch your mouth,” I say, not thinking that she is now seventeen years old. She looks just like Mom, her black hair is long to her waist, and she has crystal blue eyes. She is so beautiful, and I want to take her in my arms and hug her. I want to tease her like I did when she was younger. I want to put her in a headlock and mess up her hair. Seeing her all grown up just shows me what I’ve missed.

  “You don’t get to tell me to watch my mouth,” she hisses. I see the huge tears in her eyes, but she is just like Mom as she blinks them away. “You don’t get to tell me jack shit. You
lost that right.” She advances on me, not even caring that I tower over her nor that I can pick her up with one hand. She has no fear in her eyes, none.

  “I hate you,” she hisses. I’m ready to take her in my arms and let her hate me all she wants. I just don’t want to see her crying. But I don’t get a chance because Emily has approached and now stands by her side.

  My eyes fly to her, and my heart speeds up, just knowing she is within my reach. I take her all in as though I’m memorizing a military operation. She looks the same, maybe a bit thinner but still as beautiful as she was when I first kissed her all those years ago. All I can think about is messing her hair up and seeing if she still tastes like strawberries and still gets shivers when I kiss her right behind the ear. I wonder so many things.

  And if seeing her didn’t hurt me enough, smelling her and having her so close is like getting kicked in the balls. The hurt and pain are so unimaginable. I was tortured for two weeks one time—I was whipped, beaten, branded, you name it—but this right here is a million times worse.

  “He’s not worth it,” Emily says, the words gutting me. “Just breathe.” Chelsea looks over at her, and she blinks as the tears run down her face.

  “You have no idea what you did when you left.” Chelsea turns around, looking at me. “You have no idea what happened after you left because you didn’t fucking care.” My heart starts to speed up. “Why don’t you do everyone a favor and leave?” She turns and storms out of the diner.

  Emily starts to follow her out, but my hand reaches out, grasping her arm. She stops in her tracks, her whole body going tight. She looks at her arm, her eyes fixated on my hand, then she rips her arm away from me and puts her left hand on her arm where my hand was just touching her and it’s then I see the rock on her finger. It is almost blinding and so unlike her.

 

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