Southern Sunrise

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Southern Sunrise Page 11

by Madison, Natasha


  I close my eyes as he pulls away from the bar, and the phone rings again. “Give it to me,” Jenna says, reaching over the front seats to grab the phone. She puts it on speaker, and the sound of moaning fills the car.

  “Bite my nipples just like that,” the girl says, breathing heavily. “I love it when you fuck my ass.”

  “Hang it up!” Brett and Ethan both yell, and I look over at Ethan.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” I say.

  “Do you mean you’re going to be sick, sick? Like barfing sick?” he asks, driving faster, looking over at me, “or is this like sickening?”

  I look at him, and I’m numb. “That motherfucking,” Jenna says from the back, and she now calls him. The sound of ringing fills the car.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Brett shouts from beside her, trying to get the phone away from her, but she pushes his hand away from her.

  There is the sound of rustling again, and then he whispers when he answers, “Hello? Baby?”

  “Baby, my fucking ass!” Jenna yells at him.

  “What, who is this?” he asks, confused. “What the fuck is going on?” The sound of rustling fills the car, and I have to close my eyes. “Wait, Jenna? Where is Emily?” he asks, his voice rising.

  “I can tell you where she isn’t,” she snaps at him. “She isn’t in the car with you while you fuck her ass, douchebag.”

  “What are you talking about?” He pretends to be confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Check your call history, dipshit,” she says, and she hangs up on him.

  The truck comes to a stop, and when I open my eyes, I see that we are at my house. “Can you walk, or do you want me to carry you?” Ethan asks quietly from beside me, and I just shake my head. Slipping open the truck door, I walk up my front steps, then stop at the front door and turn around on them. Ethan is at the top step right behind me while Jenna is being helped by Brett, who is whispering something to her.

  “How did I not know?” I look at Jenna and Brett to see if either of them knew anything, but they have no answers whatsoever. “Like how did I never even suspect it?” Ethan stands there with his arms crossed over his chest. Brett stands next to him now, and Jenna is rolling her eyes.

  “You didn’t even let him see you naked,” she says out loud, and I want to kill her. She sees my face and puts her hand in front of her mouth. Then turns to look at the guys. “No one heard that.”

  “Okay,” Brett says. “It’s time for us to go.” He picks her up and tosses her over his shoulder, then he looks at Ethan. “You got this?”

  Ethan nods at him, but his eyes never leave mine. “You don’t have to stay,” I say as I turn around and go in my house. “Actually, it might be better if you go.” He follows me in and walks to the kitchen, grabbing the kettle and putting water in it before turning the stove on. “What are you doing?”

  “Making coffee,” he says, opening the cupboards. “If I know Drew, he should be here in three hours, depending on where he is.” He finally finds the things he needs to make coffee. “And whatever you guys talk about, it should be done with you being semi sober.”

  “I am sober,” I say. “I mean, I’m not going to lie. I was a little buzzed. But nothing like listening to your fiancé fuck someone’s ass to sober you up.”

  He leans against the counter, and my phone starts to ring again. He walks over to it and picks it up. “It’s Drew.”

  “Don’t answer it,” I say, and he just places it down on the counter. “I don’t think you should be here when he gets here.”

  “I’m not leaving him alone with you,” he says, and all I can do is shake my head.

  “This has nothing to do with you,” I say. I’m about to say something else when we hear a car door slam.

  I look at Ethan. “I thought he was out of town.” We both turn and look at the front door that swings open, and Drew comes in. He’s wearing his suit and a button-down shirt that looks like it’s all buttoned wrong. His hair looks like it’s been pulled, and he doesn’t look like the perfectly kept man who he usually is. His eyes go from me to Ethan and then back to mine.

  “Well, isn’t this interesting,” he hisses when he sees Ethan in the kitchen. “I get now why you wanted to stay home this weekend.”

  I put up one of my hands now. “Hold on, are you seriously going to turn this around on me?” I ask. “You.” I point at him, then to myself. “Cheated on me. I heard all of it.”

  “Please.” He rolls his eyes, putting his hands on his hips. “You’ve been cheating on me since he got back into town.”

  “What?” I ask, shocked and appalled.

  “Watch it,” Ethan growls out.

  “Fuck you,” he hisses out to him, then turns to me. “You’ve never gotten over him.” He points at Ethan. “Do you know what it’s been like for me to wait for you to finally get over him?” I listen to him as his voice gets louder. “We’ve been together for two years, and you won’t even sleep with me.” He throws his hands up in the air.

  “Hold on a second,” I say, now turning to Ethan. “You have to leave.” He looks at me, not sure. “I’ll be fine. This isn’t your problem.” He just nods at me and then walks over to Drew and leans down.

  “If you hurt her,” he says, his voice low, “they won’t ever find you.” I’ve never heard Ethan be anything but nice, but nothing is nice about that sentence.

  “Why don’t you crawl back under that rock you’ve been hiding under for the past five fucking years?” he says again to Ethan, who just looks back at me then walks out of the house. I know he isn’t leaving. I can feel it in my soul that he won’t leave me with Drew. I wait for the door to close before I start talking.

  “I never cheated on you,” I tell him as tears come to my eyes. “Not once in all the time we were together was I unfaithful to you.”

  “You’re lying!” he shouts. “How many times did you pretend I was Ethan? How many times did you wish I was him?”

  “When I was with you, I was with you, Drew. And only you,” I say, and since this is over, I don’t hold my tongue. “I was with you. I told you from the beginning that my heart was healing. I told you that it would take time. I never lied to you about that.”

  “Take time.” He shakes his head. “How much more time did you need? It’s been five fucking years.”

  “So, the answer to that would be to cheat on me?” I ask. “Instead of waiting for me, or talking it out with me, or better yet, walking away from me, you think it’s okay to fuck someone else?” I shake my head. “You had sex with this person, and from the sounds of it, it was not the first time.”

  He looks down now, avoiding my eyes. “I shouldn’t have done it. I know that, but come on.” He runs his hands through his hair. “I was like a puppy waiting for a treat.”

  “I never intended for you to feel like that. I never wanted you to feel that way,” I say softly.

  “Do you still love him?” he asks. “After all this, after he hurt you so bad, do you still love him?”

  “A part of me will never stop loving him.” I’m honest with him. “It’s the same answer I gave you when you asked me to marry you. Nothing has changed. I don’t think anything will ever change that. A part of me will always love him.” I shrug. “I was never dishonest about that.”

  “I guess I always hoped you would love me like that,” he says. “I waited and waited.”

  “Obviously, the waiting was over,” I say. I take the ring off and walk to him. “This is yours.” I hand it to him, and he shakes his head.

  “What are you going to tell people?” he asks, and I want to laugh. He really doesn’t even care that he hurt me. He’s more worried about what I’m going to say.

  “What do you want to tell people?” I ask, and he looks down and then up.

  “We can say we grew apart.” I nod at him. “I would have loved you with everything I had.”

  I look at him. “No, you wouldn’t.” He looks sh
ocked. “If you would have, you wouldn’t have done what you did. You wouldn’t have looked at someone else.” He nods at me and walks out of the house, and just like that, another chapter in my life is over.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ethan

  I watch him drive away from the backyard, and I’m about to walk up to the door when the lights inside turn off, leaving it in darkness. I sit down and wait to see if she changes her mind, and all I can do is think about how her face was when she found out he was cheating. It was the definition of defeat, her shoulders slumped, and only when he accused her of still loving me did they go up tight again.

  I wait another hour, then I finally make myself leave, slipping into bed at close to four a.m. I didn’t think I would be able to fall asleep, but when I did, it was the first night without waking up in a pool of my sweat and the sound of myself screaming.

  Walking to the barn to work out, I look up and see that the clouds seem to be coming in faster. I open the barn door, leaving it open to get some air in, and I start to work out. I run to clear my mind, but the only thing going through my mind today is Emily. I wonder if she is okay. Did she sleep last night or did she cry herself to sleep?

  I don’t even notice that I’m sweating through my shirt, and when I stop running to take a drink of water, I take it off, tossing it on the mat. My chest is rising and falling as I drink my water and try to get my heartbeat back to normal. I set the water down and look up to see her walking toward the barn. She is wearing tight blue jeans with holes in the knee and a white loose sleeveless shirt tucked in the front and white sneakers. She looks down as she walks over to me, and only when she feels me watching does she looks up. She almost stops in her tracks, but I raise my hand to say hello.

  “Hey there,” I say when she is close enough to hear me.

  “Hi,” she says, putting her hair behind her ear. “I tried the doorbell, but then I heard the music coming from the barn.”

  “That’s fine,” I say, and I see that she’s wringing her fingers. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so,” she tells me. “I just wanted to come thank you for last night. You didn’t have to do what you did.” She swallows now, and I want to wrap my hand on the side of her neck and pull her to me. She looks down and then up again, and I see that she is looking at my scars. “Are you okay?” She points at the scars on my ribs.

  I laugh now. “I mean, I’m as good as new.” She looks at me. “This?” I point at the scar that is fading from an angry purple to pink. “This is where they shot me.”

  She gasps. “Who shot you?”

  “Um, it’s kind of classified.” I smirk at her. “But they were not good people.”

  “I heard that you joined the military,” she says, and I nod my head. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

  “Thank you,” I say and bend to pick up my shirt. “Do you want to maybe have coffee?”

  “I should go,” she says, but her feet don’t move.

  “Are you sure? I was going to make one for myself anyway. How about you sit outside and just relax?” I say, and she walks back with me to the house. She sits outside on the swing hanging under the back porch. I make coffee as fast as the water can come out. The whole time I’m looking outside to see that she is still there. I grab a couple of muffins that my grandmother brought over yesterday. “Em.” I call her name, and she comes in. “I don’t know how you take your coffee. You never drank coffee when we were together.”

  “I don’t drink it now, either,” she tells me and smiles. “I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

  I laugh at her now. “I can make tea.” I open the fridge. “I have some tea already made if you want it cold.”

  “That sounds good,” she tells me as I fill a glass. She takes it from me and turns to walk out to sit back on the swing. I walk behind her and sit next to her, rubbing my hands on my legs to make the nerves go away.

  “This is weird, right?” she asks, bringing the tea to her lips. “Us sitting here like this.”

  “I don’t think it’s weird per se.” I smile at her. “Awkward, maybe, but not weird.” She looks ahead. “I want to get to know you again,” I say, and she looks over at me. “I want to know what your favorite thing to eat is. I want to know that you still don’t drink coffee but drink tea. I want to know—” I’m about to say something else when she cuts me off.

  “You want to know what you missed in the five years you’ve been gone.” She finishes the sentence for me. “I don’t know if I can do that,” she says softly. “Getting over you was the hardest thing I had to do in my whole life.” Her hands start to shake, and I want to reach out and hold her hand in mine, bringing it to my lips. “I don’t know if I can do it again.” She wipes a tear away.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I say. “I’m staying.”

  “For how long?” she asks, and I look over at her.

  “I told you I wanted it back, and I meant it. I want you back. I want my life back.” She is about to say something, but I hold up my hand. “I know I have to earn it back, and that is my goal. I’ve never gotten over you.” I look at my hands. “I wanted to wait before I told you this story, the whole story, but I’ll share a little bit of it. I died five months ago,” I say, and the tears fall as soon as I say the words. “I died, and the only thing on my lips was your name.”

  “Ethan.” She whispers my name.

  “The next time I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital bed. I didn’t even know what happened to me until five months later. It came crashing back to me one night in a nightmare. I was back in that dark dungeon of a room lying on the dirt. Lying there with my eyes barely open and the taste of metal in my mouth, I told God that if I survived this, I would come home. I would face my family. I wanted it back. I wanted to hug my mother and tease her for being so small. I wanted to stand by my father and have him be proud of me. I wanted him to slap me on the shoulder and then give me a hug. I wanted to tease Chelsea and Amelia about boys. I wanted to be the one they came to with problems. I wanted to go riding with my brothers, but most of all.” I look at her, making sure she sees my eyes. “I wanted to be the man who stood beside you and made you smile. I wanted my life back.”

  “Ethan …” she says, and I don’t know if she wants to tell me it will never happen. I don’t know what she’s going to say because the sound of thunder makes her jump. Neither of us says anything as we look out at the rain that is now pouring down. I don’t want to say anything in case she decides that she is going to go, so I just sit here and take in the moment. The downpour doesn’t last long before the clouds move out, and the sun shines bright. “Okay.”

  “What?” I look over at her and see that she has tears running down her face.

  “Okay, we can get to know each other,” she says. “As friends, if nothing more comes of it.”

  “Was he telling the truth?” I look at her. “Did you never sleep with him?”

  She gets up now. “That’s none of your business.” She puts the glass down and then tries to walk away, but I grab her hand, and she stops and looks down, seeing her hand in mine.

  “I haven’t been with anyone either,” I say and let go of her hand. “I just wanted you to know.” She doesn’t say anything. She just walks down the steps and around to the front of the house. I want to follow her and see if our kisses still make my whole body come alive, but instead, I give her the space she needs.

  * * *

  When I slip out of the truck at my grandparents' house, I look around to see if she is there, but I don’t spot her anywhere. I walk in and spot Chelsea with Amelia right next to her. “Why does this look like trouble?” I say, and they both look down. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing,” Amelia says, trying to hide her smile.

  “Absolutely nothing,” Chelsea says, and they turn to walk away. I say hello to my grandparents and then go in search of the person I have next on my list to talk to.

  I see her right away, laughing with Olivia. I walk up to
them and smile at them. “You girls look like Chelsea and Amelia planning something.” It makes them laugh even more. “I was wondering if we could talk,” I tell Kallie, who just looks at me. “It’s fine if you don’t want to.”

  “Of course.” She gets up and puts her arm around my waist. “Anything for my boy.” I put my arm around her, and we walk away from the noise of kids running and adults talking. “This is nice,” she says, hugging me closer to her.

  “It is,” I say. “I never got to thank you.” My arm brings her close to me.

  “Thank me?” she asks.

  “From the moment you met me, you loved me unconditionally,” I say as we near the fence all the way at the end of the property.

  “It was love at first sight,” she says, and I look at her, her blond hair blowing in the light wind. “You know that, right?”

  “I do,” I say. “I’m sorry for leaving.” My voice comes out softly. “The way I left especially. You …” I look down. “You were the one most hurt when I was born. You gave up everything for me, and then when you came back, you just loved me with no more questions asked.”

  “I loved you because you were an amazing young boy,” she says, wiping tears away from her eyes. “I also loved you because you were a part of your father, and I loved him with everything.”

  “How could you?” I ask. “How could you love me when I hurt you so much?”

  “You didn’t hurt me,” she tells me and then grabs my face. “Your father did what he needed to do for you, and I accepted that. Your father would have walked through the eye of the storm for you.” The tears slip off her chin. “He’s not the same man he was.” She shocks me. “He pretends he is, but a piece of him is missing. He still sets the table with an extra plate. He still buys you presents on your birthday and Christmas.”

  “What?” I ask, shocked.

  “Losing Gabriel was hard for him. He mourned the little boy who he created, but losing you, losing you …” Her bottom lip quivered. “He lost the boy he loved from when you were first placed in his arms. He lost the boy he taught things to, he lost the boy he raised, he lost the man who he helped you become. You can say that he isn’t your father, but we both know that isn’t true. Just as you can’t tell me I’m not your mother. I may not have birthed you, and I may not have held you the first day, but I was the one who used to read you bedtime stories. I was the one who drove you to your practices and held your hand when you were scared. I was the one who waited with bated breath at your rodeos. I was the one who punished you when you snuck out all those times, and I was the one who looked away most times.” She winks at me. “To me, that means more to me than what blood runs through you. I ran away once.” She swallows. “So I know how you feel. I thought the whole world was against me. I pretended I was okay every single day for eight years. I even convinced myself I was okay until I stepped back into town, and I knew I wasn’t okay. You had to run away, and I get it. If anyone can understand it, it’s me.”

 

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