“It must be hard for you, knowing he’s gone.” There was no mistaking the tenderness in his voice, as if he still cared about me, though it had been a lifetime since we had meant anything to one another.
I shrugged my shoulders. Part of me wanted to tell him all my deepest thoughts and feelings, to divulge everything that lived inside me, like I would have back when he was my best friend. But another part of me knew that he didn’t fill that role in my life and that we were no more than strangers now who happened to share a piece of our past.
“It’s been hard all these years, wondering where he is and if he’ll ever come back. I guess I have a sense of closure now, knowing that he’s gone and that he’ll never be a part of my life again.” I told this to Drew knowing that I felt the opposite of closure, that I would live forever with the simple yet complex question of “Why?” That I would never be able to confront my father to get the answers to the questions that have haunted me over the years. The years that I struggled to understand how a father could be so loving, supportive, and present one day and the next just walk away as if his children had never existed. I had struggled with the notion that I wasn’t good enough or that he hadn’t loved me enough, and I know that this struggle still lives inside me—the root of all evil so to speak.
“Anyway, thanks for the ride,” I said, trying to change the subject and to find a break in the conversation so that I could flee back to the cabin.
He shook his head back and forth, smiling. “Gemma Lang. I can’t believe it.” We both opened our doors at the same time and climbed out of the Jeep. “Can I walk you to the cabin?” he asked.
“Thank you but I can manage,” I said, fidgeting with the shoulder strap of my purse.
He stood facing me in the driveway, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “All right then.”
“Bye, Andrew.” I waved as I slowly made my way down the driveway toward the road that ran between our cabins. I stopped when I got to the end and turned to add, “Hey, Drew! It was really good to see you.”
He stopped to look at me from the porch where he was about to step inside, a smile splayed across his face. “It was good to see you too, Gem.”
I walked to my cabin with a smile on my face, remembering what it felt like to have this amazing boy in my life.
Nine
I could feel the rough skin of his palm against my mouth, the taste of salt causing my stomach to convulse. I struggled to breathe through my nose, the pressure he held against my mouth making this a difficult task. My heart beat hard in my chest, fear gripping my insides. He pressed his body against me from behind as he held one hand across my mouth and the other underneath my shirt against the bare skin of my stomach, his pelvis grinding against my backside. I could feel how erect he was, and my mind was frantic, trying to predict his next move.
I felt his whiskey-drenched breath against my neck as he spoke in hushed whispers in my ear. “You know you want this as much as I do, Gemma. Just be good and stay quiet.”
The alcohol that I had consumed was clouding my thoughts, but the voice inside my head was screaming, “Run.” I was frozen, my body heavy and unable to move. Why was this happening? He turned me around and pushed me down, hard, into a pile of brush. It caught me off guard, and, before I could even think to scramble away from him, he had his jeans pulled down and was on top of me. His weight was crushing me, pinning me in place, and I could feel stabs of pain where the sharp edge of rocks and branches pierced the skin of my back and bare legs.
My senses caught up with me, and I tried to wiggle out from underneath him, clawing at his face with my hands. He quickly had my arms pinned above my head with one hand as his other hand made its way up my skirt. I was no match for his six foot three, 220-pound frame. I felt helpless, and so I began to beg.
“Please don’t do this. Please . . .”
***
I woke to a shrill cry, startling me, until I realized that it was coming from my own mouth. I was drenched in sweat, my heart pounding in my chest. The visions from my familiar nightmare flashing through my mind. I hadn’t dreamed of him for years. Being here was bringing it all back. I had worked so hard to overcome what had happened, putting it all behind me so that I could move forward without the constant fear and the paralyzing memories. Maybe coming back was a mistake. I thought that I was stronger than this, that I had really moved beyond the past.
I was consumed in the moment with the fear and the shame, as if I had just experienced it all over again. I went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, trying to wash the images from my mind. There was no way I was going to fall back asleep. I tried to read a book, but I was restless, unable to sit still or comprehend the words on the page that I was reading. The cabin was eerily quiet, and I could feel the fear settling in. Refusing to be prisoner to the crippling emotion that had controlled my life years ago, I walked down to the dock, hoping that the cool fresh air would clear my head.
The first thing I noticed as I headed toward the water was how bright the sky was. Once the road opened up, revealing the beach and the calm lake, I took in the full moon and the trail of light that it imprinted on the smooth water. I smiled to myself at the beauty of it. I stepped onto the dock and could hear the water slosh beneath my weight in the quiet of the night. I sat with my legs folded in front of me, in awe of the moon and everything that it illuminated in its wake.
I turned to glance at Monroe Manor. The lights were on, a sharp contrast to the darkness of the cabins surrounding it. My gaze wandered to the Monroes’ dock, and I caught sight of a lone silhouette sitting at the edge, much like I was. I knew that it must be Drew, and I suddenly wanted to go to him. I stood and made my way back toward the beach, crossing the sand until I reached his dock. As I approached him, his voice rang out softly in the silence.
“I thought that might be you.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I admitted.
“Neither could I.” He patted the space beside him, so I sat down, pulling my knees into my chest and resting my cheek on one knee so that I could look at him. In the light of the moon, I could make out the strong curve of his jaw, his long eyelashes, and the hollow point of his cheek where his dimple rests. His legs were dangling off the end of the dock, submerged in the water where he moved his feet in slow circles, creating tiny waves. His arms were straight at his sides, his hands tucked underneath his thighs.
“It’s beautiful out here. I can’t believe that I stayed away for so long. I really missed it,” I said, unable to keep the deep sense of melancholy I felt from my voice.
“I really missed you, Gemma,” he said as he turned to face me, his eyes glowing in the moonlight. “What happened between us anyway? We were so close, once upon a time.”
I took in a deep breath. Was this a rhetorical question, or did he really not remember? Of course I would never forget, as much as I wanted to. But Drew’s memory of that night was so different from my own. While that night was significant to me in more ways than I cared to count, I realized that it may not be significant to Drew at all. The thought clutched my heart as my therapist’s words replayed in my head as a reminder. It is not his fault, Gemma.
“Wow, I don’t remember you ever being this quiet.” He laughed, pulling me from my reverie as I realized that I had never answered his question. “You seem so different. More reserved.”
“I am different, I guess. You definitely haven’t changed though.”
“Oh, yeah, and how do you figure that?”
“Well, you’re just as charming as ever and . . . straightforward. You still wear your heart on your sleeve.” I smiled, remembering him from all those years ago.
“And you can tell this from the few minutes that we’ve spent together?” He smirked.
“Yep. You’re still the same Andrew Monroe that I remember.”
“Well, Gemma Lang, you are a mystery to me. But one that I intend to solve,” he said, leaning toward me, gently bumping my bent leg with his elbow. His smile
lit up his eyes as he spoke. My maiden name sounded so natural coming from his lips—twice now—but I hadn’t been called that in so long.
“Walsh. Gemma Walsh,” I corrected him and immediately wished that I hadn’t. There was instantly an awkward vibe in the air that was not there before.
“Oh. Sorry. So tell me, Gemma Walsh, what is a married woman doing here all alone and unable to sleep in the middle of the night?”
I paused, looking out at the water. “Do you remember the time we were riding our bikes on the lake trail with Logan, and I fell off my bike and rolled down the embankment?” I asked, recalling a memory that had suddenly struck me.
“Yeah. What were we then? Twelve, thirteen?”
“Thirteen. I know, because it was the first summer that I spent here without my dad. Do you remember how scared I was? I think I knew I’d be fine, but everything hurt, and there was so much blood.” I had cut my knee on a rock during the fall, causing a gush of blood that looked far worse than the reality, which had been only three stitches’ worth of fuss.
“I was scared too. I remember wishing it had been me. It was hard to see you hurt. I was so protective of you.”
“I think that was the first time I realized it. That you would always protect me. I remember how safe you made me feel while we waited for Logan to go get help.” I hadn’t even cried until Drew had carried me up the embankment and held me close. His compassion had completely dissolved my will to be strong; I had allowed my tears to fall along with the wall that I had always protected myself with. It was as if, until that moment, I had forgotten what it was like to completely depend on someone else to catch me when I fell, like I had once with my father.
And now as a new perspective hit me, I realized that, in some ways, I had forgotten how to depend on Ryan. Instead, I had pushed him away, unwilling to share the burden of my failures. Although in the end, it was Ryan who had ultimately failed me. Just as Drew had eventually failed me on that night so long ago. A fresh wave of pain salted old wounds left behind by those who had disappointed me before, scars etched into my heart like tally marks.
I quickly swiped away a lonely tear that trailed slowly down my cheek before Drew noticed it. “I miss that,” I said quietly.
“Miss what?” Drew asked, glancing over at me.
I focused my attention on the whirlpool that he was creating with his feet as he continued to kick them in tiny circles.
“Feeling secure,” I muttered so softly that I could hardly hear myself. I hadn’t meant to say the words aloud; it was just a stirring inside my head, a rumbling inside my heart. I knew Drew had heard me though as his feet stilled, causing a deafening silence. I was so wrapped up in the memory. The way Drew had whispered, “Friends to infinity,” in my ear while he had held me close that day, feeling his love and strength wrap around me like a warm blanket on a cold night. Feeling certain that no matter what, Drew would always have my back. A feeling that, I sadly noted, seemed to come with consequences. As each time I let down my guard—accepting the vulnerability that comes with loving someone, really allowing myself to rely on another—the safety net was pulled out from underneath me, leaving me feeling more desperate and apprehensive then I had been to begin with.
“What do you mean, you don’t feel safe?” he asked with concern.
I cleared my throat and pushed away my heart-rending thoughts. I turned to look at Drew and quickly changed the subject yet again.
“So, you first. What are you doing here at the lake, all alone, and unable to sleep in the middle of the night? Escaping the corporate world?” I asked, genuinely curious as to why he was here. I had assumed that he would be knee-deep in the family business, jet-setting around the world with a trophy wife on his arm. Although I couldn’t really imagine Drew living like that, yet sometimes people change. I had just assumed that he would, once he was encompassed in his father’s world.
“I guess you could say that. I’m taking a little break from life for a while.” He turned back to the lake, his smile fading in the night. I understood the need to take a break all too well. That was exactly why I was here, not that I would admit that to anyone, least of all Andrew who had only been back in my life for a total of two seconds.
“So are you married?” I asked, my eyes falling on his left hand to check for a ring. Nothing, not even a tan line to indicate that a ring had once resided there.
“Nope,” he answered, popping his P like a child. He did not elaborate, forcing me to pry.
“Divorced?”
“Nope,” he said again, shaking his head from side to side.
“Gay?” I asked jokingly, but curiously. You never know.
This brought his face back to mine. He raised his eyebrows at me. “What do you think?”
I raised my hands up in surrender. “Hey, just checking.”
“Okay. Your turn. Judging by the rather large diamond on your finger and your new last name, I’m guessing that you’re married, right?”
I stared into Drew’s eyes for a beat and then down at my wedding ring, as I twirled it around my finger with my right hand, completely at a loss. His question should have an easy answer, yes or no. But unfortunately I wasn’t sure about my marital status. My marriage was in limbo. I felt a familiar stab of pain in my chest, one that I had been living with since the moment I had found Ryan in bed with someone else.
I thought back to the day that Ryan had proposed and had slipped this ring on my finger. It was a perfect spring day in Seattle, one of those days when people were thankful for the long, dreary months of rain, knowing that, without it, the surrounding beauty would not exist. I remembered feeling that sense of gratitude as Ryan and I strolled along Alki Beach, watching a young family as they played a game of Frisbee in the rocky sand.
“That could be us one day,” Ryan had said as he squeezed my hand. I had smiled at him, imagining the two of us, surrounded by kids, sharing our life together. Nothing would have made me happier. Ryan and I had talked about marriage—always something just out of our reach—something we both saw in our future but not until we were finished with law school and had started our careers. We were both so focused on our goals, the finish line finally visible after years of running the race.
But that day Ryan had surprised me. Our casual stroll had ended at Salty’s with a late seafood lunch on their waterfront deck. And on our walk back to the car along the same beachfront path, Ryan had stopped at our favorite spot so that we could enjoy the sunset that stretched across the uncharacteristically clear sky. The blue had faded to pink as the sun had dipped farther and farther toward the edge of the earth. Ryan had dropped to his knee and had presented me with this ring.
“Gemma, I can’t imagine a day without you in my life. Promise me forever?” he had asked.
Stunned and overcome with emotion, I had whispered, “Yes,” just as the sun had melted into the ocean, welcoming the night. And in that moment, Ryan had erased my past, filling my future with love and happiness and hope. I remembered feeling amazed at how much I loved him, my heart so full of joy that I thought it might burst. Forever. Forever turned out to be not quite long enough. I had left him, literally walked out on him. And whether or not I was going back still remained a mystery. Legally I was married, but in my heart . . . I wasn’t sure.
I turned to Drew and gave him a simple reply. “Yes,” I said, matter-of-factly, hoping that he didn’t read too much into my delayed response.
“So why are you here?” he asked with unease.
“I told you. To fix up the cabin.”
“So where’s your husband?” he asked, almost accusatory.
“He’s at home in Seattle. He’s working.” Drew’s questions were leaving me flustered. I didn’t want to think about Ryan or my marriage or what had happened. The reality too painful, the truth too humiliating. I tried to deflect Drew’s questions with questions of my own, but he could see right through me.
“Okay, Gemma. I know that it’s none of my business, but spit
it out already. You’re obviously not telling me something.”
“You’re right, Andrew. It is none of your business. And you aren’t exactly being forthcoming about your life.” I stood to go. It was late, or early, whichever way I wanted to look at it, and I was done talking. “Good night, Andrew.” As I turned to go, he raised his hand in the air to wave good-bye as if saying “whatever” but never said anything or turned in my direction. This pissed me off even more. I walked back to my cabin with my arms folded across my chest, feeling like an irrational teenager—angry but for no apparent reason. Damn that Andrew Monroe.
Ten
I sat on the porch swing with my eyes closed, enjoying the warmth on my skin from the late-morning sun. I was exhausted from a nearly sleepless night, getting a late start on the day.
“Peace offering?”
I jumped at the sound of his voice and opened my eyes to find Andrew standing at the bottom of the porch holding up a picnic basket.
“Jesus, Drew. You scared the living shit out of me,” I said with my hand over my pounding heart.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He laughed. “I felt bad about pushing you last night, and I wanted to apologize. May I sit down?”
“Be my guest.” I motioned toward the porch swing, scooting over to make room for him.
“Coffee?” he asked as he set down the basket and began rifling through it.
“Yes, please.” He handed me a coffee mug and filled it to the brim with steaming hot coffee from a stainless steel thermos.
“Cream? Sugar?”
“No, just black. Thanks.”
“Good, because I don’t have any,” he said with relief. He handed me a red-and-white-checkered cloth napkin and then a warm huckleberry scone. My favorite.
“Oh, my God, where did you get this?” I asked.
“LuLu’s bakery. I remembered that these were your favorite. Do you forgive me?” He cocked his head to the side, his smile igniting something inside me.
Gravity: A Novel Page 4