Returned to the Light

by C. M. Radcliff

  “How?” I ask him in disbelief. “How did you find him?”

  “Like I said, it wasn’t easy. But I have a lot of people who owe me. And I can be quite persuasive.” A sinister smile forms on his face. He’s nothing like his brother, Jared, but he can be one twisted motherfucker. In an instant, his smile fades and his face grows cold. A deadly look takes over his already black eyes. “He has her with him.”

  “Rowena?” I ask him. Jared dumped Lydia, and then Rowena had disappeared. Griffin went into a rage, looking for his white haired girl with crystal blue eyes. He searched high and low, only to come up empty handed.

  He nods. “She never left. She was with him the entire time,” his growls.

  “There’s no way she would have been with him by choice. Hell, her involvement in any of our lives was never her choice,” I remind him. His eyes shoot daggers into me, and he looks like he wants nothing more than to rip out my throat.

  “You think I don’t fucking know that?” He slams his fist down onto the counter. “Goddamn it!” He runs his fingers through his hair, grabbing two handfuls and pulling. “It’s time to finally end this shit,” he declares, his voice low and cold.

  I nod. “Where and when?”

  “I’ll let you know when I get all of the information. Then we’ll come up with a plan and figure it out. But we need to move quick. I gotta get her out of there.” His voice is urgent and desperate. I know the way he is feeling all too well. It’s like it’s happening all over again.

  “If you’re helping me with this, you need to get your shit together, man.” The look of disgust takes over his face again. “Eat some food, lay off the damn sauce, and get back in shape.” He pauses. “Seriously, he could kill us if we’re not on our A-game. Especially with him in hiding, he’s going to be even more unpredictable.”

  Fuck.

  “Right, I’ll get it together,” I nod to him. I have to get it together. It’s time that Jared pays for what he did to Lydia.

  “I’ll call you when I know more,” Griffin says, abruptly walking back to the front door. He opens the door and pauses in the doorway. “She wants to talk to you. Don’t be a fucking dick.” With that, he leaves, slamming the door behind him.

  chapter five

  LYDIA

  I PACE BACK AND FORTH across the wooden floor of the balcony. I already laid Trent down to sleep, so I’ve taken myself outside for fresh air. This has become my routine over the past three nights. I come outside with a glass of wine, my cell phone, and my bare feet. The first night of pacing earned me a splinter in my foot.

  I stop at the table, picking up my phone and staring at it. I turn on the screen to my contacts and find his name. My finger hovers over the call button. Just as I’m about to press it, I close the screen and slam my phone back on the table. I grab my glass of wine and drain it when I notice Griffin standing in his doorway.

  “Lydia,” he starts walking out onto the balcony, “you have to do it sometime.”

  I slump down onto one of the chairs in defeat. He pulls out the one across from me and sits down. “I want to, but I just can’t bring myself to do it.”

  “So you’d rather pace around here until your feet are full of splinters and covered in blisters?” he mocks. “Come on, you can’t keep doing this.” He reaches across the table, going straight for my phone. He moves quicker than me, snatching it right before I can grab it. I hear him unlock the screen and watch the reflection in his eyes as he finds my contacts.

  “Please, Griffin,” I plead. “I can’t do it. What if he doesn’t want to talk?”

  He looks up at me but says nothing. My stomach flutters when his finger hovers over the call button, and he presses it. He quickly stands up, handing me the phone.

  “Just fucking do it,” he mutters and walks back inside. I hold the phone, staring at it while it rings. What the fuck do I do? I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. I should end the call. I know I should, but I don’t.

  “Hello?” I’m frozen in place. My heart rate speeds up from the sound of his voice. I haven’t heard that sound in over two years, and already, I can feel a crack in my walls. The butterflies in my stomach stir.

  “Hello?” he says again, this time he sounding agitated. I shake off my fears, buck up, and pick up the phone. My hand shakes as I raise the phone to my ear.

  “Hi,” my voice is low and quiet. I hear the sharp intake of his breath and then silence. I can hear his unsteady breathing, but he remains silent.

  “Lydia?” his voice cracks, and I feel another crack in my walls.

  “Yes,” I answer. “How are you?” My voice is soft.

  “How am I?” he barks out a harsh laugh. “Isn’t that the million dollar question of the century.”

  I’m not sure how to respond to him. Do I keep up with trying to make small talk or do I get straight to the point? Fuck it. I’m already going out on a limb here by trying to have any contact with him. Might as well cut to the chase.

  “Can I see you?” I ask him. “Please. We need to talk.”

  He’s silent for a minute.

  “There’s nothing for us to talk about.” His voice is flat. Dead.

  “Please, Ryder,” I plead. “Just five minutes. That’s all I need. I just need to talk to you.”

  “So talk,” his voice remains flat.

  “Not on the phone,” I come back. “I’ll be here for the next two weeks. Can we get together? Maybe get coffee or something?”

  I hear his doorbell ring in the background. “Hold on,” he says in a clipped tone.

  I hear rustling around and a voice in the background. A woman’s voice. “Yeah sure,” he says gruffly. “I’ll be right up.” I hear him bring the phone back up to his ear and he clears his throat. “What were you saying?”

  I can’t speak. What did I expect? That he wouldn’t move on? I’d been gone for two years, for Christ’s sake.

  Stick to the focus here, Lydia. Talking to him and leaving.

  “I asked if we could get coffee or something so we can talk.”

  “Yeah, sure.” He pauses. “I gotta go. I’ll call you.”

  “Uh,” my voice croaks, “okay, sounds good.”

  “Bye, Lydia,” he says, his voice low. The phone beeps in my ear. He hung up. I set my phone back on the table and stare at it in disbelief. I did it; I actually called him. And it went completely differently than I had expected. I never expected him to agree or to even be cordial with me. Yeah, it was slightly awkward, and he sounded slightly irritated. But still, he agreed. I just wonder how his girlfriend will feel about it.

  I walk over to Griffin’s door and find it slightly ajar.

  “You asshole!” I yell at him, standing on the other side of his door.

  “Oops!” He turns his hands over, showing his palms.

  “You heard our conversation?” I ask him.

  “I heard your end. From what I heard, it sounds like it went well,” he says, smiling. “See, you were afraid for nothing.”

  No, I was afraid for all of the right reasons.

  “When are you going to see him?” he asks, leaning against the door frame.

  “I don’t know,” I admit. “We didn’t set a day or a time. He at least agreed to it. But then his girlfriend showed up so he had to go.” I try to say it without letting on that it affects me. But I can feel my body go rigid with the word ‘girlfriend’.

  Griffin gives me a weird look and shakes his head. “Ryder doesn’t have a girlfriend,” he counters. “He doesn’t do relationships. Well, not after you two.” He winces. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” I sigh. “I know what I did to him.” I’m slightly relieved when Griffin says that Ryder doesn’t have a girlfriend. But there was some girl that was over. And I feel a twinge of jealousy course through me. I shouldn’t feel that way. He’s not mine anymore.

  “Oh, Lydia,” now Griffin sighs, “I don’t think you fully know what you did to him. “He gives me a sad smile. “He was destroyed.”

&n
bsp; “But you told me he was okay and doing fine.”

  “I lied to you,” he admits. “I had to. You needed to heal, and if you heard what a complete shit show he became, you would have come running back at the first chance you had. He let himself become the way he is now.”

  “What do you mean?” my voice grows angry. He’s been keeping shit from me now too? “What happened to him?”

  “Lydia, he’s drowning himself in liquor, almost every single day. He’s not the same anymore. So this is what happens.” He pauses. “You meet with him, confess, and then you pack your shit and get the hell out of dodge.”

  He’s right. I can’t stay here.

  “He won’t hurt me,” I promise him, backing away from the door. “I’ll be okay. I plan on just talking to him and that will be it. I love him, Griffin. I always will. But you’re right, neither of us are the same anymore.”

  “When you see him, Lydia, just remember that, okay?” he reminds me.

  I nod.

  I can do it.

  I walked away from him once before.

  How much harder could it be to do it a second time?

  chapter six

  RYDER

  FUCK ME.

  I knew this was going to happen.

  I just didn’t expect it to happen this soon.

  I set my phone down on the granite counter in front of me and hang my head in defeat. I just agreed to meet with her. The ghost who haunts me. What she needs to talk about, I don’t know. Do I even care? I’d be a fucking liar if I said I didn’t.

  I turn away from the island and pull the freezer door open. Reaching in, I pull out my last bottle of vodka. I break the seal, twisting open the cap, and bring the cold rim of the bottle to my mouth. I gulp some down, the cold liquid burning my throat and giving me brain freeze. I slam the bottle down and grab my head between my hands, out of frustration and pain. But the pain isn’t just in my head; it’s rooted deep inside.

  “You comin’ up here?” I hear Jess’ voice calling from the top of the stairs. I forgot she was even here.

  I pull my hands from my head and walk into the hallway. She’s standing at the top of the stairs with nothing on but a white sheet wrapped around her. The sheet is thin enough, showing her curves and her plump breasts. My dick doesn’t twitch; it’s limp in my pants. She does nothing for me, and I’m a fucking asshole.

  “You should probably go,” I tell her, not meeting her eyes.

  “Wait, why?” I can hear the disappointment in her voice. I finally look up, seeing the rejection in her eyes.

  “Tonight isn’t a good night for me,” my voice cracks like a goddamn pussy. I fake a cough, making an attempt to cover it up.

  “Seriously?” she narrows her eyes. Her voice irritates me, and I want nothing more than for her to leave. She spins on her heel, leaving her spot at the stairs. I walk back into the kitchen and down some more vodka. I’m going to need it to sleep tonight. I hear her heels clicking down the wooden stairs and down the hall to the kitchen, coming to a stop in the doorway.

  “You really are an asshole, you know?” she spits out, visibly pissed off, “I don’t know why I bother wasting my time.”

  “You’re right,” I admit. She doesn’t deserve any of this. Here I’ve been, using her, thinking the feeling was mutual.

  “What’s wrong with me? Why don’t you want me?” Her voice is urgent, laced with hurt from rejection.

  “Nothing is wrong with you, Jess. It’s me, not you.”

  She barks out a laugh. “That’s the best you could come up with? It’s because of her. She’s fucking gone, Ryder! Can’t you see that? She’s gone, and I’ve been here, picking up all the fucking pieces!” she raises her voice at me.

  “Look, Jess. I can’t do this anymore, okay? I told you, it’s me.” I try to be nice, but can barely keep the irritation from my voice. She needs to leave. Now.

  She walks into the kitchen, marching up to me. She pokes my chest with a sharp fingernail and gets in my face. “You were supposed to get over her. I’ve wasted so much time waiting for you to come around. And you’re still fucking caught up on some dumb bitch. She’s not coming back for you, Ryder. Don’t you think she would have by now?” And then she closes her eyes, bringing her lips towards me.

  “No,” I bark, moving away from her. “You need to go. Now.” My voice is low and laced with anger. “You will never be her. Now get. The. Fuck. Out.” She raises up her hand, slapping me across the cheek. My face heats up, a stinging sensation left in place of her hand. I bring my hand up, pressing it against the redness.

  “You’re a piece of shit!” Her voice is harsh, but it doesn’t affect me. It doesn’t hurt like she wants it to. I know what she says is the truth.

  In a huff, she turns her back to me and stomps out of the room and out the front door, slamming it behind her. It echoes throughout the now silent house. I walk around to the other side of the island, dragging the bottle of vodka with me. I sit down at the counter and stare at the liquor. It’s become my salvation. The only thing to silence the voices in my head. But Griffin was right. Look at what I’ve become. I’ve become a shell of a person; a robot running on liquor as fuel. And I’m on a steady path to self-destruction. I thought I wanted it, but suddenly, I realize I don’t.

  What I want…is her.

  And she’s back.

  Now, I need to figure out how to keep her here.

  I GO BACK TO WORK the next day. I throw myself into my work, remodeling a client’s kitchen. Before I know it, it’s almost the end of the week. I’ve worked myself to the bone, working long hours to complete the project. Everyday has been the same. I go home, eat some bullshit frozen meal, and then force myself to go to bed. But sleep never comes. I lay there, listening to the whispering voices in my head. I got rid of all the alcohol in the house, the only thing that silences them. It’s all part of my plan to get her back. And the first step was getting my own shit together.

  It’s been three days since she called. Three days since I kicked Jess out. And three days since I last had a drink. I’m not an alcoholic, but it was quite the accomplishment.

  I lie in bed, staring at the white ceiling above me. I’ve tossed and turned from side to side and ended up on my back. I glance over at the clock. It’s only ten o’clock. How the hell is it not any later? It feels like I’ve been lying here for an eternity.

  I grab my phone from the nightstand beside me, unlocking the screen. I scroll through my call log until I reach her number. I couldn’t bring myself to add her to my contacts. But damn if I didn’t already have that number burned into my mind. Her number stares back at me, tempting me like it does every night since she called me. I open up a new message with her number as the receiver. I go through this every night. Unable to bring myself to call her, I go to send her a message. But I can never press send.

  I type out ‘hey’, just like I do every night. I quickly hit the back button, erasing the message. I type it out again. My finger hovers over the send button. The voices in my head tell me to do it. Just press it.

  And finally, I do.

  But instantly, I want to take it back.

  I stare at the screen, in disbelief of what I just did. I watch as a bubble with three dots pops up at the bottom of the screen.

  Lydia- Hey.

  Now what do I do? I didn’t think this far ahead.

  How are you?

  Smooth, Ryder. Great response.

  Lydia- I’m good. How are you?

  Great, now that I’m talking to you. I don’t type that out, though. I’m doing far from great. But I’m making a come up in life.

  I’m doing alright.

  I don’t hesitate and cut right to the chase.

  Is the offer still on the table to meet for coffee?

  I stare at my phone, waiting for the three dots to appear. I hold my breath for a moment, exhaling a big puff of air when they do appear.

  Lydia- Yes it is. When are you available?

  ‘Right
now’ is what I want to say to her. I have such an overwhelming urge to see her. It’s like I’ve forgotten about the pain she’s caused me in a matter of hours. And I don’t like how easily I feel this way. I should hate her. I should be so pissed off at her. But I can’t help feeling some ounce of happiness just from having contact with her.

  She could very well hurt me again.

  But that’s a chance I’m willing to take.

  Want to meet Saturday afternoon?

  We can meet at the Java House.

  I can wait until Saturday. I have to wait until Saturday. I need to get it together before I see her.

  Holy shit.

  I’m going to see her.

  Lydia- I can do that. Does three o’clock work for you?

  I’ve waited so long for this day.

  We’ve lost so much time over the past two years.

  And now, I’m finally going to see her.

  And hear her.

  Fuck. I didn’t even think about what she’s going to have to say to me.

  My palms start to sweat. I hold my phone tightly in my hand.

  I look at the screen, seeing I never responded.

  Saturday works for me.

  Can’t I maybe say something that doesn’t make me look completely like an idiot or uninterested?

  My phone vibrates instantly.

  Lydia- Perfect. I’ll see you then.

  I look forward to seeing you.

  Goodnight, Lydia.

  Lydia- Goodnight.

  A simple ‘goodnight’ means more to me than anyone will ever know. Having it come from her means that much more. For the first time in the past two years, it doesn’t take long for sleep to find me. And for once, my dreams are just that. I don’t relive the day of her leaving. Instead, I dream of the day I’ll be seeing her again.