I refuse to believe I may lose her over this. I know I can make her forgive me if she’ll just talk to me. Thinking of the look in her eyes when I saw her in my kitchen is unbearable. I did that. I’m such a fucking asshole.
The truth is that I’ve been thinking about introducing Sara to Lily and Gage for a while. I’ve been putting it off out of fear. She means so much to me, and I was so damn scared that the thought of an insta-family would be overwhelming. I kept thinking I needed more time to make her fall in love with me. I thought if our connection was stronger, there’d be less of a chance Lily and Gage would scare the shit out of her. Don’t get me wrong, Lily and Gage are my world, but they can be a handful.
I don’t know why I attacked Sara the way I did. Did it bother me that she never opened up to me and explained what happened with that guy? Absolutely. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t irk me. It bothered me because I wanted to know she trusted me the way I trusted her. I told her about Grace almost immediately, and I don’t share that shit. It’s nobody’s damn business. But the words just flowed with Sara … they always do. I want her to know every part of me. In return, I want to know her. So yeah, it fucking hurt that she didn’t share. She erected this invisible wall between us, and I don’t like secrets.
But truth be told, I don’t care about what actually happened with that guy. I wouldn’t even care if she left the fucker at the altar. None of that matters because I know her, and I know us. And the shit that happened before has nothing to do with what we are now. Except that it does … because she thinks I’m holding it against her. And that’s on me.
Maybe things went down the way they did because I felt like I’d been handled. I take serious exception to being handled. Celia has been campaigning for me to bring Sara into the fold for a while now, and I feel like she forced my hand. My temper flared, and I said hurtful things to shine a light on Celia’s bad decision. And Celia did make a bad decision. It just so happened the bad decision was letting someone watch my kids without my consent. Instead of calmly telling Celia this, my hotheaded temper tried to cut Celia and make it look as if she left my kids with a bad person. Again, total dickhead move. Sometimes my temper jumps in before my head has a chance to assess the situation.
To say the situation spiraled out of control is a huge understatement. I wanted the kids to see how wonderful Sara is without feeling threatened by her presence in my life. I wanted Sara to meet my children without feeling any obligation or pressure.
Lucky for me, Celia feels bad about the way things went down, so she’s willing to watch the kids for me this morning. Who am I kidding? Celia is always more than willing to help, regardless of the circumstance. Needless to say, Sara wasn’t the only person who I apologized to this week. Celia’s well aware of my propensity to jump to conclusions and lose my temper, so she let me off with a terse warning. I don’t know what I’d do without that girl.
I know Sara’s running the Saturday class at the clinic today, and I want to see her—no, I need to see her. I need her to know what I know. I’m gonna get my girl back if it kills me.
I show up at the clinic about twenty minutes before the class finishes and set up shop at the desk closest to the classroom. No way I’m letting Sara sneak past me. If she wants me to get lost, she’ll have to say the words. No hiding behind Marlo this time.
Unfortunately, Caroline has other plans for me this morning. She’s standing in the doorway of her office, her serious expression in direct contrast with her hippie attire and quirky glasses. She’s wearing a disappointed frown, and it’s directed right at me.
“Adam, a word please,” she quietly requests with a jerk of her head before disappearing into her office.
I stop at the door while I keep shooting glances toward the classroom. “Can we do this later, Caroline? I’m waiting to talk to Sara, and I don’t want to miss her.”
“Oh, I know exactly what you’re doing, Adam. I, however, plan on stopping you from making a bad situation even worse. Now come in, close the door, and sit down.” Her tone leaves no room for arguing, and I’m slightly shocked. Easy going Caroline must be on vacation today.
“Caroline, I’ve tried everything to fix things with Sara. She won’t talk to me, and I’ve got to make her see how sorry I am. God, the things I said to her. She must hate me right now. If she’d just talk to me—” Caroline interrupts me by lifting her hand in the air, letting me know she’s heard enough.
“Stop right there. Now don’t be mad at Celia, but she’s filled me in on the goings-on of the last week, and I’ve kept silent long enough. I’ve tried to stay out of it and let you two work it out, but you just can’t seem to get your head out of your ass.”
“Excuse me?”
“Did I stutter? Has the caveman routine you’ve been doing all week made any difference at all? Of course it hasn’t.” Caroline leans back in her chair and crosses her arms over her chest.
“I don’t know what else to do. Am I supposed to just disappear and let her move on without me?” I ask as I lean forward, feeling frustrated. “That’s not an option. I can’t just let her go.”
Caroline stands up and walks around her desk to sit in the chair beside me. She takes my hand and gives me a sympathetic smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Darlin’, you have to.”
I rip my hand away from her and push off out of my seat. I stand over her with an accusing glare. “So that’s your sage advice? Give up? Let her go? Thanks a lot, Caroline.”
“No. I don’t think you should give up. But you do have to let her go, Adam. I need you to trust me on this, okay?”
“Trust you? What do you know that I don’t? You’re going to have to give me a little more to go on if you expect me to just walk away.”
Normally, I trust Caroline completely. But how can I walk away from Sara? That idea sounds like a sure-fire way to lose her. After the things I said, I can’t afford to fuck things up further. I need to remind her how good we are together. I need her to see how sorry I am. I just need her. No way am I going to give her time to get over me.
“Adam, I’m trying my best to help you without breaking promises I’ve made. Did you hurt her? Absolutely. You’ve got to get a handle on that temper of yours, son. But there’s more going on than you realize. Sara’s reaction to what you said isn’t entirely about you.”
“What does that even mean? I think you might be confusing the issue here. She just needs to understand how I feel about her.” I run my hands through my hair in frustration.
“Have you ever wondered why Sara never explained to you what happened in her last relationship?” Caroline asks cryptically.
“Of course I have. Maybe she didn’t trust me enough. She’s obviously shared with you, and I’ve got to be honest, that irritates the hell out of me. I’ve been nothing but open with her. Why can’t she do the same?”
“Again, Adam, this is not about you. Listen, you could probably keep at her, and she’d eventually give in and forgive you. She loves you,” Caroline says with a shrug.
I sit back down and lean into Caroline with pleading eyes. “I love her, too. I mean, I haven’t told her yet, but I do.”
“I know you do. The problem is … Sara needs to love herself as much as she loves you. And right now? She doesn’t.”
“Okay, enough with the riddles. I just want my girl back, Caroline. You said if I keep at her, she’ll probably forgive me? Well, I’m gonna do that—”
“You need to give her time to forgive herself and believe she is worthy of being happy, Adam. Those things you said the other day? You played right into her insecurities. Give her a minute to breathe. Give her a minute to think and realize she’s worth fighting for. You know that, but she doesn’t. She’s so busy trying to avoid you that she probably hasn’t had a second to think about how she really feels. You give her time, Adam, and I know she’ll come back to you. And when she does, she’ll be whole. That’s what you both deserve.”
“How can she believe
she doesn’t deserved to be loved? God, Caroline, I don’t even care about what happened before with—”
“But she does. That’s what you have to remember,” Caroline explains.
I sigh heavily and rack my brain for the next right move. Could Caroline be right? Does she need time to believe in herself? To believe in us? As much as I abhor the idea of staying away, I can’t deny the fact that my tactics haven’t worked. She’s no closer to forgiving me than she was a week ago. As much as I hate to admit it, Caroline may be right. She obviously knows things I don’t.
“Okay, I’ll try to stay away. I’ll try to give her some time, but I’ve got to put a time limit on this shit … for my sanity. No chance I can stay away from her indefinitely. I’ll give her a week, and then all bets are off,” I say, hoping my compromise will appease Caroline.
“You’re doing the right thing. Now, you need to get out of here before class lets out. She doesn’t need to see you right now.”
It hurts like a motherfucker to hear that. She doesn’t need to see me. Seeing her is what I need more than anything at this point. But she’s right; if I’m going to take her advice, I need to get out of here. But I can’t be this close to Sara and not reach out to her. That’s just impossible.
“Okay, I’m going. But I need a pen and paper first.”
Caroline raises her eyebrows and shakes her head at me as she hands me the paper. “Well, I guess it’s better than staying to see her.”
I quickly jot down the note, fold the paper neatly, and write her name on the front. I give Caroline a quick hug and thank her for her guidance. I slip the note into Sara’s purse just as the classroom door is opening. I see a few students filing out as I rush to the door. If I get even a glimpse of her, I’ll lose my resolve. Starting today, she’s got a week to sort things out. I can’t give her a minute more than that. God, I hope Caroline knows what she’s talking about.
I KNOW HE’S here. I can feel him. When my students open the door and start leaving the classroom, the air instantly feels charged in a way that I only feel when he’s near. I’m not really surprised he would find me at the clinic. I’ve worked hard to be inaccessible all week, but I already committed to working this morning, and I didn’t want to leave Caroline in a lurch.
I’ve been dodging him all week, knowing that he could change my mind with the slightest contact. In my own personal hell, I’ve been listening to the ringing of my phone, the dinging of my texts, and his pleas to Marlo as I stay locked in the bathroom with tears streaming down my face. But every time I start to waver, I hear his cold voice.
Who does that? No one I can introduce to my children, that’s who.
Those words are like ice-cold water splashed in my face. I can’t tune them out, no matter how hard I try. Those words are all my worst fears about myself coming to life—I’m just not good enough. The sooner I come to terms with that fact, the better off I’ll be.
I square my shoulders, lift my chin, and try my best to exude calm I don’t actually feel. I peer out the door before stepping out, and I’m surprised to see Adam’s back as he strides out of the office. He doesn’t turn around and spare me even the slightest glance.
I should feel relieved. I should be glad to have avoided what would have undoubtedly been a tense conversation. I’ve spent all week working tirelessly to avoid Adam. But it still hurts like hell that he was here at the clinic and made no attempt whatsoever to see me.
“Sara, I’ll be here the rest of the morning, so you can leave if you’d like,” Caroline offers as she walks into the room.
“Thanks, Caroline. I think I’ll take you up on that offer. I didn’t sleep very well last night.”
“Well, go get some rest.” Caroline turns to walk away, hesitates, and moves slowly toward me. “Sara, you know I’m here for you if you ever want to talk. I’m very good at being an unbiased ear, and you know my lips are always sealed.”
“That’s a sweet offer, and I really appreciate it. I’m not up for talking right now, though. Sometimes things seem to come to life and hurt even more once you say them out loud. I’m not ready for it to be real yet.”
“I understand. Just give it some time, and talk to someone when you’re ready. It doesn’t have to be me, but you should talk to someone. I’ll give one more piece of old woman’s advice, and then I’ll leave you alone. You gave up your best friend so you, and Mason for that matter, could have a chance to find true love. That soul-stopping, heart-wrenching kind of love. Maybe you should think twice before casting it aside at the first bump in the road.”
Caroline squeezes my hand and walks away before I have chance to respond. If only things were so easy.
I grab my purse and head for the door. As I reach from my keys, I notice a folded piece of paper sticking out of the top of my purse. Upon closer inspection, I can’t mistake the handwriting scribbled across the front of the paper. My heart quickens with the realization, and I scan the parking lot looking for a familiar jeep as I rush to my car.
I sit behind the wheel of my car and lock the door. Do I want to read the note now? Or should I wait until I get home? Before I have the opportunity to change my mind, I unfold the note and start reading, tears threatening behind my eyes.
Sara,
I know I’m the last person you want to talk to right now. I know you think there’s nothing left to say between us, but you’re wrong.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I hope you give me the chance to show you how much you truly mean to me.
I miss you. God, Sara, I miss you so fucking much. Everything reminds me of you. But I’ll wait. However long it takes, Sara, I’m waiting.
As much as it kills me, I’m going to respect that you need space right now. But I’m here, babe. When you’re ready…
Adam
A tear escapes and trickles down my cheek. I want to believe that one day I’ll be ready for him—that I can forgive him and we can move forward. But the realist in me knows it’s impossible. His letter is beautiful, but I can’t just erase my memory.
Go ahead, Sara. Run. That is what you do best, right?
“Count On Me” by Bruno Mars
“UGH! THIS LOOKS like a kindergartener’s finger painting, Alex. I suck at this,” I whine, rather unattractively.
Alex’s gallery is closed on Mondays, so she invited me to stop in for a dose of creativity. While I love visiting with my friend, my work in progress leaves a lot to be desired. When it comes to art, I’m definitely no Alexandra Fontaine. I could give new meaning to the term ‘starving artist.’
“No, you don’t. It looks great. There’s no right or wrong here. Just let the paintbrush speak for you. Use it as an extension of yourself, and let your emotions flow,” Alex states calmly as she focuses on her own painting, which is probably going to be her next masterpiece. Mine, not so much.
“You sound like an afterschool special. ‘Feel the paint. Be the paint.’ I’m pretty sure that I’m better off as a patron of the arts, because this is a hot mess.”
“Look, I’ll give you an example of how emotions flow through art. The painting that’s hanging in your living room? I painted that right when I got to New York. What do you see when you look at it?”
I absolutely love that painting. It resembles a loose interpretation of a feminine figure. At the bottom, white cloudlike forms inch up the woman’s legs, but the clouds look too pristine, too precise in comparison to the woman. Her arms outstretch in a way that looks as if she is holding the clouds at bay. Maybe she’s rising up from the clouds, I’m not sure. The figure is far more fluid than the clouds, using blues and purples in swirl patterns.
“What do I see? I’m not really sure. It’s a woman, I’m sure of that. Is she holding the clouds down?” I question, feeling self-conscious about my answers. I don’t want to humiliate myself with my primitive art interpretation skills. I’m a little embarrassed I don’t know more about the painting I bought years ago. I may not know what the painting means, but I’m ce
rtain of how it makes me feel. “I’m not sure of what you were trying to say with the painting, but when I look at it, I feel free.”
A smile spreads across Alex’s face and slowly reaches her eyes. As I study her, I realize Alex’s smiles have been few and far between as of late. I keep waiting for her to tell me what’s been bothering her, but she stays silent when I push her about her mood.
“It’s actually a self-portrait. And I definitely felt free when I painted it.”
“A self-portrait, huh? Tell me about it,” I say as I put down the paintbrush and sit on a stool next to Alex’s workstation.
“Well, the clouds at the bottom symbolize growing up in my family. It was a time when perfection was the goal every day. I was rewarded for having perfect grades, being ‘friends’ with the ‘right people,’ looking the part of the perfect daughter. When I got to New York, I promised myself things would be different. Nothing in my life would be perfect. No more pleasantries for the sake of being polite. I wanted a life filled with fun, unbridled love, and most importantly, imperfection. I was ready to jump off the cliff, but it was absolutely terrifying to completely change my life. The very first night, I went up to the roof of the dorm with my art supplies. That painting is the result of the emotions barreling through me as I started a new chapter in my life.”
“Wow, now my painting really feels like a piece of crap!” I joke and shove Alex’s shoulder.
“Whatever! When I look at your painting, I see anger and confusion, but I also see longing. Am I close?” Alex asks as she points out certain aspects of my work.
“Unfortunately, that’s pretty accurate. Adam acts as if we can move past this, but I have to see it for what it really is. This is a dead end, and I have to accept that and move on. The things he said to me … I can’t get them out of my head. God, he really hurt me.”
Hope Over Fear (Over #1) Page 20