by Sierra Hill
Giving Ainsley the space she needs has been hard. My instinct was to smother her with love and shower her with constant affection, but she isn’t that type of girl. She needs to know she can do this on her own, and I applaud her for her courage. So I took a step back and have been waiting for her to reach out to me. The problem is, I’m not very patient. It’s nearly a week and I’ve heard nothing from her, leaving me no other option but to stalk her at work.
She’s normally on shift at Bristol’s Café on Friday mornings. The team had an early workout and practice this morning – Coach being mindful that his players want to enjoy their Friday evenings, so he schedules us bright and early. I’m freshly showered, making my way past the Wells Fargo Arena, and the Nadine and Ed Carson Student Athlete Center, turning on Mill Avenue and walking toward Sixth Street.
As I near the front of the café, with its large paned window overlooking the street, a man sitting on the edge of the sidewalk breaks the quiet around me, posing a question out of nowhere.
“Do you know that the Sun is one of two-hundred billion stars in the Milky Way galaxy?”
I’m startled by the odd interruption and stop in front of the guy and his dog. He’s an older gentleman, probably in his late fifties, but could be younger. The sun’s exposure has taken a toll on his appearance. His greasy hair is slicked back from his face, hidden underneath a tattered baseball cap that’s definitely seen better times. The mangy looking dog lays unimpressed next to his owner, head down between his dirty paws. Even the dog looks miserable. Poor pup.
Engaging in conversation with a vagrant is not something I’m generally comfortable with. Not that I’m worried for my safety, because I could definitely take him in a fight if I had to, but because I don’t have a lot of experience with it. Many homeless are less than stable and suffer from chronic and untreated mental illnesses. I learned that from Psych 101. The thought reminds me of what Ainsley shared about her mother and I’m sad wondering if she will end up like this man.
Deciding that I can spare a few minutes, I crouch down on bended knees and give the guy my full attention.
“Nah, man. I didn’t know that.”
He seems a bit surprised himself that I’ve joined in on the conversation. Maybe I was wrong and he really wasn’t speaking to me, but to himself. Oh well, no backing down now.
The man adjusts his scrawny frame so he’s now sitting fully erect, instead of slouched over like he was, and he looks me squarely in the eye.
“I know who you are.” He points an accusatory finger at me. “You’re him.”
Um, not sure what to say to that. So I decide to just go with it.
“Yep, I am.”
“You’re the one lurking around my sweetness. And I don’t like it.”
Okay, now I’m confused. This guy’s definitely off his rocker.
“Your sweetness? I’m not sure what you mean.”
His hand trembles as he points toward the direction of the café.
The sound he emits is a cross between reverence and sorrow. “My sweetness. The sweetest girl in the world.”
My head automatically follows the line of his finger and I look over my shoulder to find Ainsley standing at a table inside facing the window. Her eyes are cast down and then she lifts her head, our eyes meeting for the first time in a week.
The sight of her and her beauty has me off balance, my body swaying a bit in my crouched position. Catching myself, I smile, because I’m so happy to see her. But the light in her smile doesn’t seem to be there. Her face is shrouded in an emotion I’m not comfortable dissecting.
Now I know the man is talking about Ainsley. And my guard goes up, my body stiffening just like it does when I go up to block a shot. My job is to protect the basket. In this case, it’s to protect the girl I love.
“You know Ainsley?”
The dark spheres of his eyes lock with mine and he tilts his chin up defiantly.
“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” He says with dramatic flair and a crazy-ass stare. I wrinkle my face in confusion and start to stand up again because I have no idea what he’s just said. He takes pity on me.
“Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice. A classic.”
Like that explains anything. This guy is really out there. One moment he’s talking astronomy and the next, romantic classics. I’ve had just about enough and I’m about to turn away when I hear her angelic voice.
“Everything all right out here, gentlemen?” I glance at Ainsley and then back to the guy and back to Ainsley again. “Crockett, I brought you a muffin for breakfast. From yesterday’s blueberry batch, your favorite.” She hands a wrapped muffin to the guy (what kind of a name is Crockett?) and I notice the dog’s ears perks up, too.
Crockett grabs it from her hand and grumbles a low “Thank you.”
“Cade, what are you doing here?” It’s not an accusation, but is said in a manner that makes me wonder if she doesn’t want to see me.
“I was done with practice and thought I’d swing by. I haven’t seen you for a few days. I miss you.” I go in to give her a hug and she pulls back to avoid the contact. Her eyes dart from side to side, as if she’s concerned by who is watching us.
With a tug on my T-shirt, she implores me to follow her. “Let’s go around back to talk, okay?”
By this point, I sense there’s something going on and I’ve missed the boat. The feeling is like standing in the ocean, knee deep in water, watching the incoming wave from a distance, just waiting for its impact, realizing that in any moment I’m going to be flattened.
Fuck, I’m screwed. This is it.
I’ve never been in a serious relationship before, but I know about breakups. I’ve heard enough horror stories from my buddies to know that it hurts worse than a kick in the nuts. So I dig in and prepare. Put up my defenses. I will not allow this to happen. I’m not going down easy. I’ll foul out before I let her take a shot.
“What’s going on, Ains?”
Ainsley stands stiff against the brick of the building, which has to be emitting an intense level of heat right now. She crosses her arms -to shield herself, somehow? – and takes a big breath.
“Cade -”
“No.” I say. The sound echoes and reverberates off the brick and her head snaps up like she’s been slapped.
“No? No, what?”
“No to whatever you’re going to say.”
I move in, crowding her space until I’m inches from her and my hands land on the structure behind her. It’s a dominant move to cage her in. Maybe I want her to feel intimidated, I don’t know. All I know for certain is that I will not accept whatever she’s going to say to me.
Ainsley’s places her hand in the center of my chest – maybe to push me away – but I capture it with one of my own. I take in the shape of her beautiful mouth. Her perfect, pink lips tremble.
“I can’t be with you anymore, Cade. It’s not fair to either of us. I have too much going on to make this work. I don’t have the time. You need something more than I can give you.”
I’m angry. “That’s bullshit, Ains. When have I ever asked you for anything more? I love you. You’re everything I need. Everything I want. Don’t you understand that?”
Ainsley forcefully pulls her hand from mine and elbows her way out of my grip. I let her have her space. For now.
“You don’t get it, Cade. We are too different. Look at my life right now! It’s a mess. And you’re…you,” she says with a wave of her hand. “You’re the Golden Boy with endless possibilities. Do you know how it feels when people look at me when we’re together? It’s all there in their condescending glares. I’m not good enough for you. You’re their star – their idol – and I’m a speck of dirt – a girl from the other side of the tracks. I can’t have the weight of my life dragging you down your last year of school.”
I’m stunned. Momentarily speechless. I’ve never c
onsidered in any way, shape, or form that she was less than me. Or even had an inkling that she could possibly degrade herself like that. She’s always exuded confidence and pride. She let things roll off her shoulder. But now she throws this at me like it makes any difference to who we are together. My love is bigger than her oppositions. It shouldn’t matter what other people think.
The silence between us grows bigger. Heavier. From the door in the alleyway I can hear the sounds from the kitchen. Pots and pans banging. The low hum of a dishwasher. The voices of the line-cooks and kitchen staff. The loud thump, thump, thump of my breaking heart.
“Ainsley…none of that matters. Nobody else matters. Only you. I love you. And you’re not weighing me down…you’re lifting me up. With you, I can do anything. You’re the air I breathe.”
I can’t read the expression on her face. And that worries me. She sucks in her bottom lip, worrying it with her teeth.
And then the world drops out on me.
“Cade, we’re over. This won’t work. I’m sorry, but I don’t love you.”
27
Ainsley
I’ve never lied in my life.
But I knew the only thing that I could say that would possibly make a stubborn, six-foot-five wall of man let me go was to tell him that I didn’t love him.
Which is a bold-faced lie.
Of course I love him. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t go to this great length to protect him from my crazy, chaotic life. I don’t want, or need, a white knight to feel like he has to fix me or support me out of some misplaced sense of duty. Even if he truly does love me, I don’t want him to ever feel like I’m holding him back from enjoying his life.
Cade is a rising star. Regardless of whether he declares his interest in the NBA draft or not, he has so many great opportunities on the horizon. His future is within reach. He’s a smart guy who will graduate with honors in May, and between now and then, he deserves to enjoy the limelight and all the fun that comes along with being a college athlete.
There is simply no other way around this.
“You’re a horrible liar, Ainsley. Don’t act like the martyr here.”
I almost smile because he’s right about that. I bite my lip harder to keep from agreeing with him. Instead, I tilt my head up and glare at him with defiance.
“You’re a great guy, Cade. I’ll admit, I enjoyed my time with you. But I just can’t do it anymore. And come on, it’s not like you won’t find someone else to replace me within five minutes flat. Just like last time.” I snap my finger to emphasize the point.
That little truth hurts more than I want to admit. The girls swarm even when I’m standing right next to him. Once word gets out he’s single again – all those hoops hunnies will be crawling over him like ants at a picnic.
His face contorts in anger and his voice rises in frustration. “Goddammit, Ainsley. How many times do I have to say this? What do I have to do to prove it to you that I’ve never been unfaithful since the moment we got together? I wouldn’t do that. I don’t want any of those hoop ho’s. It’s you I love and you I want.”
Nail, meet coffin. I’m about to close the lid tight and bury this thing once and for all.
“It doesn’t matter. I just can’t live that way. It’ll eat me up inside. And you’ll come to regret me. To be perfectly honest…I still don’t trust what you say.”
There. He knows how much trust is an issue for me. And while it isn’t actually the way I feel, and I have forgiven him for what happened before between us, I can still use it as a weapon to defeat him. To win this war that should never have to be fought, but is the only way to end this once and for all.
Just as I thought, the words cut him deep and he hangs his head in defeat.
“I’m not going to argue with you, Ainsley. And I’m sure as fuck not going to beg. So if this is what you want…”
No, it’s not what I want. But it’s what you need.
“Yes,” I say instead.
“Fine. Have it your way.” He looks at me with sad, soulful eyes, more blue right now than I’ve ever seen them. “I still think you’re lying and I don’t understand why. But I’m sorry you feel that way.”
He leans in and kisses me on the cheek one last time as I watch him turn and go.
Cade doesn’t look back.
The minute Kimmi sees my face when I walk back through the kitchen, she immediately throws her arms around me. All my walls crumble. I ugly cry for over twenty minutes until the tears dry up long enough for me to grab my things and go home.
Two days later, I’m still wallowing in self-pity and heartbreak. I’ve been sprawled out on top of my bed quilt for the last hour, blubbering into my pillow. Trying to be quiet so no one will hear me. Unfortunately, Mica has the ears of a hawk. Or is that eyes? Either way, she’s extremely intuitive, making no buts about knocking on my door and inviting herself in.
“Lance asked me out,” she deadpans and then groans, taking a seat on my bed.
Rolling over to my side, I sloppily wipe away the snot running down my nose on the used Kleenex and push myself up onto my elbow.
“And this is a bad thing? I thought you liked Mr. Hotshot Basketball Player.”
With the exception of all the drama in my life recently, it’s been awesome having Mica with us. She’s turned out to be a great friend and confidant. I want her to be happy, and I know with a hundred percent confidence that she really likes Lance.
“Yeah, well, I turned him down.”
I spring up the rest of the way and grab her shoulders for affect.
“You what? Are you kidding me? That’s just plain cray-cray.”
“What’s the point? I’d be in the same, if not worse, situation as you and Cade.” She points out, as if I understand how we are so similar in that respect. But I don’t have a clue what she’s talking about.
“That makes no sense. Our situations are completely different. And you’ve been crushing on him for months! Why won’t you even give it a try?”
Mica turns to face me, wrapping her legs cross-styled and leans forward, chin in her hand.
“Well, let’s see. First there is the height challenge. We’d look ridiculous together.”
“That’s easy…wear heels! Plus, look at all the celebrity couples that handle that problem without complaint. What’s-her-face from the Nashville TV show and her super, duper tall boxer fiancé. And oh, country singer Jesse James Decker and her hottie hubs Eric. Oh, and Stephan Curry and his wife. See? Problem solved.” I’m feeling pretty proud of myself for coming up with all these names off the top of my head to prove my point.
Mica takes a moment to consider this, rubbing her chin and nodding.
“Fine, but then there’s my family obligations. And the fact that my dad and brothers would shit bricks if they find out I’m dating a gringo, who is not Catholic, by the way. They’d never let that happen.”
“You’re not living under his roof anymore and you are a full-grown woman. You should be able to date whomever you want.”
Mica scoffs, like I’m an idiot.
“I wouldn’t want to put that kind of burden on Lance. It’s not fair to him to suffer the wrath or consequences of mi familia. He seems like a good, fun-loving guy, and he doesn’t need that serious weight on his shoulders.”
I gently shove at Mica’s shoulders so she falls backward on the bed before bouncing back up again.
“Oh my God! You’re not honestly going to let that stop you, are you? He can totally handle any and all that comes with dating you if he likes you enough. Don’t sell yourself short just because you think you know what’s best for him.”
Mica’s raised eyebrows, tilted head, and wrinkled forehead indicates she’s just proved a point she was trying to make. Oh shit. That point wasn’t about her and Lance. It was about my stupid problem with Cade.
A sly smile curves across her face telling me she knows she’s got me by the balls on this one. Face palm.
“You’re a bitch and I don�
�t like you anymore.” I say in jest.
“No, you love me. Just admit it. And for that matter, why don’t you just admit that you made a mistake by telling Cade to vamoose.”
“I will do no such thing.”
“Chica.” She gently pries my fingers loose from my ankles, which I’ve been holding on to tight enough to leave a mark. She clasps my hands in hers. If someone walked in, they’d think we were having a séance.
“You’ve been crying over him for days. Which proves to me that you still love him. So why aren’t you with him?”
Mica knows all about the break-up discussion the other day and the reasons I told him to leave. She is my rock and sounding board this weekend, listening without interruption as I wailed and squeaked over the painful reasons I had to let him go. Yet, she goes and shoves those very same reasons in my face, but this time replacing me and Cade with her and Lance, and I fail to see the problem. The obstacles I listed can all be overcome if I want to. Love conquers all, isn’t that what they say?
I sniff back my tears. “Because, it’s the right thing to do.”
“From the looks of it, it’s not the right thing for you. And when I saw Cade today…”
My eyebrows shoot up in question. “You saw Cade? Where?”
She has the decency to blush. “Lance invited me over this morning and made me breakfast. Or tried to, at least. He’s a horrible cook.”
We both laugh and she continues. “Cade loves you so much, Ainsley. And I think it’s really unfair that you’ve made this unilateral decision because you think it’s in his best interest. He’s a grown man. He can make up his own mind. And you can’t control destiny.”
Destiny.
That one word has my tummy fluttering thinking back on how we connected. Not once. Not twice. But three times we ran into each other by happenstance. Two impossibly opposite individuals with completely different upbringings and circumstances. Yet, we meshed. It’s like what Cade said TV sports announcers call a perfect shot. “Nothing but net, baby.”