Discern (Discern Saga, Book #1)

by Samantha Shakespeare

  “I realize that, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Not when you planned your whole existence around this person. I know that wasn’t smart or healthy, but I had to direct my attention to something else besides my mother’s death.”

  His expression changed. “Did you really love him or was he merely a distraction?”

  His question stung. I was speechless. On one hand, I was angry that he spoke about my relationship so harshly, but on the other hand, I felt relieved. Had I really loved him? “I guess both.”

  “Real love can only happen when your heart is available. So, it couldn’t possibly be both.”

  I felt exposed. My whole relationship had been a cover for my pain, but no one else, including me, had ever noticed it that way. “A distraction,” I murmured.

  “Admitting your feelings can be difficult, but now you can examine the situation objectively rather than subjectively.”

  I slouched over, placing my elbow on my thigh and bracing my chin with my left hand. “I guess I should’ve dealt with the real issue, rather than creating another,” I pondered aloud.

  “I’m sorry to upset you, but I hate to see such a beautiful person in so much pain.” His hand slightly touched my back, creating another spark. My body stiffened. The warmth of his hand was comforting.

  I suddenly had a feeling of déjà vu. “That was weird,” I mumbled. This was utterly impossible as he and I had never sat in this bookstore together before.

  His hand immediately retracted. “What was weird?”

  His hearing was exceptional. I had barely breathed the words. “Just a ridiculous thought,” I said casually, hoping he wouldn’t continue to question.

  “Your thoughts aren’t ridiculous; it’s a part of who you are.”

  “Déjà vu is,” I challenged.

  “What felt like déjà vu?” he asked, crinkling his forehead.

  “Sitting here with you on this couch,” I said timidly. “It’s impossible as we’ve never shared a moment like this before.”

  “Maybe we once did,” he smiled.

  “How would that be possible?”

  He held up the book in his hands. “If reincarnation is true, maybe we did.”

  I pondered on that thought for a second. “I guess anything is possible,” I agreed, glad he was at least entertaining my crazy thoughts rather than judging.

  We sat inside the bookstore for hours. We had traveled down much different paths, but somehow ended up in the same place. His travels had given way to hard times, and I could sense his heart had been broken, although he never spoke of it directly. He had seen death claim those close to him. His insight was that of a much older, wiser individual. My pain paled in comparison.

  The sunlight faded and the windows darkened revealing how much time we had spent inside the bookstore. “Surely you have plans tonight?” I asked, hoping he did not.

  “No, not really,” he smiled.

  “So there really aren’t any women in town you’re interested in?” I asked bashfully.

  “I wouldn’t say that. But I don’t think the one I prefer is available right now.”

  “Boyfriend?”

  “Nope.”

  “Husband?” I asked, choking slightly. Adultery was high on my list of shameful acts.

  “No, not married,” he laughed lightly.

  “Then why isn’t she available?” I asked, incredulously naïve.

  “Broken heart, I believe.”

  “Well, I’m sure her heart will heal one day, and you can make your move then,” I smiled.

  “I’m not sure if I’m her type.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re every girl’s type,” I blushed, disbelieving I spoke those words aloud.

  A large, wide grin spread across his face. “Every girl?”

  “At least the sane ones.”

  “Are you sane?”

  “Some days,” I smiled. But the sparkle in his eyes was making me think differently about my sanity.

  We both laughed lightly. It was nice to share a moment without grief or worry, just having a conversation about life with no expectations. I was pretty sure he was speaking about me, but he didn’t come out and say it directly, which was a relief on one hand and a downer on the other. It was nice to have a guy sit next to me and not feel pressured.

  My phone buzzed loudly. My arm lightly brushed up against his as I dug through my purse—I felt the sparks once again. “Sorry,” I said, before looking down and reading the text message from my father.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yes, just my dad checking in on me,” I griped.

  “At least you know he loves you,” he smiled.

  “Yes, but he lies. He lies a lot.” I rolled my eyes.

  “About?”

  “His love life.”

  “Does he have one or do you wish for him to have one?”

  “I suspect he has one, but he won’t confess anything, which is very frustrating,” I sighed.

  “Which is more frustrating, the fact he has one or that he refuses to speak of it?”

  “Both,” I admitted reluctantly.

  “I’m positive he’s just worried that it’ll depress you further.”

  To hear an outsider speak of my obvious depression was excruciatingly embarrassing. Not that I ever tried to hide it from anyone, but I was at a different place in my life, especially at this very particular moment. My heart hadn’t fluttered like this in a long time.

  “Things are different now,” I said. “Two months ago his confession would’ve been devastating, but not now.”

  “I can see the difference in you from the time of the plane ride until now, but your father probably feels that any moment would be difficult when it concerns your mother’s possible replacement.” He cringed as he spoke the words. “I-I didn’t mean replacement,” he corrected nervously.

  “I understand what you meant. No one could replace her, but I can’t expect him to be alone until he dies.”

  “The time will come when he decides to share his feelings with you.”

  “I just wonder if that time will ever come or if he will continue to carry on the lie, never wanting to upset me.”

  “Don’t let that happen. Let him know you’re fine with his decision to move on.”

  “I guess I haven’t really reassured him, just accused him,” I said, realizing my mistake.

  It seemed impossible for such an unbelievably attractive man to be so insightful. And then choose to waste his Saturday night sitting here listening to one of his students drivel on about her pitiful problems.

  “It’s easier to be on the outside looking in than vice versa.”

  “What’s your family like?” I asked.

  “My parents are dreadful and my siblings are pure evil,” he chuckled lightly.

  “At least you have siblings,” I smiled.

  “I’d prefer to be an only child,” he smirked, but there was seriousness to his tone.

  “Are they that bad?”

  “We don’t talk much, unless we have to,” he said flatly.

  “I’m so sorry, it must be difficult,” I empathized as much as an only child could.

  “Not really anymore. I’ve had plenty of time to adjust,” he smiled differently. Like there was an inside joke I was missing.

  “Why are your parents dreadful?”

  “They are demanding and selfish.”

  “Do you see them much?”

  “Maybe once or twice a year as we have very different opinions about life decisions,” he explained with a slight hint of hostility.

  “You never know when you might lose one of them, so don’t waste the time you have now on holding grudges,” I suggested, adding a little of my own insight to the loss of a parent.

  “I’m not worried about time,” he smiled wryly, once again differently.

  “Am I missing an inside joke?” I asked perplexed.

  “Umm…no. What makes you think that?” he asked, caught off guard.

 
“Nothing,” I said, shaking my head.

  “No, really, why would you think I was making a joke?” he asked intrigued.

  “Your smile is different when you speak about your family. But this isn’t one of my sane days, so don’t worry, it’s just me,” I assured, embarrassed.

  “That’s disheartening,” he frowned.

  “Why?”

  “I was hoping this was one of your sane days, since you’re spending time with me.”

  “Oh, well maybe it is, but just some of my observations may not be,” I laughed nervously.

  “Good, I feel better already,” he grinned widely.

  “I’m not sure why,” I muttered.

  He shot a disapproving look, but I disregarded.

  “So why are you reading that book?” he asked.

  “Not by choice. It’s for Literature class.”

  “That’s a strange selection for that class.”

  “That’s what I thought,” I laughed lightly. “But it’s better than Shakespeare.”

  “Not a fan of Shakespeare?” he asked intrigued.

  “I can’t really get in to it,” I admitted, feeling slightly foolish.

  “Shakespeare’s not an easy read.”

  “Have you ever read this book?” I asked, waving the thin book in my hand.

  “No, I haven’t fancied many romance novels,” he grinned.

  “Most men don’t.”

  “Have you read it before?”

  “No, but I have watched the movie. I’m not a big fan of adultery, so I doubt I’ll really enjoy it.”

  “When’s your report due?”

  “Tuesday night,” I said, afraid of his disapproval as a professor.

  “At least it’s fairly short.” he smiled playfully.

  “I was ecstatic when I saw that.”

  “I bet,” he winked.

  The sound of loud giggling caught my attention. Two bleach blonde girls, around my age, were sitting on a couch across the room snickering to themselves. I squinted to see if I recognized them, but it was too far to make out their faces.

  “Do you know them?” he asked.

  “Not sure,” I shrugged.

  Andrew glared in their direction. “Be prepared,” he whispered.

  “For what?”

  “They’re coming this way,” he said, tilting his head in their direction.

  My eyes darted to the now empty couch. A flash of yellow caught the corner of my eye. I instinctively turned. “Oh, god,” I muttered.

  “Is it really her?” The first, shorter blonde giggled.

  “Oh, how could you mistake anyone else for her,” the other girl scoffed.

  I shook my head. “I guess it’s time to leave,” I said, flashing a mortified look at Andrew.

  My fingers gripped the book I needed to buy. I bent down to gather all of my things, but before I could, I saw their shoes appear.

  “Haley Helms, what in the world are you doing here?” the shorter girl, now easily identified as Kelly Bradshaw asked.

  “Just getting a book,” I replied flatly.

  “No, we mean back in Boulder,” the other girl, Stacey Jenkins asked.

  “Spending some time with my father,” I said, trying to be civil.

  “And who’s your friend?” Kelly asked snidely.

  “My name is Andrew,” he said smoothly, glaring them down.

  “I didn’t think it was Braden,” Stacey said.

  “No, it isn’t,” I snarled, now unable to contain the anger.

  “Speaking of Braden, where is he?” Kelly asked smugly.

  “Not sure.”

  “Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you’ve done much better,” Stacey giggled.

  “He isn’t my boyfriend.” I rolled my eyes.

  “That’s a shame,” Kelly replied.

  “Are you single?” Stacey eyes flashed in Andrew’s direction.

  “Not much longer, I hope.” He winked down at me.

  “Good luck with that,” Kelly burst out in laughter.

  “Where are your boyfriends?” I asked, diverting the attention from my situation.

  “We’re both single at the moment and loving it,” Stacey smiled spitefully.

  “I think you ladies should leave now,” Andrew insisted, irritated by their behavior.

  I gazed in their direction to see their reaction to such a beautiful man shunning them. But their faces looked horrified as they scurried along without another word. I shot a quick glance at Andrew, but his face had not changed.

  “That was unusual.”

  “Their behavior?” he asked.

  “No. Their faces seemed frightened.”

  “Maybe they realized how absurd they were acting,” he suggested.

  “Not those two, they’ve been nasty ever since I can remember.”

  I touched the screen on my phone trying to get a sense of the time that had passed. “Wow, it’s almost eleven,” I said shocked.

  “What time does this place close?”

  “Eleven o’clock,” I said disappointed, knowing our time together was coming to an end.

  “I guess we should be leaving.”

  “Yeah, I have some reading to do,” I smiled.

  “And a report,” he added.

  “That, too.”

  We walked side by side across the second floor to the escalator. Our hands slightly touched as they swayed, sending those same sparks through my body. The lady behind the register looked relieved that we were checking out as I noticed the place was entirely empty except for us.

  Andrew offered to pay for my book, but I wouldn’t even consider it. I wasn’t ready to owe anyone anything, even though, secretly, I really didn’t mind if he had some expectations. I had butterflies as he walked me out to my car.

  “Drive safely,” he smiled as he held my door open.

  “Always,” I smiled back.

  He started to shut the door, but caught it right before it closed. “Hey, I just wanted to tell you that I had a nice time talking with you tonight.”

  “I did, too,” I breathed. “A really nice time.”

  “Hopefully, I’ll see you around.”

  “Sounds good,” I smiled, trying to remain cool.

  There was nothing calm about what I was feeling inside. I felt like screaming with joy. He carefully closed the car door. I let out a large sigh as I laid my head back against the headrest. He was amazing—and I was a wreck.

  He probably wouldn’t stick around if he was aware of all my insecurities. He was way too perfect. I was angry with myself for behaving so rudely to him back in August and September. I could not fathom why someone like him would be interested in me.

  The roar of the car engine coming to life stopped my twisted thinking. I would just go with whatever happened and try not to analyze every nagging little detail. It was truly preposterous how guarded I was. I would seek out every oddity or flaw and become obsessed.

  The house was empty when I arrived home, just as I had mentally prepared it to be. The bookstore bag was wrapped around my wrist as I hurried up the stairs. It was nearly midnight, so I decided against reading the book tonight. I would find a nice, quiet place tomorrow to delve in to the adulterous life of Betty Jo.

  The sheets were nice and cool as I slid into bed. No novel could be as exhilarating as the time I had spent with Andrew tonight. Nothing much happened, but it was perfect for my fragile state. I closed my eyes—wondering if I would be able to let someone in to my life again.

  5

  Chautauqua Park

  The loud bursts of cheering woke me from my peaceful slumber. I had forgotten all about football Sundays and how irritatingly loud they could get. It was a little past noon, so I was fairly certain the Broncos weren’t playing yet as they had late games because of the Mountain Time zone.

  Something definitely was riling up the company downstairs. I stretched my arms and yawned as I reluctantly rose from my warm, cozy bed. Another loud burst roared beneath my floor,
where the living room was located, jolting me out of bed. There was no way I was going to be able to get any reading done here at home.

  I stomped loudly as I stormed into the bathroom. The warm shower seemed to relieve some of the irritation, but the question of where I would go to read my book lingered. Libraries weren’t open on Sundays around here and the cafés were packed with college students, primarily the ones I had attended high school with.

  Wrapping the towel around my body, I stepped out of the shower and proceeded to peer out my bedroom blinds. The sun shone brightly and it was only early October, so I was certain it would not be too chilly to visit one of the many hiking trails Boulder had to offer. This would be a perfect, quiet place to dive in to the scandalous happenings of Dickson County.

  After deliberating over what to wear, I pulled out my laptop and checked the weather report online. It was going to be a pleasant sixty degrees outside, but tonight would drop in to the thirties—I was glad the book was only one hundred and fifty pages long. Blue jeans and a short sleeved burgundy top is what I decided on, grabbing a light sweater to take along just in case. My brown hiking boots were easily spotted since I had never taken them to California.

  They were slightly dusty since they hadn’t been used since my mother’s death. They were a little tighter than I remembered, but would do for one afternoon of short distance hiking. I knew just the place that sat right off the main trail, perfect for some quiet book reading. Just as I tied the final knot, there was a light knock on my door.

  “Come in!” I shouted over the cheering downstairs.

  “Hey, sweetie,” my father smiled, entering the room.

  “Hey, Dad, who’s playing?”

  “The Chiefs and the Chargers.”

  Both teams were rivals of the Broncos. “That makes sense,” I said, realizing the cause for all the loud cheering.

  “Where are you headed?” he asked, as his eyes drifted down to my boots.

  “Chautauqua Park.”

  “What for?” His brow arched.

  “I have that book to read, and I need a quiet place.”

  “We can leave,” he offered.

  “No, it looks like a nice day outside. A good chance to get out of the house before winter rears its ugly head.”

  “That’s my girl,” he smiled.