by Marni Mann
I felt the water and pills start to move back up my throat. “Who was it?”
“I don’t know.”
“And yet you trusted him when he ‘promised’ he hadn’t touched me?”
“He promised me more than that, actually.” The intensity in his face was almost frightening as he spoke through gritted teeth. Slowly, almost as though he wasn’t aware of his movements, his hands found their way back to his lap. They looked even worse than they had a few minutes ago. The knuckles on his right hand were raw, the skin missing on several of them. It appeared like he had tried to wash off some of the blood. It was still there, circling several of the open scrapes.
“Does it hurt?” I asked.
“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
“What’s his face look like?”
He shook his head and shifted on the bed. “Not good.” I silently reminded myself to ask Caleb who the guy was. Hart wouldn’t be the only one to hit him. I had plenty to lay on him, too. “After I took care of him, I took care of you. I dried you off and carried you to your room. I didn’t want to spend time looking for something to dress you in. I just wanted to get you the fuck out of there, so I wrapped your bed sheet around you and drove you here.”
I had told him on the phone that I was at Caleb’s. Had I told him I was living there, too?
“How did you know it was my room?”
“Caleb and Jeremy told me. They had my back the whole time once they found out what was going on, but I didn’t need their help…and neither did you.” His eyes were looking through me again. “Do you know they’re drug dealers?”
I gave him a look.
“Oh yeah, Brady’s your best friend. Of course you know.”
I hated what he was insinuating. I hated that he found out I was living at Caleb’s. I hated that in the time he had been away from Bar Harbor, I hadn’t grown up at all. I was supposed to have a good job and a nice apartment and not run out of gas…and not get stared at by some pervert while I was passed out naked in a tub.
But that had become my life.
“Hart, look—”
My legs were now stretched out to the side. His hand rose and landed on top of my foot. It was covered in a blanket, but I felt the emotion his fingers triggered as if they were against my bare skin. “I don’t know anything that’s happened to you since I’ve been gone.” He scanned my face, completely avoiding my scar. “You’ve obviously been through some shit, and I don’t expect you to open up right away and tell me everything, but I want you to know you can, whenever you want to.”
That was it. I couldn’t take any more.
“You want me to open up? You want me to tell you all the shit that’s happened to me?” My voice was getting louder and I didn’t stop it. “How about this: someone I really loved left in the middle of the night and made no contact whatsoever in the years that followed, and he still hasn’t apologized for it.”
His fingers tightened on my toes. “Apologize…” Shock covered his eyes and lips. It didn’t sound like he was testing me. It sounded like he honestly had no idea what I was talking about.
“You skipped town, Hart, in the middle of everything. You hadn’t even told me prep school was a possibility.” The stabbing in my chest had nothing to do with being sick to my stomach, though it wasn’t helping at all. “You broke my fucking heart. And now you’re suddenly back, flirting with me at the casino and shoving poker chips and your phone number into my apron. You tell me all about why you left, but you never said you’re sorry for doing it in the first place.”
His eyes dropped to my feet, his hand reaching up and brushing through his hair. Back and forth.
Back and forth.
He tugged at the strands. “It had nothing to do with you. I promise.”
He just didn’t seem to get it. “That doesn’t matter! You left and didn’t say good-bye, and you never reached out again.”
When he looked up, the pain on his face stabbed the anger that had been building in my chest. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Rae.” Finally, it was there…and yet, I didn’t feel relieved like I thought I would. “I never would have hurt you intentionally; you have to believe me. I’m sorry for all of it—for leaving you, and for not telling you anything about it, and for not having the balls to reach out to you. I know how much I fucked up, and it kills me that I can’t change that. You have to know how much I loved you.” He paused, waiting for me to respond. I didn’t. “I had every intention of finding you when I returned. I didn’t know if you were dating or married, and I didn’t know anything about your life. I figured I’d have to look for you, or at least ask someone about you. But on my second night here, I drove up to the casino to unwind a little after a stressful day, and there you were. It’s like I was meant to find you. That’s got to mean something.”
That was so weak. “So you lucked out and happened to show up where I worked. That doesn’t win you any points.”
“In a casino, of all places? Somewhere neither of us would have just happened to be? Come on, Rae. That’s pretty significant.”
I wasn’t convinced. “Why did you want to find me all of a sudden?” I asked quietly.
His teeth dug into his bottom lip, and he dragged it into his mouth. “I wanted to see who you’d become, what you looked like. I wondered if you were anything like I’d imagined over the years. I wasn’t planning on anything other than seeing you with my own eyes, but when I saw you in the casino, the feelings I used to have came right back.”
The blanket had slipped, so I pulled it right back up to my neck. I needed the coverage, the protection. “You thought of me?” That was hard to believe.
He rubbed his chin against the top of his arm and looked at me through his lashes. “All the time.”
“Well, good for you. I’m not letting you hurt me again.” The same feelings had come back to me when I first saw him, too. I couldn’t deny that. But I was willing to force them aside for the sake of my well-being. There was no way I would go through that kind of hurt again. Not now.
Twenty-five days.
“You can trust me,” he said softly.
A laugh burst through my lips. It was either laugh or cry…and laughing felt safer. “I did trust you, and you fucking broke me.”
His gaze turned intense. “That was five years ago, Rae.”
“Yeah. I know.” It had been a long time that I’d held onto the pain. I couldn’t let it go that easily. “I don’t even know you anymore so why would I trust you?” He didn’t answer. I swallowed the knot that was building in my throat. “What do you want from me, Hart?”
His hand traveled to my calf. He wrapped his fingers around the muscle and tried to pull me toward him. “A chance.”
I yanked my leg away and tucked my knees against my chest, pulling the blanket around them. I could feel something inside me letting go…giving way. Tears. A whole day’s worth had collected, and they were getting ready to release—not a downpour. Just a sprinkle.
Drop, drop, drop.
“And what would keep you from hurting me this time? You’ve said it yourself: you’ll be leaving town once you finish the spa so you can build another one. We’ll be right back to where we were the last time.”
He pushed his way to the middle of the bed, his legs stretching over the side of the mattress, his hands on either side of me. “I’ll be here for the whole build out of Bar Harbor and Bangor, and probably Portland. That’s over a year away, Rae. So much can change in that time.”
“Portland is a two-and-a-half hour drive. You’re going to live here and work there?”
A sly smile covered his mouth and lit his eyes. “You’re looking for excuses.”
I glanced at his hands. “I’m…protecting myself.”
“You don’t have to. I know the mistake I made, and I’m truly sorry for it. And I’m not just saying that because you told me you expected an apology. I’m saying it because you deserve one.” He rested his hands on my knees and waited for me to meet hi
s gaze. “I think we’re destined for another chance. You can’t stop what’s going to happen, but you have to go in knowing that you’re going to give it everything you have.” His chin rested on his hands. “I can’t guarantee the future will be happy for us, and neither can you. But I’m certain about my feelings for you. Tomorrow can always be taken away from us. What are you going to do right now?”
He really could pull thoughts out of my head.
I knew all about tomorrow being taken away from me. I knew regret. I knew what it was like to want something so badly, and to not be able to have it.
I knew what it was like to wake up and be alone, and then to never feel happiness happy again.
I opened my mouth to give him an answer, just as my cell began to ring from the nightstand. Mom’s number appeared on the screen. Her timing couldn’t have been worse.
His eyes jumped to my phone. “Why don’t you answer that,” he said. “Take a shower, even a nap if you think it will make you feel better. I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk again.”
I didn’t agree or disagree. I just locked eyes with him and watched him walk out of the room as I swiped my finger across the screen. “Mom—”
“I really wish you wouldn’t make it so difficult to get in touch with you. You should answer your phone when I call you, at least.”
I exhaled a long, aching breath. “What’s up, Mom?” I didn’t have to ask; I already knew what she wanted. It was why I hadn’t answered any of her calls lately or returned her voicemails. At least this conversation would buy me a few days.
“I’d like you to come over for your brother’s birthday,” she said.
I stood up and shuffled into the bathroom. What stared back at me from the mirror was so horrifying, I almost dropped the phone. Yesterday’s makeup was caked and crusted under my eyelids. Bits of mascara and liner added to the black mess; smeared streaks of brown and gray sparkle that had once been the two-toned shadow I’d worn to work. I moistened my fingers under the faucet and tried to scrub it off.
“If you want to see me,” I counter-offered, “I’ll meet you for coffee…or something. But I’m not coming to the house.”
“Why do you—”
“You know the deal, Mom. It hasn’t changed since last year or the year before.”
“Jesus, Rae.”
I could picture the look on her face…all the pain, and the feelings that ate at her stomach. They were the same feelings that gnawed at mine. But that didn’t mean I would change my mind. She knew how it was: I was never going back to that house.
Ever.
I was surprised she could even live in that damn place knowing everything that happened there.
“Maybe you can’t do it for me,” she said, her voice pleading, “but can you try to do it for your brother’s sake?”
The reason I was staying away actually was for my brother’s sake. I knew by now she wouldn’t understand that.
“I’ve got to go,” I said. “Shoot me a text if you want to get coffee and we can plan a time when we’re both free.”
“Rae—”
“Bye, Mom.”
I hung up and placed the phone on the countertop. Water alone wasn’t taking off any of the black; it was only smudging further. So I squirted some soap onto my fingers and lathered until my hands filled with foam. The suds were able to soften the layers, and soon my face was clean, and all the makeup was off. It didn’t matter so much for my eyes; they stood out pretty well on their own. But the darker tones that swirled through my scar were even more noticeable now that they weren’t covered. And I had nothing with me that I could use to cover them back up.
I grabbed the tube of toothpaste that was sitting in a holder next to the sink, squirted a thick line onto my finger, and rubbed it over my teeth. It barely dented the furry coating that covered them. I needed a brush for that, but it didn’t look like there was a spare one in here. So I spat out the rest of the minty paste and moved deeper into the bathroom. There was a closet next to the shower that held towels in all different sizes. I grabbed one that was big enough to wrap around my body, and one I could wash with. Everything else I needed—shampoo, conditioner and body wash—were sitting on a tiled shelf inside the shower. There was quite a difference between this tub and the one at Caleb and Jeremy’s house.
I was grateful for that, at least.
***
Before going into the kitchen, I dressed in a pair of Hart’s sweatpants, double knotting the drawstring and folding the waist until they were the right length. I put on a fresh T-shirt that had also appeared on the bed while I’d been in the shower. As soon as he saw me, he moved over to the coffeemaker. Setting a mug underneath the mouth, he hit a button for it to begin to brew. Once the cup was full, he poured in a splash of flavored creamer and handed it to me. “Hopefully you still drink your coffee the same way.”
I leaned into the center island and moaned as I took my first sip. “It’s perfect.”
He slipped two pieces of bread into the toaster, setting a plate in front of it along with some butter. “The toast will help with your hangover, too.”
“I thought grease was supposed to do that?”
“You need something light first to help settle your stomach. I’ll feed you grease in a little while.”
My free hand gripped the edge of the counter. “There’s going to be another meal after this one?”
“Call it the main course. Toast is the appetizer.” It popped up, as if on cue. He buttered both pieces and slid the plate over to me. “Do you have to work tonight?”
“No. It’s my first night off.” I took a bite and washed it down with coffee.
“Then why don’t you just stay here?”
“You mean, overnight?”
He nodded. His gray gaze demanded an answer from me.
I set the coffee on the counter. Both hands now clutched the stone. “I don’t know, Hart.” I’d only gotten down a half a piece of toast, but my stomach already felt stronger.
He moved over to my side of the counter. I turned around to face him, keeping my hands behind me. I didn’t want to reach for him, but my fingers were close to doing just that. “You never answered my question before your phone rang. You staying here could answer both at the same time.”
This was the closest I’d been to him all morning. Even though my stomach was feeling better, I couldn’t say the same for my chest. Something was happening inside of it—the same thing I felt whenever I was around him, only more intense this time. Maybe because he had told me how he felt, and what he wanted from me. Maybe because he’d finally apologized, and I could see that he was actually sorry for leaving me behind. Or maybe I was just seeing in him what I wanted to see.
That alone told me I might need to try.
“A chance?” I asked. “That’s it?”
His hand reached toward me. With every inch that it drew closer, my muscles tightened a little bit more. My nails tapped underneath the counter, and there was a hesitation in my breath. I shifted out of the way just before he touched my face. It didn’t matter how much of my body he had seen. There was no way he was touching my cheek.
“Sorry…I was just going to brush the crumbs off your lips.” His hand hung in the air. His brows stayed perched, questions filled his eyes. “But yes, all I want is a chance. The rest is up to you.” His gaze dove straight into mine. When I didn’t look away, his hand fell to my waist. I felt it around the elastic that held up the sweats.
I hadn’t ruined the moment; I’d changed it. His fingers were demons I would have to conquer. In the meantime, they wouldn’t be allowed near my face…not until I was comfortable with it. I would be the one to place them there. For now, that distance was a good thing.
“Okay.”
His hands tightened. “Okay? That’s a yes?”
I smiled. It was genuine. “Yes.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I COULDN’T REMEMBER the last time I’d sat in front of a TV all day and watched
movies. Maybe because it hadn’t happened since Darren and I were kids. This time, I did it with Hart.
And he fed me the whole time.
There was a banquet constantly surrounding us. He made mozzarella cheese sticks, potato skins and deep-fried Oreos for our grease-filled lunch. During the movies, it was popcorn and candy…somehow he’d remembered that my favorite was anything gummy. He’d purchased every shape and flavor they sold—multiple bags of each. The final course was ribs, corn on the cob and potatoes that he’d grilled.
It was more than I had eaten all month.
Oddly—and thankfully—my stomach was keeping it down.
I set aside my last plate and leaned back into the couch. My legs rested on the ottoman, and my hands held my belly. I was so full, it was hard to breathe. It looked like Hart was having a hard time finishing what was on his plate. But my attention had drifted away from him, to the wall of windows just to the side of us. His place sat directly on the water with a full beach; glass panes ran the whole back length of the house, revealing a sky that was just starting to darken, and a sun getting ready to dip below the ocean.
“Move in with me.”
He just said it out of nowhere while I was watching the horizon. My head snapped around. “What?”
“We don’t have to call it a ‘move-in’ if that makes you uncomfortable. Think of it more like you’re just staying with me for a while.”
My hands reached between the cracks of the couch, gripping the cushions. “I can’t do that.”
“But you can live with a drug dealer?”
I wasn’t sure if he was talking about Brady, Caleb or Jeremy.
“I’ve known those guys forever, and they’re my friends. I’m only at Caleb’s until I can afford my own place. That should be soon—real soon, actually.”
He glanced at the TV. By giving me his profile, it highlighted the angles of his chin. He hadn’t shaved for at least a few days; he didn’t have a full beard quite yet, but his whiskers were thick and rough. There wasn’t any scruff on his neck. It appeared as if he was intentionally growing it out. It looked good on him.