No Regrets (No Regrets #1)

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No Regrets (No Regrets #1) Page 19

by Aimee Noalane


  She unfolded her arms and let her anger subside.

  “Don’t you want to know if she’s happy?”

  “You could tell me. It would make things a lot easier,” I joked.

  She shook her head. “Listen, Oliver. I can’t force you to do this, and I definitely do not want you to do it for me. You need to find the will and desire to do it for yourself. And you know what? Maybe you could also do it for her.”

  She stayed silent for a minute or so, letting me reflect on everything we’d both said. A cool breeze blew between us, and I figured it was time to take her inside.

  “Oliver,” she called as I put her exhausted body in bed.

  “Yeah, Mom?”

  “One day, your dad and I will be smiling and watching you both, together again…”

  I nodded, pretending to smile. There was no need to provoke another argument with her again. Stepping out, I closed the door ajar and knocked on my old bedroom door to inform Alice, our live in caretaker, that my mom was asleep and that I would be out for a while.

  Facing Demons

  Oliver

  My mom knew I was hurting. Juggling my job, everyday life activities, dealing with her illness and her eventual passing; it wasn’t easy. But one night, as I was sitting by her bedside talking, she explained that there was something curious about death. She couldn’t quite explain the feeling, but she kind of felt relieved that it would soon be over. She’d talk a lot about my dad, and how she couldn’t wait to be with him again. It was as if she was at peace with the whole dying thing.

  I remember her telling me that she wouldn’t leave until she knew I would be ready to let her go, and in the end, it’s exactly what she did. Even though her kind soul leaving her body left me devastated, somewhere deep down, I knew that we’d both be okay.

  I think this is why my grieving process was a lot less difficult than it was when my father died in that car accident.

  As I dialed their number, I started getting nervous. It was late, but my worry was mostly because this was the first time in six years that I had called and not hung up after the first ring. I didn’t know much about Abby’s life, but my mom had told me that she had moved out of her mom’s house years ago.

  Even though the likelihood of Abbygail answering the phone at her mother’s house was about slim to none, the possibility that I could be hearing Abbygail’s voice for the first time in far too long made my heart race and my hands all sweaty.

  “Hello?”

  “Uh –”

  Oh for fuck’s sakes, really?

  “Hello?” she repeated.

  I shook my head at my fearfulness. “Uh, hi, may I please speak with Mrs. Jenna Evens, please?”

  I should have wished her Happy Birthday.

  “Yes, one moment please.” I heard muffling then two people talking.

  “Who’s on the phone?”

  “I don’t know, but he wants to talk to my mom. Who calls at this time of day anyway?”

  It wasn’t even that late, like nine thirty or something. I just kept pushing back the phone call until no other family member or friends were left to call.

  “Did you check caller ID?”

  “Of course I did. What am I? An idiot? I don’t recognize the number.”

  A small grin spread across my face as I listened to their altercation.

  Well, that temper of hers never really changed.

  “Mom? Hey Mom,” her voice softened, “I’m so sorry to wake you, but there’s some guy on the phone asking for you.”

  “Okay, sweetheart, just give me a second. I’ll take it.”

  “Hello?”

  “Um, yes, hi ‘Mam,” I faltered. “I mean Mrs. Evens, I mean–”

  God this is so awkward.

  “Who is this? Do you know what time it is?”

  “Yeah, I do. I’m sorry. It’s Oliver, Oliver Langton.”

  “Then it’s Aunt Jenna to you, young man.”

  I winced. Her reaction wasn’t one I expected, I didn’t deserve to still be considered as her family.

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Jen. I know it’s late, and I’m sorry I woke you. I’m calling about my mom…”And I went on explaining to my ex-best friend’s mother how, as of the previous night, I was officially an orphan.

  Abbygail

  I listened closely to my mother and as the conversation progressed, there was no mistaking who she was talking to. Standing on the other side of her bedroom door in complete shock, well, not complete shock, I knew the day would end up happening sooner or later; all I wanted was to do was breakdown and cry.

  “Okay, Oliver,” she sniffed. “Yes, okay. I’ll call you tomorrow, sweetheart, and we’ll figure something out.”

  “Yep. Try to get some sleep, and I’ll talk to you soon.”

  I crumbled to the sound of my mother’s pained wavering voice. My Aunt Evelyn was gone.

  I took out my phone and stared at his number for what seemed like an eternity. Huge teardrops fell over my hands and screen as I debated my next move. Over six years of silence, and there I was still desperate to call the heartless guy that ruined my life by abandoning me.

  “Hey, Abs?”

  I looked up to Chase and let out a loud relieved sigh. Regardless of what had happened between Oliver and me, one more second and I would have dialed the long distance number just to make sure he was okay.

  “Yeah?”

  “Do we need to postpone our movie night?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek trying to retain my own heartache and nodded. “My mother’s best friend just passed. If you don’t mind I’d like to stay with her tonight.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I completely understand. Tell your mom I’m sorry for her loss, okay?”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  “And Abby,” Chase called going back down the steps, he had been inside our house so often that he didn’t need me to show him out. “I’m sorry for your loss, too. I know Evelynn meant a lot.”

  I watched him turn the corner and slipped my phone back into my pocket. The exhale that escaped me as I stood was a mixture of relief and sorrow.

  ***

  Memories of my childhood flooded my heart as my mother slept soundly beside me. Restless, I sat up and looked outside her bedroom window. From over our garage, I could clearly see the remainder of the leaves from the willow tree being blown away in every direction the gusty wind would take them.

  How I wished my pain could fly away along with them...

  Tears ran down my face as I thought about the only guy I had ever loved. I hated him. Yet there I was wishing I could be over there holding his grieving hand, because in my mind that’s exactly where I should have been.

  Unwanted guest

  Abbygail

  I was asked to testify in court. It was supposed to be a quick thing where I simply related some facts about a case I was involved in with work. The initial plan was to finish work early and go gift shopping for my mother’s birthday. Unfortunately things got hectic at the courthouse, and the case got delayed over and over. It got pushed until the last hearing of the day, and I ended up leaving after five. I spent the whole day waiting in a closed-up eight-by-ten room, with smelly and unsavory company.

  Not my idea of a nice day.

  Around lunchtime my mother texted me saying that she needed me to pick up some groceries for her, and that she’d be home around five thirty. By the time I got out of the courthouse, the sun had set, and as our day progressed, so did her extensive list of groceries. Two weeks had gone by since Evelynn’s passing, and all my mother did was work. My doing her groceries or running any other of her errands, weren’t out of the ordinary. The fact that she would be getting home before dinner time was a miracle.

  ***

  My brows furrowed as I parked my car in my driveway across the street. I still couldn’t believe I was the official owner of my ex-best friend’s home. It had all happened so fast...

  When I turned eighteen my father told me that after
deserting us, he started putting money in an account for me. He claimed it was the only way he could manage his guilt over leaving us behind. The plan was that I could use it for whatever I wanted once I became an adult. At first I refused it. Years of absence couldn’t be replaced by a hunk of cash. But then Chase’s dad got transferred back to Kingston’s military base and the Carter’s put Oliver’s old house up for sale, so I changed my mind.

  Not about my father’s presence in my life, but the money: obviously.

  During the first few months I alternated between living in my apartment in Ottawa and my new house. It was just easier to skip the traveling time when I went to school. But then life hit me with a load of unplanned bullshit and made me move into my own house, alone, and way earlier than I had planned.

  To some of my friends, buying Oliver’s childhood house was just plain weird, but to me there was nothing more normal. Even though the Langton’s hadn’t been a part of my life for years, that household was my second home. I grew up inside its walls, and they were a part of who I was. They reminded me of the person I could be, and every time I stepped inside, I felt the calming balm over my unhealed wounds

  When I stepped out of my car, my mom’s Lexus was nowhere to be seen, she should have been home by the time I’d made it back from the grocery store.

  Honestly, I was worried about my mother. Watching her work every possible shift at her dental clinic was driving me nuts. I knew she did it to keep her mind busy, but her overworking herself wasn’t healthy. Unfortunately, every time I confronted her about it, her responses were the same: ‘My heart is in perfect condition, Abbygail. I can take it.’ Or ‘You would do the same if you were in my position, so don’t you dare judge me, Abby.’ And the worst part was that she was completely right.

  “Mom?” I yelled walking inside her house without knocking.

  Well, maybe she is home after all and finally decided to put her garage to use...

  “Mom, can you come and give me a hand with these please?” I kicked off my pumps knowing very well that she would throw a fit if she heard me walk inside her house with my heals on. “Mooom?”

  “Finally,” I mumbled when the bathroom door opened. It was weird that she was using that bathroom and not hers over the garage.

  With my hands full, I walked up the three steps towards the kitchen and faced the hallway that lead up to my old bedroom. Ready to request her help again, I opened my mouth to shout, but quickly realized that my mother wasn’t the one stepping out. It was a man. And he was just standing there half naked in his lose faded jeans while I unsubtly ogled him.

  My mom can’t possibly be dating this guy. Can she? I mean this guy looks like he’s about my age.

  I bit down on my bottom lip. The guy was tall, and I couldn’t help staring at the impressive art work that covered his well sculpted body. The unbuckled belt of his jeans made them hang low on his hips, and as my gaze traveled up and down his frame, he crossed his arms over his very well defined abs, and smirked. He was clearly appreciating the look he was getting from me.

  Smooth, Abby, real smooth.

  I studied him silently. His hand went through his damp, dark brown hair and he licked his lips. When the metallic stud appeared through is sexy grin, I came to the conclusion that he could clearly not be my mother’s boyfriend.

  But who the hell?

  His dark stare matched mine. His hand scratched the scruff of his square jaw, and he stood there, daunting me with his cocky eyes.

  Waiting.

  It was as if he expected something from me…

  Until it happened.

  Fuck...

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to take the opportunity to thank the several people involved in my perseverance throughout the past year.

  Danielle, Lise. Thank you for taking a shot at my first draft of No Regrets. Your words gave me the push I needed to push to follow my dream of writing Abby’ and Oliver’s story.

  Patasha… Hell, I wouldn’t even know how to thank you. Your help has been beyond what a writer could possibly wish for. From present tense, to ellipsis’s… my writing would not be what it is today. I have come a long way and it’s because of you. I might have been a good student, but you were the best teachers.

  Chelle, from Indie Solutions, I swear to God, I don’t know how many times I secretly said you were a pain in my ass. But you were the best pain in the ass ever. Thank you for helping me make this story amazing.

  To my editor, cover, teaser designer and formatter, Schmidt Author Services, you’ve been amazing. Working with you has been a breeze. Thanks for your patience and everything you’ve done to help with this book.

  Kelly, Melissa, Stacey and Colette. Thanks for your support. Thanks for your words of confidence. Thank you for helping me get this book out. Thank you for the hours and hours of your precious time. I have no idea how many times one can say thank you for it to be enough: BUT THANK YOU!!! Without you, I would be completely lost.

  To anyone who reads this, please go visit these Facebook pages and give these blogger ladies a like, because they seriously rock.

  BookSmacked: https://www.facebook.com/BookSmacked

  Kalpas Book blogs https://www.facebook.com/kalpasbb

  As for any struggling author, take a minute to visit and like

  Sassy Page: https://www.facebook.com/SassifyYourself/:?fref=ts

  I promise, it’ll be the best decision you ever make.

  Nath, Vicky… Je n’ai aucune idée ce que je ferais sans vous deux. Je vous aime tellement. Merci de tolérer mes folies. Merci d’avoir été aussi présentes. Merci pour votre écoute, vos opinions, vos encouragements, votre support dans ce projet qui me semblait sans fin.

  A mon amour et mes enfants, merci pour votre patience. Merci de m’avoir pardonné pour mes oublis. Merci pour vos sourires. Merci de me laisser poursuivre mes rêves, même si parfois il s’agit de vous délaisser pour mes idées et aux conversations dans ma tête. Vous êtes ma vie et je vous aime plus que tout au monde.

  And to my readers, thank you for your support. I hope you enjoy reading about Abby and Oliver just as much as I loved writing their story.

  Living With Regrets will be out real soon, and I can’t wait for you to read it. xxx

  About the author

  Taking care of children is Aimee Noalane’s vocation. Reading is her passion. Writing is her new adventure. She is a wife, mother, foster parent, friend, and Canadian author.

  Chocolate and candy are her devilish addiction, but if you’re really sweet she might agree to share some with you.

  Follow her on:

  www.facebook.com/AimeeNoalaneAuthor

  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15989785.Aimee_Noalane

 

 

 


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