Back to Yesterday (Bleeding Hearts Book 2)

Home > Other > Back to Yesterday (Bleeding Hearts Book 2) > Page 7
Back to Yesterday (Bleeding Hearts Book 2) Page 7

by Whitney Barbetti


  But Claire continued. “I swear, he carries at least four STDs. Sorry, Char,” she added as an afterthought. “He didn’t have any two years ago,” she said before immediately sipping her drink. It suddenly felt awkward among the girls, like I was privy to a secret drama between the two of them. “But seriously, Charlotte. You can do so much better.” She exaggerated the so with a slap to the glass table, which startled Charlotte and me.

  “I like him,” Charlotte said with a shrug of her shoulders. I could hear the defensiveness in her tone and realized how quickly her confidence had faltered when Claire had told her about Rachelle from the ice cream place. “Obviously you liked something about him too, once.”

  “Yeah, the fact that he told me he was different from everyone else.” Claire sipped loudly before waving for the waiter to bring her another drink. “Spoiler alert—he tells every flavor of the month the same stupid shit.”

  Charlotte looked offended and for some strange reason I felt for Charlotte, so I changed the subject. “What else is there to do around here besides drink and flirt?” Two things I wasn’t remotely interested in. I didn’t know how long my car would be out of commission, but if it was long enough that I’d be here a while, I wanted to get familiar with the area.

  “Depends on how outdoorsy you are,” Claire said, shaking off Charlotte’s offer of buying her another drink. “There’s bowling, the zoo, the Wiggly Bridge if you want to walk across the world’s shortest suspension bridge and follow some of the trails. Hmm. . .” She tapped her chin as she thought. “You can ascend Mount Agamenticus if you’re into hiking—it has a few trails. I think the longest trail is less than an hour.”

  It didn’t surprise me that the first thing I wanted to do was hike Mount Agamenticus, but it did surprise me that I was a bit disappointed by the shortness of the hike.

  “Why do you look like someone pissed in your cereal?” Charlotte had her head tipped to the side, and one dark lock fell over her shoulder. Her hair was so dark that the white Christmas lights around the patio blinked against the strands, distracting me momentarily.

  “I like hiking,” I said. “And I’m still a novice, but all the hiking I’ve done in the past has been several miles, minimum.”

  Charlotte blinked at me, like she couldn’t believe I’d said as much as I had. “So, you’re a tree hugger?” She looked at Claire and then back at me. “That’s interesting. Where’d you say you came from?”

  “I didn’t say.” I squared off with her, seeing through her suddenly. She wasn’t a threat or anything, but I could tell she liked to collect information from those she spent time with, as if she would then use that information to benefit herself somehow. I felt like I’d had a taste of that with Charlotte.

  “I’m getting tired,” I said pointedly, when Claire was sipping the remnants of her drink. Claire and Charlotte exchanged another look and then they both shrugged.

  “Sure, let’s go. Char, you need a ride?” Claire asked as she grabbed her purse.

  “I’ve got my bike,” Charlotte said, abruptly standing and leaving the patio through the side gate. Her back was straight, but her head was bent down and I wondered if she was eager to lick her wounds.

  We watched her leave, like she couldn’t wait to get away from both of us. Not that I blamed her; I was looking forward to locking myself in my little room at the inn, away from their questions. Away from anything that would bring my past to light.

  As I was tucked away in my room, all I could think about was how much watching Claire and Charlotte had made me ache for the friendship I’d had with Ellie.

  Chapter Nine

  October 2011

  My life was eclipsed by a shadow, hiding from a truth I was afraid of.

  There was no denying that I loved Jude. It slipped into me like warm molasses, coating me with its stickiness, telling me no, it wasn’t going to slide off like it had with Colin. Those feelings clung to my bones, even as the miles between Jude and me grew. I couldn’t shake them, shake him.

  And months later, still I found myself closing my eyes and visualizing him in front of me, his easy calm and quiet introspection providing a meditation-like tranquility. I wondered all the time what he was doing, who he thought of as his eyelashes brushed against his cheeks at night.

  After my car had been fixed, I’d stayed on with Maura at the inn. I didn’t have any other prospects as it was, and I’d been slowly getting familiar with the little beach city I lived in, and the people I worked with, day in and day out. Breathing in and out, writing up my poems and publishing them on an online journaling account after I’d closed the last one.

  And through it all, he’d had a hold over me.

  Which was why I found myself texting Mila, late one night after I lay in a recliner by the now covered pool, watching the stars. It wasn’t the roof, and it wasn’t the mountains, but it was outside—which was the closest I’d been to Jude since I’d left Colorado.

  Is he okay? I asked her, not bothering to say who I meant.

  I stared at my phone until my eyes crossed and the words bled into each other. I was two hours ahead of her, and I knew she would still be awake, probably practicing lines.

  Finally, my phone beeped and pulled me from the silence I’d surrounded myself with.

  Mila: Who the hell is this?

  It caused a smile to curl my lips.

  I debated what to say for a while, but worried Mila would show the number to Jude and ask him the same question, so I replied as quickly as I could.

  Me: It’s Trista, please don’t tell him.

  I sent it immediately as I formulated my next words.

  Me: I am trusting you to keep my new number to yourself.

  Her reply came right away.

  Mila: Roger that. Can I call you?

  I shook my head over and over, but typed: Yes.

  It felt like hours before my phone beeped the generic incoming ring tone and my thumb hovered over ANSWER for far longer than it should have, considering that I’d invited her to call me.

  “Hello?” It came out like a squeak, as if I hadn’t used my voice in a long time.

  “It is you.” Her reply came breathlessly. “I thought it might’ve been a prank or something.”

  I sucked in a breath and let it out. “No, it’s me. I’m sorry. . .” I faltered. Pressing a hand to my forehead and closing my eyes, I said, “I just, I know when I left things were. . .” I stopped. I didn’t know what to say.

  I heard a heavy sigh on the other end of the line and used my other hand to hold the bottom of my phone, waiting with bated breath for her to speak.

  “I don’t even know what to say. Except that I’m sorry. It was a real shit thing that happened in that hospital room. I shouldn’t have befriended you with everything that was going on behind your back.” I heard a noise and then she said, “Sorry, had to close my door. I don’t know who might be listening.”

  “I hope no one is listening,” I said. “I don’t want anyone to know I’m calling you. I know I’m asking you to lie, but—”

  “But it’s the fucking least I can do for you,” she interrupted. “What do you need? Money? I can send you some.”

  I shook my head before realizing she couldn’t see me. “No. I just worry about Jude. Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine. I mean, given the circumstances, he’s okay.” She lowered her voice for the next thing she said. “He moved out. He’s living on his own in a studio apartment. It’s for the best. Things were tense after you left. Colin had surgery and I stayed in the apartment to help him and. . .” Then she paused. “I don’t even know what to say, honestly. This is so fucking weird.”

  “I agree.” I was talking to my ex-boyfriend’s girlfriend, the one he cheated on me with. She also happened to be the twin sister of the man I was in love with. There was nothing not awkward about our conversation. “Listen, I just wanted to make sure he was okay. I keep thinking about when we went to Yellowstone and he struggled during one of the hikes
. I worry, that’s all.”

  “The good thing is that winter is coming soon and Jude isn’t a winter climber. So he’s spent most of his time traveling places warmer, with fewer strenuous hikes.” There was silence for a moment, but I sensed she had more to say. “He wasn’t great, after you left. He looked for you. Went to Wyoming.”

  My breath caught and I pressed a hand to my chest to hold it still.

  I always thought that my life was separated into a before and an after. Before Ellie’s death, and after. But I hadn’t even known who I was then, so how could her death define my life so sharply? Now it felt like my relationship with Colin and its conclusion had caused the fault line that separated my life. Who I was before and who I was in that moment. I was still figuring it out, but I knew, solidly, that I wasn’t the girl I’d been before.

  I was the girl who’d caused Jude to follow me to Wyoming.

  “He did?” I asked when I’d caught my breath again.

  “Yes. He met with your grandfather I guess.”

  “How did he find him?”

  “Colin told him. It’s really weird since you’ve been gone. I know you were here only a few weeks, but nothing is like how it was before. I don’t know how to explain it.”

  I took a strange kind of delight knowing that my absence had affected the three of them in a way that made Mila uncomfortable. But I needed to ask about Colin, because despite how he’d hurt me, he’d been such a big part of my life when I’d loved him. “Is Colin okay?”

  “Yeah. New medication. He’ll have another surgery in the spring. He’s fine.” Her voice was strange when she said that, but I didn’t press her. I felt lighter for knowing Jude was okay, but the scale tipped back to sadness too, knowing I wasn’t there for him. “Where are you?”

  I wouldn’t tell her. My phone number was Wyoming, thankfully, so she wouldn’t be able to figure it out. “Not in Wyoming.”

  She snorted. “No shit, Sherlock. But if you don’t want to tell me, I get it.”

  “You have my number regardless. Could you let me know if things change for Jude? I . . . that’s why I called.”

  Her sigh was loud and long. “Yep. Look, I know that what I did was unforgivable, so I’m really sorry. I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t want to like you when I met you. But I couldn’t help it. I wanted to tell you immediately, but Colin was waiting and—”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I cut her off, not wanting to go into that tonight, if ever. “Just text me if there’s something I should know. Or call me.”

  “Will do. Trista?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Take care of yourself. Jude has me to take care of him. But you don’t have anyone.”

  I rubbed my lips together and closed my eyes, taking it in—the fact that I was still alone. “Goodnight, Mila.”

  After hanging up, I dropped my phone beside me on the recliner and slouched farther down in the chair before tilting my face up to the night sky. I tried to find the constellations Jude had shown me one night, but the Maine autumn sky was so much different than the Colorado summer sky.

  I wanted to be back on the roof with Jude. But I wasn’t ready.

  More than once I’d put my things in a suitcase with every intent to drive back to Colorado. But then I’d remembered that it was just three months since I’d ended a six-year relationship, one that I’d sort of lost myself in. I could run to Jude, but I couldn’t burden him with making me happy. I couldn’t let him be the sole reason for my happiness.

  “Let’s get drinks,” Charlotte suggested as we ate lunch on the patio the next day.

  “I’m not a big drinker,” I said, though she knew this about me. Charlotte and I had struck up a friendship after the night of drinks, when she’d dumped the dirtbag she’d been dating and had returned to Maura’s doorstep, much to her own chagrin.

  “Duh. But I don’t want to drink alone and Jesse dumped me.”

  Jesse had been her most recent flavor of the month. He was six-foot-six with dimples and curly blond hair that poofed into a lazy fro after he’d been in the ocean. He said all the right things and charm practically oozed from his pores, but I hadn’t liked him. He had a look in his eyes that reminded me of my mom’s many exes, like he was a man who used and abused, but as long as he was providing for you, you should accept his behavior with a grateful smile.

  “You’re better off,” I said, squinting against the sunlight that poured across the patio.

  Charlotte sucked on her straw until the noise of an empty drink caused me to give her a look. She knew I hated that sound. She sat back against the metal chair and grunted. “I’m just sick of riding the same rollercoaster, you know?”

  “Then get off of it.” I shrugged and wiped my mouth with my napkin. “You don’t have to have a boyfriend. Especially not the same kind of boyfriend, over and over.”

  “I don’t want to be lonely,” she said with a hint of sadness in her voice that had echoed my mother’s. I think half the reason I had been pulled to Charlotte was because of how much she reminded me of my mother. She had similar quirks, similar taste in men, and a fondness for heartache that was completely foreign to me. Who wanted that? To continually feel like their heart had been wrung out like a sponge, by the hands of someone who didn’t care how deeply you hurt.

  “Then find something else that makes you happy. So you don’t seek out happiness in a penis.”

  Charlotte snorted, tossing her head back as she did. She was so pretty; it was obvious what attracted men to her immediately. But she was self-destructive and would seek out people who would only wind up hurting her in the end. “But Trista, penises can be a huge—” she waggled her eyebrows “—source of happiness.”

  Rolling my eyes, I turned my head to look out over the pool. “Sometimes they’re more trouble than they’re worth.” But I wasn’t thinking about Jude when I said that. Jude made it easy—like love for him had always been inside of me, dormant but waiting for the right person to nurture it.

  “That sounds like the grumbles of a chick who needs to get laid.”

  I had to resist rolling my eyes again. “Just because I’m a little soured to men doesn’t mean I need one to stick it into me.”

  “It’s your vagina’s funeral,” Charlotte said, holding her hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying, you’d probably feel a lot better if you had that particular muscle massaged a little bit.”

  “I can assure you, I wouldn’t.” I wasn’t normally so uptight, but the idea of a random hookup didn’t appeal to me. What was the point? I couldn’t do something casual like that, when I’d only been with two men—both of whom I’d cared deeply for. I didn’t judge anyone who engaged in regular one-night stands—as long as they were being careful. But for me, it was so much more than just sex. I didn’t want just sex. I wanted more.

  I wanted Jude.

  I also wanted to drop my face into my hands. Just a few months had passed since I’d last seen him, and I couldn’t get him out of my head. That didn’t bode well for the next few months while I figured my life out.

  Jude was a forever kind of guy. He wasn’t the guy you hooked up with on your quest for the last guy. He was the last guy. And in many ways, he was the first guy for me.

  But that didn’t mean I wanted any other kinds of relations during the in-between.

  “Where’d you wander off to?” Charlotte asked me, waving a hand in front of my face.

  I blinked quickly. “Just thinking.”

  “About tonight? And the hangover you’ll have tomorrow morning after spending the night drinking my woes away?”

  “I don’t think there’s enough alcohol in the world to drink your woes away.” I twirled the paper straw Charlotte had put in our drinks. The pink faded into blue as it spun in my fingers. “But fine, I’ll have some wine or something with you. Nothing hard.”

  “Okay,” Charlotte said, her cheeks pink and her eyes glittery. She’d changed from the meek, quiet, almost-feral woman at the begin
ning of the summer. “I’ll even graciously supply the booze.”

  “I expected you to,” I said, brushing crumbs from my lap as I stood. “Come help me with the suite that was booked on the fourth floor.”

  Charlotte groaned. “Is that the one that had the group of dudes?”

  I nodded, picking up my plate and cup. “Yeah, and the blow-up doll they brought in with them. I’m sure the room is something else.”

  Charlotte followed me, albeit reluctantly. “Do you think I should text Jesse?”

  I wrinkled my nose as I turned to her. “Are you kidding? No.”

  She loaded our dishes in the dishwasher. “Why not?”

  I had a feeling I’d need to find a way to steal her phone away from her that night and make sure she didn’t drunk text him. “Because he dumped you. Why would you text him?”

  Charlotte snapped a rubber glove on her hand before we boarded the elevator to the fourth floor. “To see if he misses me?”

  I watched the numbers climb from lobby to four before I spoke. “If he missed you, he would tell you. Don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing you miss him by asking him if he misses you.” In a way, it felt like I was talking to my mother, someone lovesick and insecure in the aftermath of a broken relationship.

  Charlotte fit her fingers through the other glove and looked up at me from under her long lashes. “You’re kind of smart, you know?”

  I didn’t think it was very smart—more like common sense. But Charlotte’s tender heart didn’t need me to say that. “My mom is a lot like you,” I said, which was the first time I had mentioned any bit of my past to Charlotte. “So I’m well-versed in this kind of thing.”

  “I’d like to meet your mom.”

  I shook my head at her as I unlocked the supply room and wheeled out the cart. “I think you and my mom together would be completely destructive.” I didn’t want anyone to meet my mother, least of all someone as mentally fragile as Charlotte.

  After giving the room a thorough wipe down, Charlotte told me to come to her room around nine that night with an extra tumbler for the wine and left me to clean the rest of the floor by myself. I didn’t mind cleaning alone. As much as I enjoyed Charlotte’s company, she was completely distracting. I found myself needing more time to think, to reminisce about Jude, ever since talking to Mila.

 

‹ Prev