by S. L. Scott
Heaven.
I pull her closer, but then she pulls away. Tears fill her eyes and she whispers, “No.” When she looks back up at me, she adds, “Go.”
“No,” I respond, not willing to give her up. Not now. Not ever. Instead, I step forward.
She stumbles backwards. The word ‘No’ escaping from her mouth over and over again. “You need to go, Dylan.”
Protesting, I say, “You can feel what this is—”
Her leg is grabbed from behind. From the couch, Austin mumbles, “Babe, lay with me.” His eyes focused on her, then following her glare to me. “What are you doing here, Somers?” He sits up, tries to, but he’s wasted, sloppy.
“I got you here. I brought you back.” I refuse to call this place his home, so I stay with the safe word of ‘here.’ “You’re drunk.”
“Oh, yeah.” He grabs his head. “I need to go to bed.”
Jules steps away from him, his hand dropping to the floor. Her voice is clear and concise. “Lay back down because you’re not sleeping with me. You can earn your way back into the bedroom.” Firm, hands on hips, and completely sexy. She glances at me, then back to him.
He grabs her hand pulling her down onto his lap. “Live with me, Jules.”
What? He’s drunk. He’s talking crazy shit. She’ll never accept a drunken offer like that. He kisses her quickly before she can speak. Sneaky. Leaning back away from him, she looks into his eyes, and asks, “You’re serious, aren’t you? No, Austin. Don’t ask me like this. Not when you’re drunk.”
He pulls her down on top of him as he lays back, his strength evident over her small frame. “I love you, Jules. I want to come home to you every night, every business trip, to you.”
I’m forgotten as she leans toward him, listening. I become a spy in the middle of a most intimate moment. My mind is blank, shocked, so I stare, horrified with no valid argument other than I love her more than him.
He kisses her again and she starts to relax. I see her body caving into his.
“No!” Oh shit, did I say that out loud? They both turn and look at me surprised by the outburst. I break the bubble, the moment that seemed to be turning in Austin’s favor.
His tone is harsh when he says, “Dylan, leave.”
I’m an intruder to him. What am I to Jules? She looks at me, then her gaze drops quickly with a slight nod of her head.
Without knowing what else I can do, I walk. I’m losing her. I can feel it. I can see it, but why? He’s the one who got drunk. He chose to go out tonight instead of staying here with her. He even chose Asia over her. Is it not obvious? I would never do that to her.
“I’ll give you the world, Jules,” I hear him whisper as my hand goes to the doorknob.
I leave. Staying will only make me look bad in her eyes. I have time. He’s leaving. He’s stupidly leaving her alone for three weeks. I can do a lot in three weeks.
“Dylan?”
I spin around to her voice calling my name. She shuts the door behind her and we’re alone in the hall.
“Dylan, we still need to talk—”
“Another time.”
“It can’t be another time. I thought it could wait, but it can’t. We don’t have that kind of time.” When she walks closer, her steps are tentative. “I know you thought there could be more, but there can’t. We’ve had our time and that time has passed.”
My head is shaking as I try to stop her words before they come out. “No, we can talk later. Please. Please let’s talk on Monday at the park.”
“It won’t change on Monday. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you.”
“No.” I grab her hand. “Don’t close the door on us, Jules. Please, just give us—”
“Dylan, you closed the door on us. I was there. I remember. I lived through the pain while you did whatever it was you needed to do for you. I can’t help that you now regret that decision. But I’m not angry anymore. I finally found someone good. Austin is a good for me.”
“You just kissed me in there?” My voice is deep, hard, threatening.
“I kissed you to see. I thought it would give me answers. It didn’t. It made things fuzzier, dirtier. I made a mistake.”
I tighten my mouth, the words much grittier. “You felt it. I know you did. That spark that always existed between us is still there.”
She steps back, pressing her hands against the door as if she’s scared, as if she needs the solid wood for support. “I said yes.” Her body is calm, watching for my reaction to the bombshell. “I’m going to move in with him.”
“No! Dammit! No.”
Slipping from my reach, she’s too far, so I stretch further to grab hold of her, but she eludes me. “It’s over, Dylan. For good. Final. Please leave me alone. You need to move on with your life.”
“Please Jules,” I feel the warm wetness hit my eyes. “Don’t rush into a decision that could ruin—”
“I’ve been ruined for years. Austin is an incredible and patient man that wants me even with all my baggage and damaged insides.”
“I want you!”
“Well, you can’t have me! You had me and threw me away and for what?” Her voice rises loudly, too loud for the hall. “For what? Why did you leave me? Or should I ask who did you leave me for?” She crosses her arms over her chest, fury surging. “Tell me. Tell me you didn’t leave me for someone. Lie to me just like you did back then.”
I can’t speak. I’ll lose her for good if I confess, but I know I’ve lost her already. I can see it in her eyes.
“Tell me, Dylan,” she demands, stomping her foot while her hands fist by her sides. “You owe me this. Tell me why you left. The reasons you gave me are bullshit and you know it.” Rushing forward, her fists are flying. “Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!”
My chest takes each hit, knowing I deserve this. My feet stumble back, but I catch my balance against the railing. “I left you for Hillary.” It needed to come out. Shit! Why? I want to puke.
She stops immediately. Her face contorts with pain. Horrified and confused, as if I’m the one who hit her. I did. I hit her in the heart.
Rocking back on her heels, her voice is low, possessed. “You left me for that whore?”
I’m already pleading before she finishes, “It was nothing. Please believe me, Jules. She meant nothing to me—”
Her face turns cold, her eyes shut down, any doorway into her heart I had managed to open now slams closed. “You left me for someone who meant nothing to you. What does that make me then? It makes me less than nothing. After three years of giving you everything I had, everything I was, all my love was less than nothing to you.” Swatting my hands off of her, she says, “Don’t touch me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t come see me anymore. Don’t. Just don’t ever again.” She slips quietly back into our apartment, her apartment, and slams the door closed.
I should have groveled. Dropping to my knees, the harsh hit of reality has finally come full circle, taking me down with it. My flaws. My weaknesses. Exposed and out for her to judge, to hate me. I want to forget them, change them, erase them, but I can’t. Honesty is a tricky thing. I could’ve lied. I should have lied.
Stumbling down the stairs, I shove the door to the street wide open. The chill of the October night air covers my face, sobering me.
Reality sucks.
I should’ve lied.
I couldn’t though.
Not to her.
Not ever again.
The secret I protected Jules from all this time is now the same reason she hates me.
I know I’ve lost her.
Forever.
TWELVE DAYS.
Twelve nights.
Some restless. Some spent crying. Sometimes no sleeping at all.
Twelve long days since I saw Dylan, since I told him not to come see me anymore, not to talk to me, not to do anything regarding me.
I’m glad Austin’s gone. He’s gone for three weeks while I pack. The time apart gives me time to think, to sort through my st
uff, sort through my thoughts, my desires, my visions of my future. Sort through Dylan’s words, his actions in the past, and in the present.
Sitting at the bottom of my closet, I throw stuff carelessly into boxes labeled: donate, keep, and trash. After hours of cleaning, the trash box only holds three things—two prisms and a coffeemaker—the three things that tie me to Dylan.
At least I thought that was what tied me to him. They’re not.
My heart does. My feelings. My memories—good and bad anchor me to him like a weight. I wish I could trash those. I wish I could toss my heart out or donate it to someone who deserves to live a happily ever after.
I started to believe I deserved to again. Austin made me believe I did. But I was telling myself lies, trying to convince myself of an alternate reality. The problem is that no matter what happens or how many years pass, I can’t seem to rid myself of Dylan whether I have those three things in my possession or not.
I unfurl my body from the ball I’ve been in, wipe the tears away, and go to the trash box. Despite my shaking hand and ravaged heart, I can’t throw the stuff away. My logical side thinks it will make life easier if I do, but the truth is it won’t.
For the sake of my sanity, I compromise. I leave the coffeemaker and take the prisms, dropping them into the keep box.
IT’S LATE. I lay in bed in the dark with the phone pressed to my ear. The curtains are still open allowing light from the outside in. Austin’s voice is deep, tired as he speaks. “The deal is going better than expected. The clients have been reassured. I hope you understand why I had to come.”
“You needed to fly to China and meet them face-to-face. You’re very charming and a skilled businessman. I had no doubt you would repair relations.”
“Thank you,” he whispers. “How are you, love?”
I smile from the sweet nickname. “I’m okay. Tired from packing.”
Speaking of repairing relations… “Do you have any regrets, Jules… about saying yes?”
He must sense my distance tonight. He’d be right. I am distant, for all intents and purposes, but something deep inside is holding me back when all I want to do is move forward.
“Moving in together is a big step.” I haven’t lived with anyone since Dylan, not officially. “I don’t have regret saying yes to you, Austin. I’m just nervous to be leaving here. I’ve called it home for six years.” And I’m nervous to leave the last remaining piece of Dylan and Juliette. When I move, I should try to leave the memories here as well.
MOVING SUCKS. MOVING sucks even when you’ve paid people to move your stuff. I’ve already done the hard part, the emotional part of packing and figuring out what part of this life I’m moving into the new one. These guys are lifting, carrying, doing the physical part, but the psychological aspect is far more trying.
Just when I think I’ve got this, that I’ve made the right decision, doubts inevitably seep into my psyche, making me question everything all over again. The last four weeks have been torture. I’m ready to just be done with it all: all the doubts, all the debate, all the second guessing, all of it. I’m ready to just move in and start moving forward.
I’m paid up for the apartment through the end of the month. The landlord hasn’t rented it out yet and our deposit from six years ago holds it through November. For some reason, I like having the safety net.
I don’t supervise the movers. I spend every last second I can in the now empty place, trusting them to handle it all. Sitting atop a suitcase, the only thing left here, I look around. The painting also remains hanging on the wall. I’m undecided what I should do with it.
Maybe it should go. Maybe it should stay. It feels so a part of this place, of me, of who I am and what my life has been for almost four years now.
Austin doesn’t know its history—its true meaning in my life. It represents our downfall. Morbid, but I was grasping for that connection back then. All I had left of him was a coffeemaker. It wasn’t enough. I needed more. I brought the discarded painting home so I had a memory from when he left me. Unbeknownst to me, it also kept the pain alive, the destruction of something that was everything in my world, everything that was my world. Dylan was my world, so I held onto it.
I know that logically I should leave it, but it transformed over the years from something negative to something more… something that gave me hope. Something that showed I was stronger than all of the bad, that I was someone without him. I survived the devastation.
It’s pouring outside, typical for October. Not a great month to move weather-wise, but the weather doesn’t matter because I’ve been given a new chance at a happy ending. Austin will give that to me.
I take a big breath and look around once last time before walking to the window. My footsteps echo through the empty apartment. Looking down to the street below, the moving truck pulls out into traffic as Austin stands on the sidewalk, umbrella in hand, directing them.
He flew back from China a week early, so he could help. Deep down I think he was worried I’d back out. I don’t know. Maybe I would have. Maybe I wouldn’t. I’m just in neutral right now, going with the flow. This seems to be the right direction, but I guess I’ll never know until I do it. Dylan is gone from my life again, so it seems to be the only direction left.
Austin sees me from the street, looking up and waving. He risks the rain to smile at me, then nods asking me to come down. I take a moment longer, alone, here in this place, closing my eyes, I inhale. I expect the air to be stale. But it’s lively, sparking all my memories and bringing them to life.
It makes me wonder how different the air will be at his place when I move in, my new residence… my new home. That feels awkward to say. I release a staggered breath and open my eyes again. Dylan.
I see Dylan running down the street. I watch with a vested interest. Austin doesn’t see him, but Dylan must call his name because he turns around. He smiles even though I know this isn’t a polite social call.
Dylan’s soaked from the rain, his hands moving in overtime as he says something to Austin. Much like the anxiety I feel beginning to overwhelm me, I see Austin tense as well, obvious even from up here.
What is Dylan doing here?
What is he saying to him?
I run. I run out the door, not bothering to close it behind me, down the steps, bursting through the entrance, hit by the cold rain, and immediately soaked. Austin rushes over, standing protectively in front of me, his arm tucking me behind his back, the umbrella over our heads.
I know before anything is said. I know why Dylan’s here even before he calls my name, pleading. “Jules!”
…And my heart leaps from my chest.
DYLAN IS DESPERATE, his eyes locked on mine.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice is harsh though my insides are soft for him, wanting to reach out. I want to comfort him from the pain and calm his turmoil. I want to wipe that expression of loss from his face.
When he comes closer, Austin pulls me to his side, his arm tightening around my waist. Threatening him, Austin says, “Don’t come near her. I’m warning you, Somers. Don’t make this worse. Don’t put Jules in the middle of whatever this is.”
Dylan stops to laugh, a tinge maniacally. “Caught in the middle?” he asks. “Fuck! She’s not in the middle, man. She’s all of it. My whole world—the outside, the inside, the middle. My. Fucking. Everything!”
“Dylan,” comes out more as a sigh, my weaker side giving into him.
Austin doesn’t look at me, afraid to take his eyes off of him, but says, “Jules, he’s dangerous. Go back inside and call the police.”
Dylan doesn’t scare me. “He won’t hurt me.”
“Jules, don’t trust him. Look, Dylan, I don’t know what’s going on or why you’re at my girlfriends’ apartment, but you need to leave right now.”
“I need to talk to you,” he says, staring into my eyes, and ignoring Austin altogether. His voice is loud, shouting above the rain that pummels the ground all ar
ound us. “Please, Jules. I’m begging you.”
Shaking my head, I reply, “My decision is made, Dylan.”
“What the fuck is going on here?” Austin is losing his patience and he releases me. “Jules?” He turns to me, knowing he’s missing a key piece of the puzzle. “Tell me what’s going on.”
I look from Dylan to him, his beautiful eyes pleading and worried, seeing the truth in mine. I can’t hide it from him any longer. “I need to talk to him, Austin. Please wait in the car.”
“No.” He demands, “I won’t leave you to talk to this psychopath. He’s acting irrational. It isn’t safe for you to be alone with him.”
“Please,” I beg, tears filling my eyes. “Just let me talk to him in private. It won’t take long. I promise. Trust me. You have to trust me on this.”
“I think this is a huge mistake.”
“Please, Austin.”
After a stern pause, he nods, trusting me and conceding to my request. He’s an amazing man. Leaning in, he whispers, “Keep your distance. I’ll be close if you need me.”
“Thank you.”
He leaves me the umbrella and dashes through the rain to hop inside the waiting vehicle.
Dylan doesn’t waste another second. “I screwed up so many times, so many times, Jules. I’m sorry. I hate what I did to you. I never really understood the repercussions of my actions until I saw the pain in your eyes when I told you… when I told you the truth.” He steps closer and I stay, raising the umbrella up for him to come under. “I saw what I did to you. I can’t take back what happened, but I can tell you that no one comes close to what you mean to me. No one can replace you. No one is you.”
I raise my hand up to make him stop. “No more, Dylan, please.” When I look into his eyes, the blue is a sad foggy color of loss. He now knows. I can see in the depths of his soul that he realizes what he did to destroy us, that what he did destroyed me. “I believe you. I see your pain. It’s eating at your soul like it did mine, but it’s too late for us. You’re too late. When I needed you, you weren’t there for me. Fate may have thrown you back into my life or me into yours, but it’s not destiny. We make our decisions, our own choices, and I’ve made mine.” The tears fall down my cheeks, regret filling my heart.