by Leddy Harper
“It’s too late for that.”
I almost didn’t hear him, but I did. And I stilled, replaying his words in my mind, wondering if I’d misunderstood them. It was as if he’d spoken them to himself, not meant for me to hear.
“Bentley,” I said, pulling away from him so I could see his face. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me. Staying in town to make sure I’m all right, checking in with me, dinner last night.” I sighed, my chest constricting, thinking of all he’d done for me, even after I continually pushed him away. “I’m so unbelievably grateful that you were here tonight, for saving me. And thank you for…that”—I waved my hand behind me toward his truck, indicating what I’d meant without saying it—“even though I know how much you hated to do it. But I don’t think I can be around you right now. And I don’t know how comfortable I am in letting you know where I live.”
The hurt my last confession caused became evident in his dropped gaze. “You don’t have to thank me. And it’s not that I didn’t want to do that, it’s just…I don’t think you need it.” He gently took my hand, holding it between our bodies. “I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable—that was never my intention.”
I let out a pathetic, airy laugh when I realized I had tears falling down my face. I wiped them away with the back of my hand and sniffled. “I’m not really making too much sense right now, am I? You don’t make me uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, actually. Too comfortable sometimes. But my house has been this place for me where I can let go and cry, mourn my mom, grieve and let it all out. It’s become my own personal safety zone, and that’s what makes me uncomfortable—having you there.”
“We can go to my cousin’s house. It’s only five minutes away.”
I shook my head. “But my car is here.”
“I can bring you back for it. Later tonight or in the morning…whenever you’re ready to leave. It’ll be on your terms, whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“I don’t know…” I wanted to say yes. The thought of being alone with all the intense emotions swirling inside my head didn’t appeal to me. But I wasn’t sure being with him in this frame of mind would be any better. At least if I were by myself, I could let it all out. I wouldn’t have to pretend.
“Just come with me. If you want to leave, I’ll bring you back to your car and let you go home. But you don’t need to be alone right now. I know you think you do, because that’s what you’re used to doing, but you’ll never move forward if you continue repeating your past.”
I knew he was right, but I still wasn’t ready to give in. His words had brought me to the edge, tempted me to jump off and follow his lead, but I couldn’t find it in me to let go of the protective railing I’d held onto for the last six months—my defiance. “You don’t even know my last name. You don’t really know anything about me other than what I’ve told you. And you’ve even admitted that you know I tell lies to keep from letting people in too far.”
“Then tell me your last name. And give me a chance to know you. That’s all I want, Sarah. I don’t care how dark, how sad, how broken you are inside. I want to see it all.”
“You want to fix me…”
“No,” he said, raising his voice. His harsh tone caused me to freeze in place. “I want to help you fix yourself. I want to be there with you while you learn to surface from this ache you’re drowning in. I don’t want to carry you through it, or push you along. I want to be by your side, holding your hand, cheering you on every step of the way. This is your journey. I only want to witness it.”
“Campbell,” I said, wiping away more tears from my face. “My name is Sarah Campbell, and ever since my mom died, I’ve used sex for the company, because I constantly feel alone, even when I’m surrounded by a group of people. And sex clears my head from the depressing reminders that my mom is gone and I don’t have anyone left. It’s become a distraction…a punishment of sorts.”
He lightly ran his fingertips from my cheekbone to the corner of my lips. “You’re not alone, Sarah. What about your sisters?”
“They’re there…but they’ve moved on. They aren’t stuck in this shitty place where I am. They have each other and husbands and lives outside of me. Bree has a daughter to keep her busy. I don’t even have a dog. I know I have people in my life, and I’m not technically alone. But that doesn’t change how lonely I feel—all the time.”
“So then why do you want to go home and be alone instead of spending time with me?”
I dropped my head, leaning into him. “Because you scare me.”
“How do I do that? What can I do to—”
“No,” I said, shaking my head and pulling back again. “You scare me in a good way. I mean, for nearly six months, I haven’t wanted to open up to anyone, and I’m still scared shitless to do so, but you make me want to share myself with someone. With you. You make me want to be around you. You make me feel, even when I don’t want to. You confuse me, piss me off, make me want to run away from you at times. But at the end of the day, when I lay my head on my pillow, it’s not my mom’s last words I hear. I don’t picture her body on her bed where I found her, and my chest doesn’t feel like I have a million-pound weight sitting on it…it’s you who runs through my thoughts. It’s you who I want to see, talk to, be near. I don’t know what to do with that, and it scares me.”
He held my face in his hands, staring intently into my eyes. “I’m right here, Sarah. If you want to see me, talk to me, be with me…then do it. I’m not the one pushing you away. You just have to stop fighting—fighting me, yourself, what you want, what you’re scared of. Just stop, and give in. Let go.”
“What if I can’t?”
“What if you can? You haven’t tried, so you don’t know.”
“What if it breaks me?”
“You won’t break. You’re too strong for that.”
“What if I let go and I fall?”
“Let go. Fall. Take your time on the way down. And when you open your eyes, you’ll see you’re not actually falling, but soaring. Flying. Weightless and living.” His voice was almost breathless, yet his words were so powerful they slammed into my chest, knocking the wind out of me.
I closed my eyes and nodded, his sigh of relief striking my face.
“Come back to my house, Sarah. Come with me. I don’t care if we play Monopoly and talk about the newest celebrity gossip. I just want to be with you,” he begged softly with his forehead on mine.
“Okay,” I whispered, not giving myself a second to contemplate my answer. I had no idea where we were headed, no idea what stood in front of me. I didn’t care, though. All I saw was Bentley. He was all I felt around me. And that’s all I needed at that moment in time.
Step one—let go.
And I did.
Bentley
I kept my eyes on my rearview mirror, making sure Sarah didn’t turn around and head home. She’d agreed to come home with me, so I didn’t argue with her decision to follow me in her own car. I knew she needed some security, and I couldn’t strip her of it all too quickly, so I relented, and then watched her headlights in my mirror for the entire five-minute drive.
There was a part of me that hated what I’d done. I knew I shouldn’t have crossed that line with her, but something had come over me. I smelled my fingers and smiled, blocking out the part of my brain that berated me for touching her. It was wrong, yet it felt so right.
She felt so right.
So responsive.
Reacting to my touch more than anyone else ever had in the past.
The night before, after dinner, when she asked for the weekend to think about things, I have to admit it had gutted me. I didn’t want her to talk herself out of spending time with me. But I understood why. She had this impression that sex helped her, and as much as I wanted to do so much more than finger her, I knew giving in and doing more wouldn’t help my case. It wouldn’t help me convince her that sex should mean more. It should be taken more seriously. It could be so much better than w
hat she’s experienced from these random men each Saturday night.
Then, when Luke informed me of her showing up at Dixie tonight, I thought I’d lost it. I waited at the house for a few minutes, pacing the living room, trying to decide if I should go after her or let her learn on her own. Those few minutes I’d only managed to torture myself with thoughts of her with other men. And thinking about those few minutes, how I wasted them when I shouldn’t have even questioned it, made me sick to my stomach. Had I just left when Luke called, I could’ve found her before that fucker had her against the wall.
Walking into the bar and finding her that way…I lost it. All I saw was red. Had we not been in a public place, I would’ve killed him. A possessiveness had taken hold of me from the inside. Not that I’d claimed her as my own, or thought she was mine. But I’d begun to feel that her safety was my responsibility. Her happiness was my obligation. I was in charge of her wellbeing. I knew that sounded ridiculous, but it’s what I felt as soon as I found her trapped between a man and the wall. Then I heard his words to her, and nothing could’ve held me back. I was ready to choke him, steal his last breath as I told him, “Touch another fucking woman again and I’ll rip your dick off with my own hands. You’ll be begging for me to gut you when I’m done .”
I checked my rearview mirror again before pulling into the driveway, watching her lights follow me down the long pathway to the front door. It wasn’t until I knew she was really here, really with me, that I could finally breathe.
Luke had warned me that I was playing with fire.
And I was.
The longer I spent in town, the more I never wanted to leave. But I knew I didn’t have that option. I knew that once Sarah knew the whole story, she would probably push me away forever. I only needed to make sure she was okay before that happened.
Before I had to let her go.
But she made my heart feel like it beat again.
I didn’t want to let her go.
But I had to. She wasn’t mine.
Sarah
I’d ignored the fear that fought to consume me, pushed it deep down during the short drive to his cousin’s house. Instead of succumbing to the anxiety, I focused on Bentley’s taillights and let my mind wander. I thought about the way his fingers laced through mine, the warmth of his palm, the impressive size difference between our hands. My skin burned hot when I thought about what those hands had done to me, and the heights they’d taken me to. It was enough to keep my mind occupied until I pulled down the long driveway behind Bentley’s truck.
The house was nice with a small, open porch in the front, complete with a hanging swing. Observing everything as he led me inside kept the panic from setting in. I hadn’t been to another person’s house in so long, but I didn’t let that thought pull me under. I chose to admire the beautiful home instead.
I felt rather proud of myself for not freaking out and running away. It was one step closer, exactly what Bentley had promised. But then, he handed me a large T-shirt and a pair of boxer-briefs. He told me he had to take a shower, and that I was more than welcome to take one, as well. He even offered me his bathroom, saying he’d use his cousin’s to give me privacy.
That’s when I could no longer hold back the panic and anxiety.
My vision became laser focused on the exit of the room. I wanted to go, but wanted to stay so much more. I wanted to be alone, yet wanted to be right here with him. If I hadn’t made the choices I had in the past months, I wouldn’t be here right now, and as much as I was trying to climb out of the black hole I had crawled in, I was safe there. Nothing could penetrate my walls, and in my mind, nothing could hurt me.
I didn’t want to take a shower at his house, but the thought of sitting alone in his room for however long it took to wash himself was even worse. I told myself I’d make it fast—get in and get out. Not think about where I was or what I was doing, just close my eyes and pretend I was at home, alone.
That worked until I stood completely naked in his bathroom, surrounded by his things. I used his shampoo, his masculine scented soap, and then dried off with a towel I found on the back of the door—probably a towel he’d used to dry his naked body. I wrapped it tightly around me and held the corner to my nose, taking in his scent. But then I heard a knock on the door, causing me to jump, and it brought me back to reality.
“Everything okay in there?” he asked through the door.
“Yeah. Just getting dressed.”
“Okay. I’ll be in my room when you’re done.” And then I heard his steps disappear down the hall, leaving me alone once more.
I dressed quickly, having to roll the band of the boxers a few times to keep them up. But once I had them where they wouldn’t fall down, the T-shirt covered them, making it appear that I didn’t have anything on beneath it. I didn’t have much of an alternative, considering even if I put back on my jean shorts, the shirt would still hide those, as well. The longer I stared at my pitiful reflection, the more the instinct to flee kicked in. I tried to stuff it down, push it away, but nothing worked. The room felt small and suffocating, the walls closing in on me. I leaned against the counter to catch my breath, but it didn’t help. I splashed cold water on my face, but the trepidation remained.
I needed to get out of here. I needed my house, my bed. I needed my pillow to catch the tears that formed behind my eyes. I didn’t want Bentley to see me this way. He wouldn’t understand. Hell, I didn’t even understand. My actions were of someone suffering posttraumatic stress, not someone who’d found herself in the bathroom of a friend’s house after spending half a year pushing everyone out of her life. It didn’t make any sense. What did I have to panic about? Where was this anxiety coming from?
I stood up, prepared to run, when I spotted a bottle of cologne on the counter. Forgetting about my quest to leave, I grabbed it, smelling the top. It was the sweet scent I’d found myself craving all week long. I pumped it into the air, stepping into the falling spray. And instantly, I relaxed. I wrapped my arms around my waist, kneeling until I sat on the cold tile. The thought of Bentley’s arms around me as I closed my eyes, enveloped in his scent, set my entire body at ease. That’s when my mind opened up and everything became a little bit clearer.
I used to cry to myself, alone in my room at night, always over the same things. No matter what I did, the image of my mom’s body lying in her bed wouldn’t disappear. That day played on repeat every time I closed my eyes at night—until Bentley. I used to think about how she went to lay down that morning, and I hadn’t even told her I loved her. Regret was a motherfucker, and since Christmas, my life had been consumed by it. Even though Bentley had helped ease the tragic thoughts that had once consumed my nights, regret was one thing that remained present.
The bathroom door slowly creaked open, catching my attention as two bare feet stepped into view. My sight drifted up a pair of legs, thighs draped in black basketball shorts, and a torso covered in a white T-shirt. Going further, I found a set of dark-green eyes, narrowed and regarding me with worry. It seemed like he’d stood there a while before moving, but it couldn’t have been longer than a second.
“What happened?” His deep voice sounded full of concern as he hurriedly sank to the floor in front of me.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“I knocked like three times, and called your name. You didn’t answer.”
I shook my head, wondering how I hadn’t heard that. “I must’ve been deep in thought. It’s fine, though. I’m okay. I guess I needed a moment. I’ve had a rather crazy week, and apparently, everything decided to hit me all at once.”
He grabbed my hand to help me off the floor but stopped, his eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “Did you spray my cologne?”
I giggled nervously and tried to hide my pink-tinged cheeks. “Yes. I don’t know why but it calms me down. I’m sorry, I know that’s weird. It reminds me of you, of having your arms around me, my ear to your chest… It’s soothing. It calms me. I can’t explain i
t.”
He pulled me to my feet and into his hard chest, holding me there with my arms circling his waist. “Nothing weird about it. And don’t apologize.” He pressed his lips to the top of my head, and just like that, the apprehension, unease, dread…they all vanished. “So what do you want to do? I think my cousin has cards around here somewhere. And he has enough movies to last a year’s worth of rainy days.”
I pulled out of his embrace and took his hand in mine. “Honestly, as long as it doesn’t freak you out, I kinda want to lay down. Maybe talk. Or just stare at each other until someone blinks first.” I gave him a coy smile, needing to lighten the heavy mood he’d walked in on.
His grin caused his eyes to sparkle before he turned around and walked out, pulling me behind him. Once we silently made our way to his room, I stood in the middle of the tidy space, glancing around while he closed the door behind me.
“This is a nice room, but there’s practically nothing in here.” A large bed sat in the middle of one wall with a bare dresser opposite it. Other than a single window and a clock, nothing else hung on the walls. A small closet was on the wall with the bedroom door, and one side of the accordion doors sat open, showing a few shirts on hangers, but nothing else.
Bentley quickly turned to close the closet door, and that’s when I saw the familiar corner curio cabinet. The back piece that sat in the corner was made out of a thick tree branch, because when Bree had found it, the back leg was missing, so she found a branch and sanded it straight to use as the support piece. I remembered her working on this piece, and practically begged her to not sell it because it was one of my favorites. The painting was simple and subtle, more of a rustic appearance, unlike some of her other more colorful pieces of furniture.
“Where did you get this?” I asked in awe as I ran my fingertip over the smooth wooden shelves that held nothing on them.
“It’s my cousin’s. I’m not sure where he got it. Why?”