My Unexpected Hope

by Tammy L. Gray

  Safely tucked inside her old car, Laila hit reverse, turned around, and drove back the way she had come. Back to the town that had suddenly forsaken her, like all the people in her life. Well, they could all keep their opinions. She didn’t need them or their judgment. She was moving to Burchwood, anyway.

  Finally steady, Laila turned on the radio and went through the self-soothing exercises she’d learned as a kid. Deep breath in, deep breath out. A mental pep talk about boundaries. Then another deep breath in.

  The pattern continued until she passed the Fairfield sign.

  POPULATION: 9,468.

  Soon it would be 9,467, and her life could finally begin again.

  She turned the wheel, slowing to navigate the huge pothole that had formed at the beginning of her driveway. Her little white house came into view through the trees, but that wasn’t what made her slam on the brakes ten feet from her front door.

  The silhouette stood. Broad, muscled shoulders, a powerful frame that stood exactly four and one-third inches taller than hers. He shoved his hands into his jeans. A large black duffel sat inches from his scuffed black army boots.

  She couldn’t move, so she just stared through the windshield, her throat so raw it felt like she’d swallowed broken glass.

  He took only one step down out of the shade, one step closer to her, but it allowed the sun to frame his beautiful face. Not just handsome, no. Beautiful. His chiseled features were a work of art. His skin tan against black, unruly hair, his green eyes a dramatic almond shape and that mouth, all sensual lines and softness that burned into her memory. That face was just as much a weapon as his ability to make her believe in him time and time again.

  Finally, her trembling hands found the gear, and she parked, still stopped in the middle of the driveway. She inched open the door, her body cold despite the rising temperature outside.

  He stepped down one more time, and they were level with each other. His black T-shirt hung to his hips; a thick chain encircled his neck and fell just past the collar. And there was more, so much more, that her memories and her reality began colliding and fighting for dominance.

  It was a dream and a nightmare all rolled into one.

  Chad Richardson had finally come home.

  CHAPTER 10

  When Laila’s car halted in the driveway, Chad stood and shoved his hands into his pockets. She was only a slight outline though the windshield, but just that was nearly enough to take him to his knees. Panic seized him. He didn’t have a game plan. He’d thought he would just wing it, that the right words would find their way, but words felt impossible right now.

  He took a single step down. She hadn’t moved, and he didn’t know if that was good or bad. The sun’s reflection shielded her face through the glass, but he could feel her all around him, like a current across his skin. He wondered if she felt him the same way.

  Her driver-side door finally opened, and he took the last step down to the ground. Golden hair came first, then her beautiful eyes, wide enough to show her shock. She slammed the car door, and it was all he could do not to run, wrap her up in his arms, and kiss that perfect mouth, still hanging slightly open.

  She walked with hesitation, her eyes never leaving his, past the edge of the asphalt and into the front yard, shaded by the tree they’d planted together on their second anniversary.

  “Why are you here?”

  They were still too far apart. At least six feet. The hair around her face blew slightly in the breeze while the rest stayed locked in a tight braid. He wanted to tug out the hair band, loosen the pieces, strand by strand, and pull her to him, like he had in every dream for the past two years.

  “For you.” Why else would he have come home? Without her, Fairfield was empty.

  She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “But why are you here?” She stressed the word like it was bigger than just their house, like it encompassed the town, maybe even the state.

  “You told me to come back when I had my life in order.”

  Her lip trembled, and it was all the invitation he needed. Three long strides and he was within arm’s length. His hands itched to touch her skin, to kiss the spot on her neck that would make her purr. To have her run her fingers down his back.

  “Laila, I’ve missed you so—” He reached for her, unable to do anything else, but she slipped away before he made contact.

  “I can’t . . . No . . . I won’t do this.” As if she were shaken out of a fog, she steadied her gaze. “You need to go.”

  That’s not going to happen.

  He stepped closer and she stepped back, almost colliding with the tree behind her. She set her hand on the bark and moved until the low hanging leaves were practically a guard in front of her.

  “I just want to talk to you.”

  “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want you here.” Her voice was hoarse, as if she’d been yelling for hours.

  “You don’t mean that.” He stepped toward her again, wishing they were enclosed so he could keep her from running. He could see she wanted to, and he didn’t blame her, but the guy who had hurt her was gone. That horrible, destructive guy no longer existed. “I’ve changed.”

  “You always say that. It’s your favorite line.” Her words came sharper this time, less strangled. “But honestly, it doesn’t matter, because I don’t care anymore.”

  For one horrifying second, he believed her, but then moisture filled her eyes, and he knew she cared just as much as she always had. Too much, she used to say, but that was what made Laila so special. Those who had the privilege to be loved by her were forever changed.

  He swallowed and glanced up at the live oak they’d envisioned their kids climbing on one day. It’d grown close to ten feet since he left. “She’s gotten tall. You were right about it holding a tree house. It’s perfect.” A dead branch blocked his vision of her, so he snapped it off.

  “Are you really talking about our tree?”

  Frustration rippled through him. “Only because you keep saying things you don’t mean.” It was torture. Absolute torture standing there, this close, her perfume weaving its way into his senses. He’d picked out the scent himself. Had kissed every inch of the skin it lingered on, and now he couldn’t even touch her.

  “I’m sober now.” He said the words like he used to say I love you. Maybe that would break through the fortress around her.

  But it only made her eyes go cold. “You don’t get to show up here after a year of no contact and say that to me.”

  “You kicked me out and changed the locks. You told me not to come back until I had my life together. Well, I’m here and my life is together.”

  “Stop saying that.” Laila’s voice caught in her throat. She could barely breathe.

  Those words. Those beautiful, gut-wrenching, manipulative words.

  Chad moved toward her, but she put up her hand. She didn’t want him closer. It was already too hard to look at him and not get sucked back in time. He’d changed so much from the last time she’d seen him, yet the way he looked at her was exactly the same.

  She exhaled, reminded herself to be strong. This was what he did. He reeled her in, then ripped her heart out.

  “Things have changed. I’m happy now, and you’re not a part of my new life.”

  Sheer pain washed over his face, and she immediately felt guilty. Then angry because she shouldn’t feel guilty. He was the one who had done this to them.

  “I just want an hour. After all we’ve been through, please tell me you can give me that.” The hurt was evident in his voice. She couldn’t let it get to her. She had to be strong.

  “I have to work. I’m already going to be late,” she bit out.

  “Tomorrow, then.”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head, gnawing the inside of her cheek. She knew why he’d come home, and she hated Cooper for it. Everything had been moving forward, and now it wasn’t.

  “Tell me what I have to do. I’ll do anything.”

  S
he didn’t have time to react before he was next to her, his scent overwhelming. It made her heart beat faster. Made her cheeks flush with a heat no one else could evoke from her. Fingertips lightly grazed her cheeks. The feel of him was worse than anything else, a deep stab of memory forcing her back in time so that all she could remember was the smell and taste of him.

  Chad must have felt her weakness, because he shifted closer. “Please tell me it’s not too late.”

  She wanted to both slap him and crawl inside him with equal passion. “Don’t” was all she could say; anything else would expose her longing.

  The minuscule gap that had existed between them was now a memory as his chest grazed hers, his mouth so close she could feel every breath, every heartbeat hammering in both their bodies.

  “Please stop,” she all but begged. Her instinct was to touch him. To kiss those lips, to wipe the tears from his eyes. To love him.

  His whole body deflated. Eyes and arms dropped. “Sorry,” he said, brushing a lock of black hair off his forehead.

  “I know you are. You always are.” Her voice sounded as lost and empty as she suddenly felt. She walked toward the house, and the echo of crunching grass followed her. Seeing his bag on their porch, the audacity of it, brought a new wave of anger. “You can’t stay here.” She attempted to lift the bag and throw it at his feet—dramatic effect and all that—but it only moved an inch.

  “I know. I didn’t expect to.” He easily picked up the duffel and tossed it away from the porch. Her eyes lingered on his arms. They were strong, healthy. A man’s arms. Arms that had held her, protected her.

  She grabbed the tip of her braid. “Just tell me why. After all this time. Why now?” She knew the answer, so maybe it was a test to see if he’d still lie to her.

  “I know you’re seeing someone.”

  She huffed out a dry laugh. “So, what? You came to break us up?”

  His wince was noticeable, and again she felt a wave of guilt. They’d been together since they were kids. Neither had ever dated anyone else.

  Chad’s eyes pleaded with hers. “I came because if I waited any longer I might lose you.”

  Laila fought to keep the tears away. She’d been the dutiful wife. She’d given him chance after chance.

  “We’re divorced, Chad. You have lost me.”

  “I never signed those papers.”

  “That doesn’t matter. It’s still legal. It still happened, whether you wanted it to or not.”

  He lifted his hand, the gold band gleaming in the sun. Seeing it on his finger was like a dagger in her gut. The ring contoured to him like it’d been etched there, the white skin underneath a sharp contrast to his now-tan fingers. “’Til death do us part. I said those words and I meant them.” His voice was angry, and it rumbled through her.

  Very rarely did Chad get jealous. She never gave him reason to. When they were together, no one else existed. But they weren’t together anymore, and his spouting out wedding vows when he’d dishonored them time and time again with his addiction was unacceptable.

  “I really can’t do this with you right now.”

  “Okay.” He took a beat and seemed to pull himself back under control with an ease that unnerved her. Anger was a natural emotion for him, after growing up with his father, and it usually took brooding time and a stiff drink to make it go away. “My showing up is a shock. I can see that. Let’s just try this tomorrow.”

  “I have nothing left to say to you.” She turned away so she didn’t have to see him or this new steadiness he seemed to possess. She was moving in a few weeks. She had a life. A boyfriend. She was finally on track.

  “You expect me to walk away? Now that I’m clean. Now that I have my crap together. You honestly think I’m walking away from you?”

  A tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly wiped at it. She’d waited so long to hear those words. So long to see him this way. Strong. Determined.

  She heard him take a step. She should flee, slam the door, and never look back, but her feet remained planted.

  Hot breath blew over the top of her head, and the warmth of his body pressed against her back; he wasn’t close enough to technically touch her, but close enough that every nerve in her body came alive. “I love you, Laila. I never stopped loving you, and I never will stop loving you.”

  She closed her eyes and swallowed the words that had become so automatic for her. It was too easy to remember what it was like to be loved by Chad when he was himself and not the nightmare he became when the alcohol and drugs took over. But she couldn’t forget. Couldn’t let herself forget how bad it had become.

  I watch as Chad stumbles in the door, tripping over his untied shoelaces. I can tell he’s trying to be quiet. He probably assumes I’m asleep, and I should be. It’s after three in the morning.

  “Where have you been?” I rise from the couch, where I’ve been waiting since coming home from work two hours ago. Chad promised he wouldn’t use tonight, but I can see it in the brightness of his cheeks, the way his eyes stay permanently dilated. “You told me you were only going to a movie. And why didn’t you answer your phone?”

  “The battery died.” Chad stands there. He won’t look me in the eye, and right now I don’t really want him to. His behavior is getting worse, his excuses more frequent.

  “I told you I couldn’t live with an addict. You know what my mom is like.” I’m crying now, and I can see the way it hurts him. Chad promised me he would never be like his father, yet ever since his mom passed away, he hasn’t been able to stay sober.

  “I just needed to blow off some steam, and Katie had a little pick-me-up.” He comes closer, wraps me in his arms, and kisses the side of my head. “I love you. You know I’d do anything for you.”

  “I love you too, but it’s been five months now. You have to start dealing with the grief. Your mom wouldn’t want this for you.”

  His kisses get heavier, and I let it continue, because I do love him, and for two hours I honestly feared he wouldn’t come home. “I won’t do it again,” he whispers, his fingers undoing the clip in my hair. “I promise you. It’s the last time.”

  Chad’s sudden feather-soft touch pulled her back to the present.

  “Laila, please.” He said the words with so much longing, she wanted to melt and crawl into his arms, but that was the naïve Laila. The older, wiser Laila knew she had to put some distance between them.

  She stepped away, pulled open the screen door, and shoved her key into the lock. A second later, she was inside, the barrier she needed between them.

  He stared at her through the mesh, chest fallen. “I was wrong to just show up without warning. I realize that now.” Chad moved closer, and for a brief second she thought he might pull open the screen and force his way in, but he only placed a hand on the door frame. “When I left, it wasn’t because I didn’t love you. It was the opposite. I left because every day I saw the pain I caused. I left to save you, and believe me, it broke my heart.” His free hand gently touched the screen, his fingers tracing an imaginary line down her cheek. “You don’t have to forgive me, but please, at least give me the chance to tell you why I hope you will.”

  It wasn’t fair that she still loved the man in front of her. That she wanted to reach out and press her palm against his. That she still wanted to trust him.

  “If I agree to talk to you tomorrow, will you leave?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fine. I’ll meet you at the Sandwich Hut at one o’clock.” It was out of town. Away from prying eyes and from the memories he’d use to convince her to take him back.

  His green eyes shined like sea glass. “Thank you.”

  Laila shut the door and pressed her back against the wood.

  Chad was home. He was sober.

  She closed her eyes, and suddenly all she could feel was an empty, hollow echo of the life they once had.

  CHAPTER 11

  The trek to Cooper’s place was two miles long, lined with thick pine trees, a
nd one Chad had walked many times. His shoulder ached from his duffel, now hanging diagonally across his chest, but worse was the lingering pain inflicted when Laila had slammed her front door.

  He’d hated seeing the tears, but the emptiness was worse. He couldn’t read her. Not like before, when he’d had every facial expression memorized. Too much time had passed, and she’d changed. There was now anger and bitterness where there had once been only love and softness.

  Chad kicked a rock in front of him and cursed. He’d spent the last five days dreaming of this moment, sure that the minute she saw him, Laila would run into his arms. He’d been careful, responsible. Had done everything Mark had recommended before rushing home.

  Home.

  What a fool he had been. Nothing was the same.

  The house was smaller than he remembered. The trees were overgrown, the stairs weathered and cracked. The pothole at the front of the driveway could eat a Kia or two.

  It was his fault. He’d done this to her. He’d left her alone without any help.

  The trees broke at Cooper’s rusted mailbox, and he turned the corner, boots crunching the gravel beneath him. Chad didn’t know how his old friend would receive him. Chances were, he’d kick him to the curb as quickly as Laila had.

  The screen door opened, and Cooper stood there, still in his work uniform.

  “I guess my phone call worked.”

  “You knew it would.” Chad unhooked his bag, let it drop to the ground. “I don’t suppose you have any room in this place, do you?”

  Cooper stepped forward and hugged Chad without any of the lingering animosity he’d released on the phone. For a moment, they were brothers united by history and heartbreak. Who would have thought that when all the dust settled, Cooper would be the one standing by his side?

  His friend smacked his back twice and let go. “You stay here as long as you need to.”

  “Thanks, man.” His duffel felt lighter when he picked it up and stepped inside. The familiarity took him back in time, even though the place resembled a partial demolition zone. The bookshelves were empty. There were no pillows on the couch, and every strip of wallpaper had been torn and tugged without regard for appearance. Even the curtains had been ripped from the windows, leaving gaping holes in the drywall.