No Second Chances

by Marissa Farrar

  Tears filled my eyes.

  “Don’t we deserve a second chance?” he asked, softly.

  I was close, so close to breaking down and letting him back into my heart, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

  I pressed my lips, not wanting to even look at him. “We don’t always get a second chance at things, Cole. Sometimes too much damage has been done. Take my leg, for example. I’ll never get a second chance at the life I’d thought I was going to live when I had both legs, and I can never go back to that life. Maybe our relationship is the same. Maybe too much damage was done for us ever to recover.”

  “Gabi …” he said, reaching for me.

  But I stepped away, shaking my head. “You know, I still remember exactly what you said to me in the school hall that day. I should—I must have replayed it a million times over in my head in the months that followed.”

  “Shit, Gabi. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s too late for sorry. It’s almost eleven damn years too late.” I knew he would wear me down. That he would say all the right things and I would melt into his arms. I couldn’t let myself do that. I wasn’t strong enough to fix myself again. “Please, Cole. Just go, and leave me alone.”

  He stared at me with pain and longing in his blue eyes, and my heart threatened to crack.

  “Now, Cole! I want you out of my life, for good this time.”

  His chin quivered and he balled his fists, and for a moment I thought he was going to say something else, but then he turned on his heel and slammed out of the house.

  I push the front door shut behind him and pressed my back against it. A keening sob escaped my throat and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears. I wasn’t strong enough. I’d never been strong enough. And the worst part of it was that my heart was breaking all over again, and this time it wasn’t even Cole’s fault.

  It seemed I was able to break my heart all by myself.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Cole – Present Day

  With my head reeling from Gabi’s rejection, I jumped in my car and took off. I was driving too fast, but I didn’t care. She still hated me for how I’d behaved when we were teenagers, still held every word I’d said to heart. I wished I could go back and change everything, but that was impossible. I’d hurt the girl who’d never deserved to have been hurt, and then life had come along and wounded her even more.

  I bunched my fist and punched the steering wheel. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

  With a final growl, I lifted both hands and slammed them back down again, barely keeping control of the car.

  Kissing her had felt so good—right, and perfect, and like I’d finally found my way home again after all this time. And then she had pushed me away and told me she’d never forgive me, and my moment of hope that we’d be able to start afresh shattered before my eyes.

  I was disappointed, yes, but most of all I was angry. Not at her, though, never with her. I was angry at myself for being so damn weak when I’d been eighteen. I should never have allowed myself to be led astray so easily. I should have grabbed Gabi back then, and taken her away from all of this. We would have created a life together by now. She would be whole and unharmed, and maybe we’d even have a couple of kids running around. Instead, she had an injury she would never recover from, and I’d wasted the last ten years behind bars.

  Damn. I needed a drink.

  Leaning forward over the steering wheel, I kept my eyes peeled for somewhere I could get one. Within a few minutes, I spotted a place on the outskirts of town, somewhere I doubted anyone would recognize me.

  I pulled into the parking lot and climbed out of the car. I headed into the bar and barely noticed my surroundings— the dim lighting, a couple of pool tables, and an old fashioned jukebox positioned against one wall. Behind the bar, a skinny woman in her forties, wearing a tight, strappy white top, gave me a smile as I walked in.

  “Hey, darlin’,” she drawled. “What’s your poison?”

  “Whiskey,” I told her, positioning my ass on the barstool. “Straight.”

  I threw a couple of twenties onto the bar and she glanced down at them. “I don’t know what kind of whiskey you think we serve here, but that’s way too much.”

  I picked up the glass and downed the shot, and then pushed the empty glass back toward her. “I’m not planning on having just the one.”

  My rented house wasn’t too far from here. I’d be able to leave the car and stagger back. I didn’t plan on getting hit with a DUI. With my record, it would send me straight back to prison.

  She refilled the glass, and this time I nursed it a little longer before I drained the contents. The alcohol was going to my head now, something I was pleased about. It helped to dull the intense hatred and self-loathing growing inside me. I wanted to think about something other than Gabi, but my brain didn’t want to let me. Every thought I had led back to her. I tried to focus on the plans I’d had when I’d been inside. I’d used my time to complete a four-year bachelor’s college degree in social work. I’d wanted to use my experiences, both from my time spent in the system, to the stupid mistakes I’d made, to help teach other kids like I’d been not to make the same mistakes. I’d even been allowed to mentor a nineteen-year-old since I’d been released, though things hadn’t been going so well for him. Drugs were even harder now than they’d been when I was a teenager, and this boy had gotten himself hooked on crack. I didn’t know if I’d be able to help him, but I’d wanted to try.

  Drowning in my thoughts, I lost track of time, the minutes slipping into hours.

  I’d finished my third whiskey and moved onto a fourth, or was I finishing my fourth and moving onto my fifth? I was losing count. This time I added a beer back to my order; it wasn’t as though the liquor was helping to quench my thirst. The barmaid tried to talk to me a couple of times, but my single word answers weren’t keeping her entertained, and so she moved onto a couple of older guys who were happy to flirt and laugh at her jokes.

  I was pretty damn drunk now, the bar blurring in front of me, the music swirling around my ears as though I was underwater.

  “Cole?”

  I turned to see a blonde woman standing behind me. She held a pool cue, and wore a tight green dress which hugged every curve. I frowned, not understanding how she knew my name, and then her identity dawned on me.

  “Taylor?”

  She smiled, revealing a flash of whitened teeth. “Yeah, hi. It’s been a while.”

  I was confused. “What are you doing here?”

  “My girlfriend was meeting a guy out here, and wanted me to come in case he turned out to be an asshole.”

  “And did he turn out to be an asshole?”

  “He didn’t show, so I’d say that would have to be yes.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “She’s not bothered. We’re happy just to have a girls’ night.”

  I looked over to where another woman was beside the pool table—curvy, with short dark hair. All the guys in the bar had their eyes focused on the two women. I didn’t think they’d be worrying about a date not showing for too long.

  “Well, it was good seeing you, Taylor,” I said, rising from my spot on the stool. I’d been there so long my ass cheeks were numb. “I’m heading home.”

  “No!” she said, reaching out to place her manicured fingers against my chest. “The night is young. We’ve not seen each other for years. Let me buy you a drink and we can catch up.”

  “Really, I need to be going.” I felt like I was getting drunker by the second, feeling slightly detached from the situation.

  “I saw Gabi the other day,” she said, her tone hitching with hope. “So sad what she’s going through.”

  My heart lurched. “You saw Gabi?”

  “Yeah, Jasmine and I went around for a coffee. I think she appreciated having some old friends around. Have you seen her?”

  Gabi. My kryptonite.

  “Did she mention me at all?” I couldn’t help myself.


  Taylor grinned. “I’ll get us that drink, shall I?”

  “Let me get them.” And I found myself back at the bar.

  We found a seat and talked about Gabi, about the awful thing that had happened to her, and how she was so brave and coping so well. After another drink or two—I had definitely lost track—we both opened up about how it was weird talking to her about her amputation, how we felt uncomfortable and guilty all at the same time. It was good to be able to talk about this stuff, but I could feel my tongue getting thicker, my words starting to slur. My eyelids were heavy, and I knew I needed to get home, though I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it. What had felt like an easy walk a few hours ago now seemed like an impossible task.

  “Sorry, Taylor,” I said, staggering to my feet. “This has been good, but I’ve got to go.”

  “How are you getting home?” she asked, blinking up at me with her wide, blue eyes. “You can’t drive.”

  “I know. I’ll walk.”

  “No, I’ll drive you. Just let me go and tell my friend I’m taking you home.”

  I glanced over at her friend who was now cuddled up to a guy, sitting on his lap while she giggled at his jokes. I just wanted to crawl into bed and go to sleep. “Okay, sure.”

  I got up from the chair and swayed, using my hand on the table top to keep me upright. Taylor laughed, “You okay, there, big guy?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  I managed to find my balance, and Taylor took hold of my arm to help me keep it. Together, we stumbled from the bar, and she led me toward what I assumed was her car. A booster seat was in the back, a DVD player screen attached to the back of the headrest.

  I frowned. “You got a kid?”

  She smiled, “Yeah, a boy. He’s seven now. My mom is watching him while I have some time to myself.”

  “Oh, right.”

  I managed to get into the passenger seat and give Taylor my address. “I know it,” she said. “We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  The car engine started, the sound, vibration, and movement of the car lulling me into a drunken sleep. I sat with my head against the passenger window, bumping it slightly every time we went over a pothole. My drunk, half-dreaming thoughts went back to Gabi. I’d call her as soon as I got in, I decided. I’d tell her I still loved her, and that we needed to start over. I saw her face in my mind, laughing and smiling at me. I remembered our kiss, the taste of her tongue moving against mine. I thought of when we’d been teenagers, of the hours we’d spend making out on her bed, how I could have spent forever buried between her thighs ...

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Cole – Eleven Years Earlier

  “So I was thinking,” I said, as I caught Gabi’s hand from behind as she walked up the corridor.

  She jumped at my touch. “Jeez, Cole, you just about gave me a heart attack.” But she smiled at me, that big, wide smile that crinkled her brown eyes, the smile I’d grown to adore, and I felt like I’d been punched by the force of my feelings for her.

  I grinned. “Sorry, but anyway, I was thinking that me and the guys are going to be jamming tonight, and I’d really love you to come.”

  She pulled me to a halt, the smile fading from her face. “I don’t know, Cole. I’m not sure the rest of your band will want me there.”

  “Don’t be silly. Why would they not want you there? They always have other people around when we’re playing—in fact, I think some of their friends are coming tonight as well, so it’ll practically be a party. It would feel weird without you.”

  She hesitated, and I could see she was thinking about it.

  I positioned my body in front of hers. “You should probably know that I am prepared to get down on my knees and beg, if that’s what it takes.”

  Her cheeks flushed and she glanced at all the other students moving in every direction around us. “You wouldn’t?”

  I gave her a wink. “Try me.”

  “Okay, okay,” she said, giving me a little shove to get me moving again. “I’ll come, but if it’s weird, I won’t stay for long.”

  “It won’t be weird, I promise. We’ll have fun.”

  ***

  I knew I was back in peacock-mode, wanting to perform in front of her, hoping to impress her, but I couldn’t help myself. Impressing Gabi had suddenly become of number one importance in my life. I messed around with my kit, keeping an eye on the front of the garage, waiting for her to show. I worried she’d change her mind, but then she appeared, wearing a summer dress with the type of short skirt that showed off her beautiful legs, and I jumped up and ran over to her.

  “Hey, you made it,” I said, dropping a kiss to her lips.

  “Sure. I said I’d come.” She peeped over my shoulder to where the guys were tuning their guitars. A couple of other people hung out on beanbags in the corner, laughing with their heads together, but they were Ryan’s friends and I didn’t know them.

  “Hey, Gabi,” Ryan called over to her.

  Gabi gave a reserved smile and lifted her chin in a greeting, but didn’t say anything.

  “You ready to get started, Cole?” he asked me.

  “Sure.”

  We started to play, a couple of covers first, and then one of our own songs. I noticed Ryan’s friends had gravitated toward Gabi, and I was pleased to see her exchanging words with them. She still didn’t look completely comfortable, but she didn’t appear quite as uneasy as she had when she’d walked in.

  Eventually, we took a break, and some of the guys headed out back for a smoke. Ryan passed a bottle of something around—a brown paper bag disguised its contents—and when it reached Gabi, she looked between the older guys and took it. I opened my mouth to say something and then shut it again. I’d had a few drinks plenty of times, and I knew she’d kill me if I said something about her not being old enough in front of everyone. Plus, I’d be a total hypocrite if I did. Anyway, Gabi was as sensible as they came. I figured she knew her limits.

  Gabi took a swing from the bottle, and grimaced as she swallowed. I didn’t know if it was beer or wine, or something stronger, but she didn’t cough or splutter. Instead, she handed it to the girl next to her, and carried on chatting. Perhaps her having a drink or two wasn’t a bad thing. It might make her enjoy herself more, and I wanted her to enjoy herself. I wanted her to be a part of the thing I loved doing, and if it took a couple of swings of booze to do it, then it was no big deal. Gabi wasn’t a child, and she was more than capable of deciding whether or not to have a drink.

  Despite this, I kept an eye on her while the band started up again.

  The bottle was still being passed around, and she took a drink every time it reached her. Her laugh grew louder, and she kept touching the arm of whoever she was talking to. Admittedly, I had promised her a party, and it was Saturday the next day, so at least she didn’t need to worry about going to school, but I still didn’t want her getting completely trashed.

  We played a few more songs, and then took a break for the guys to go out and smoke some weed. I knew this normally meant the end of practice, as they’d end up getting too wasted to bother playing again, so I took the opportunity to whisk Gabi out of the way.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, as I pulled her out of the front of the garage, and away from Ryan and the guys.

  “I’m going to take you home,” I said.

  Her lower lip pouted. “Aww, and I was having fun!”

  “I know, but it’s getting late.”

  I thought she might give me a fight about it, but instead she wrapped her hand around my waist and tucked in under my arm. I liked how we fitted together like this—two pieces of one whole.

  “Bye!” she yelled to the people we were leaving behind, though no one paid us any attention. “They were really nice,” she said, and then giggled. I couldn’t help smiling with her. Drunk Gabi was actually kind of cute.

  I kept my arm around her as we walked toward her house, her giggling and falling against me so I had to half
hold her up.

  “Do you want to know a secret?” she said as we walked.

  I glanced down at her, wondering what she was going to say. “Sure.”

  “You can’t tell anyone. You super, extra promise?”

  “I promise.”

  “No, you super, extra promise.”

  I laughed and repeated her words.

  “I love you,” she said, jabbing me in the chest with her finger. “I really, truly, properly am in love with you. I mean, it’s like you’ve taken over my mind or something,” I noticed she was slurring, “because I seriously cannot stop thinking about you for even one second of the day.”

  I held back my grin—I didn’t want her to think I was laughing at her confession, though the thought of it did make me smile. “I love you, too, Gabi.”

  “Nope. You’re only saying that ’cause I said it first.”

  “Well, I would have preferred you to say it when you were able to stand up straight, but that doesn’t mean I don’t believe you.”

  “’Cause you just know, don’t you?” she said. “We don’t even have to say it. You can just tell. Like when you look at me, it’s like the most intense thing in the world, and I know you’re thinking exactly the same as what I’m thinking.”

  “And what’s that?”

  She smacked me on the chest this time. “That I love you, dummy.”

  The bubble of happiness swelling inside of me needed to get out and I swung her into a hug, kissing her neck and swinging her off her feet.

  I set her down again, and she pressed her fingers to her mouth. “That kind of made me sick.”

  “Oh, shit, sorry.”

  But she managed to hold it together, and even her nausea didn’t dampen my joy. I didn’t think anyone had ever said that to me before. No, I knew no one had ever said those words to me. Having someone tell you they loved you wasn’t something you ever forgot.