My One Regret (Martin Family Book 3)

by St. James, Brooke

  I was sort of mad at him for improving himself so much since I'd been gone. If he had stayed just the way he was when I left, I wouldn't hesitate to go after him, but as it stood, I felt wrong for even thinking about it—like people would think I only wanted him because he wrote a hit book and he grew up to be a handsome man who wore tailored clothes. I was just about to say something to myself regarding the fact that I couldn't stay in the bathroom all night, but before I did, one of the stalls opened and a lady came to stand next to me.

  "I caught that song," the lady, a middle-aged woman with her hair in a French-twist said to me.

  I glanced at her with a smile.

  "You've got a beautiful voice," she said.

  "Thank you." I turned on the sink and got my hands wet so it wouldn't seem like I was standing there, which I clearly was.

  "I saw you when you sang with a band one time. It was you and that other girl."

  I nodded. "Claire's here tonight," I said. "I should have made her come up there with me."

  I dried my hands and told the lady to enjoy her evening before heading back into the restaurant. She returned the sentiment, and I walked out, smiling at her from over my shoulder.

  "Oh, hey!" a girl's voice said when I opened the door. At first, it didn't register that the girl was the same one who had come with Ryan. When I heard, "Oh, hey," I assumed it was Claire, so I was stunned speechless when the stark realization hit me that it was Britney (or some other girl who was Ryan's date). "That song was great," she said, as if we were old friends. "I'm sorry we only caught the last bit of it."

  "Oh, thank you," I said, since I could think of nothing else.

  We were standing in the doorway, and had to move to the side so someone could come in. I smiled and let the door fall onto her hand, assuming that our conversation was over and we were going our separate ways, but she stepped out into the hallway with me as if she didn't think we were done.

  "My boyfriend was telling me about you when we first came in," she said. "Y'all used to be in a band together."

  I honest-to-goodness felt like I was having heart trouble—palpitations were definitely happening. There was a searing, burning sensation shooting through my chest. Boyfriend, really? And only two seconds into our conversation. What was worse was that it was like I was looking in a mirror. The girl had dark hair and eyes, and she even had some of my same features. I scanned her face, feeling like I was in some sort of nightmare.

  "I'm a singer, too," she said smiling from ear to ear.

  There was an extended pause before I could manage to say, "Oh, really?"

  She nodded. "Not like you," she said like I was really something. "But I do praise and worship at our church."

  Again, the stabbing sensation happened in my chest. I felt dizzy and disoriented as I stood there and stared at her. It was like I was looking at the decent version of myself… the one who was smart enough to choose Ryan instead of that bum.

  "I've never tried any jazz," she continued. "Ryan's always trying to show me some jazz songs." She laughed and shook her head. "He's actually mentioned liking that one you just sang."

  The searing sensation in my chest was unexplainable at this point. I just smiled at her even though I felt like I might pass smack-dab out.

  "Ryan's a great guy," I said in a tone that meant I was ready to get back to my table.

  "Oh, he just loves you," she said. "That's why I'm so excited to meet you. He's told me so many stories about his college friends. I feel like I know you, practically."

  "I'm sorry, what's your name?" I asked.

  "Oh my goodness, how rude of me," she said sticking her hand out. She put a death grip on my hand and smiled excitedly, looking me in the eye. "My name's Britney Caldwell. Same family from the Caldwell and Ferguson Law Firm. My dad's a lawyer, and I'm following in his footsteps."

  Was she running for mayor or something? "Hey Britney," I said. "Nice to meet you. I'm Wynn."

  "Oh, I know," she said. "The famous Wynn Martin. Ryan told me all about you." Her eyes widened and she smiled excitedly. "You have to come by the table."

  "Oh, I don't know—"

  "You have to," she said. "I know Ryan would love to see you."

  "I might stop by there if I see y'all," I said, in a dazed surreal tone of voice that matched my mental state. I really wanted to hate this girl, and she was making it impossible.

  "I need to use the ladies room, or I'd show you where we're sitting," she said. "I'm sure you can find Ryan, though. He'd really love it if you stopped by the table. I can show you where we're sitting if you want to wait just a minute."

  I shook my head and smiled. "I'll look for him," I said even though I knew exactly where he was sitting.

  And then she did the unthinkable. She reached out and hugged me. Why, God? I thought, as I hugged her back.

  "I'm so happy to finally meet you," she said.

  "Same here," I said with a spaced-out smile as I headed in any direction but the way she was going.

  "What in the world was that?" I whispered inaudibly as I walked into the restaurant. I had no plan. I honestly didn't know whether I would stop and talk to Ryan or walk straight back to my own table.

  My mind was made up the instant I saw him. I rounded the corner, looked in his direction, and our eyes met. He had obviously been watching the hallway, because He was looking straight at me when I turned the corner.

  There was no question in my mind; I was going to him. I had no other choice. It was like I was being drawn toward him by magnetic force. I did not take my eyes off him the entire time I walked. The sight of him reminded me of home in so many ways. He smiled and stood up when I approached, taking me into his arms for a hug.

  He felt so different than I remembered. When I left, he could've been described as skinny, and now his chest and arms were filled out like a real man. Even his face and neck were thicker, and he had some stubble lining his chin and jaw. He had on a starched, button down shirt, looking like he just walked off of a J. Crew ad.

  I pulled back, smiling at him as I looked him over. My eyes roamed over his whole face and upper body before I made eye contact with him again.

  To my own horror, "You smell good," was the first thing I said to him.

  "So do you," he said.

  He smiled and gestured for me to sit across from him at the booth so we could get out of the way of the wait staff, and I did just that.

  "I met your g-irl-friend," I said, almost choking on that word as it left my mouth. I seriously had a hard time getting it out, which made Ryan smile. He was confident and unattached, nothing like the same guy who stared longingly at me the night I left.

  I was completely out-of-it with nerves and fear, so I said something I would have never normally said.

  "I guess you don't think of me anymore."

  I regretted it even before it was completely out of my mouth, but I couldn't stop it.

  Ryan stared at me from across the table. His smile faded, and he continued to look at me with an unreadable expression. It seemed as if he could see straight through me, right into my soul. "I wouldn't say that," he said.

  I smiled nervously and glanced at the table.

  "I'm glad we came in time to hear you sing," he said. "You think you might do another one with them?"

  My eyes met his, and I shook my head. "No, I wasn't even planning on doing that one. Chris just called me up."

  "I heard you were doing well in Austin," he said.

  "I'm here now," I said. "I just came back a couple weeks ago." I gave him a melancholy smile that made him shoot me a curious glance. "I heard about your book," I continued.

  He smiled and shook his head. "It's amazing. I never expected it to get this kind of reception."

  "I did," I said. I could see from a glance toward the ladies room that Britney was headed our way and would soon be close enough to hear our conversation. "I was thinking about you before I knew you got famous or had a girlfriend. I'm probably not as good as her, a
nd I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I do love you, Ryan."

  I spoke really quickly and basically mumbled that whole last part because Britney was really close to us by that point.

  Ryan regarded me with an intense, curious expression, leaning in to try to hear what I was saying.

  "Oh, I'm so glad you came by!" she said. She stood next to me, waiting for me to slide out of her seat so she could sit down.

  "You probably wouldn't be if you knew how I feel, but that's okay, I did it anyway, and it's all good. It was great to meet you, and great to see you again, Ryan. This is great, it's not even weird or anything, I should get back to the table because Claire and a bunch of other people and guys are over there, lots of guys." I paused my nervous rambling run-on sentence and gestured in a circling motion indicating both of them. "I hope this is fun," I said. "I hope you two have fun." I smiled and waved as I turned to head to my table, knowing I had done enough to come across as a crazy-person.

  Britney just stared up at me lovingly like she thought I was brave and cool for being so weird. It was literally impossible to hate her. I glanced at Ryan with a regretful expression and mouthed the word, "Sorry," before I started back to my table.

  He was wearing that same confused expression when I turned to walk away.

  "How'd that go?" Claire asked, when I made it back to the table.

  "I saw Ryan," I said with a wide-eyed expression.

  Claire had no idea how extensive my regrets were, so to her, it wasn't that big of a deal.

  "You sounded amazing up there!" she said, already moving on to the next topic.

  Several people at the table agreed with her, saying different things about the song choice or the way I performed it.

  I thanked them all as graciously as I could, but I was still having a bit of an out-of-body experience that made me slower to react and answer questions than usual.

  "She looks just like me and she sings," I said where only Claire could hear.

  She glanced at me. "Who?"

  "That girl. Britney."

  "She sings? What's that about? Is that how he met her?"

  "I don't know," I said. "I didn't ask them that. I don't really care to know how they met. She said she sings at church. I rattled off a bunch of stuff that probably made it seem like I was in love with Ryan."

  "Did you start talking fancy, Shakespeare?" she asked, nudging me.

  I shook my head as I stared at the table. "No. I'm pretty sure I didn't even make any sense. I think I told her she shouldn't be glad I stopped by her table." I sank my head into my hands. "And I liked her," I added, helplessly. "She was really nice, and she complimented me and stuff."

  "Are you in love with Ryan?" Claire asked, putting her hand on my back as I leaned forward.

  My head whipped up to look at her. "What, me, Ryan? No, I'm, Ryan is, uh, Ryan's… it really doesn't matter." I paused and shook my head a little. "I probably just regret how everything turned out in Austin."

  "It doesn't really help that he's so cute now," she said, gesturing to Ryan's table.

  "I could have had that," I said sadly. "That could have been me over there with him."

  Claire leaned over to look at me, seeming genuinely surprised that I was so bent out of shape. "You still can have that," she said as if I was being silly for even worrying about it. "Ryan's been in love with you from day one. All you have to do is give him the word, and he'd drop her."

  I gave her a little smile for trying to make me feel better.

  "I'm serious," she said, nudging me. "You're Ryan's ultimate—his dream."

  "I'm hardly deserving of that title anymore… especially in light of my stunning and worthy adversary, who's evidently an angel and has a voice to match."

  "Okay Shakespeare," she said, leaning into me as she giggled.

  Chapter 11

  Ryan

  Ryan Collins had been busy. He went to Philadelphia and got his doctorate in history, and somewhere in the process, he wrote a novel that became a best seller and was now being turned into a television mini-series. It was scheduled to begin production soon and would air on NBC within the next two years.

  His book was a mostly-accurate portrayal of two men's lives in the Civil War. He had studied them both and found that he identified with each of them for different reasons, which, in all probability, was the reason his work turned out to be so compelling.

  One of them was a slave who had been separated from his family. He lost his one true love and it was years before they got reunited. Ryan's own story wasn't quite as dramatic. He was never taken from his family or forced into a life of slavery. He was never chained, nor whipped. He had, however, lost a love, so the words written from his hero's perspective were honest and heartfelt. Ryan had never been held captive and forced to work. He had never faced many of the hardships of the men in his book, but he knew the feeling of heartache. He knew how to describe the pain of knowing your true love is out there somewhere and you can't have her. His own feelings on the subject spilled out onto his pages, and his work struck a chord with readers.

  He also told the story of a Confederate soldier. He told how the two men's lives intersected and how they unwittingly impacted each other. The accounts given in the book were mostly true. Ryan did countless hours of research so that he could tell their stories with accuracy and careful detail. He had accounts of their history and their whereabouts during the war, but he did have to do some improvisation when it came to describing their emotions, and this was what set his work apart from that of his colleagues.

  He may not have been so successful at it if he wasn't fresh off a broken heart when he went to UPenn, but he was, and apparently, it worked in his favor.

  Ryan Collins literally stopped breathing when he saw the source of that broken heart standing on the stage of Jackie B's when he walked in that Saturday night.

  There she was.

  Wynn Martin.

  She was singing, and her voice called to him like an all-entrancing Siren. He could hardly stand to look at her, but he also couldn’t look anywhere else. They locked eyes. He felt a sensation in his chest like his heart had leapt right out and was crossing the room so it could be closer to her. He was marveling at the empty feeling in his own chest when his girlfriend elbowed him.

  He realized they should be following the hostess, but he couldn't make himself move. "Just a second," he said to the hostess before turning to Britney. "We can go somewhere else if you want," he said.

  "Why?"

  "I didn't know Wynn's band was playing tonight," he said with a little gesture toward the stage. "It's gonna be packed. Service will probably be slow."

  "Oh, is that Wynn?" Britney asked. She glanced at the stage, but Ryan didn't. He couldn't. "I don't care if it's packed," she said with a shrug. "It looks just like it did last time we were here." She nudged him. "Plus, you probably want to catch up with your friend. Maybe she'll invite you up on stage to play drums for old time's sake."

  Ryan let out a nervous laugh as they followed the hostess to their table. He tried to tune out the sound of Wynn's voice, but it was completely useless. Listening to it was utterly torturous. He had wondered countless times in the past why God would make something that tempted him so much if He wouldn't just go ahead and give it to him. He had cold sweats, trying but failing to ignore the sound as he and Britney got situated at their table.

  He had never been so relieved in his life than he was when the song finished. He would not have been able to handle a whole set of listening to her—he would have had to fake an injury or something. Everyone clapped, and the piano player thanked Wynn for coming up. Ryan let out a relived sigh as she left the stage.

  He and Britney ordered drinks, and talked to their server for a minute, but she went to use the restroom not long after they sat down. He had seen Wynn head in that direction, and he wondered if the two women would run into each other.

  He was looking in that direction when Wynn came around the corner. Her eye
s locked with his, and she crossed the restaurant, headed directly for his table. He stood and took her into his arms, but both of them broke contact after an initial squeeze. He asked her to sit so they wouldn't be standing in the middle of the aisle, and she agreed, taking the spot across from him.

  They shared a little back and forth where she asked about his book and told him she had just moved back from Austin. The next part was all really rushed, but they had an exchange where Wynn said a bunch of words all in a row. She seemed nervous and in a hurry, but Ryan couldn’t help but get the idea that she was sad. He could have sworn she said something about regretting the way things ended with the two of them, but he had been wanting to hear those words for so long, that he talked himself into thinking he just heard what he wanted her to say.

  "I was thinking about you before I knew you were famous or had a girlfriend," was the phrase she said that stayed with him. The rest of it was delivered in such a hurry that he didn't even really catch it. He was almost sure Wynn was saying she wanted him, which seemed unreal and unlikely after all this time. He even swore he heard her say, "I love you," near the end of her ramblings, which only proved how desperate he still was to hear it.

  Then, Britney walked up, and Wynn stood up and said a bunch of other stuff that was rushed and jumbled.

  Britney was staring at Ryan with wide eyes when Wynn walked away. "That was interesting," she said, shrugging it off as she glanced down at the menu.

  Ryan turned and saw that Wynn was headed to a booth in the corner of the room. "She's funny," he said. He had countless other descriptive words for Wynn that would have been far better suited for her (lovely, amazing, brilliant), but he thought funny was a safe choice.

  "I saw her in the restroom so I told her to come over here," Britney said, still looking down at the menu.

  They sat there for a few minutes, but Ryan couldn’t stop wondering what Wynn said. He tried to remember back and put the pieces together, but he only caught part of what she was saying. There was no mistaking the look in her eyes, though. She was stressed, and tortured, and hopeful all at the same time, and he had to know more about what she was feeling. He couldn't let her just walk away like that.