One More Time_A Second Chance Romance

by Rye Hart

I leaned down to kiss her, but she stepped back, putting some distance between us. Yep, there were the familiar walls I'd grown to hate so much. Just when I thought I'd torn them down for good, she managed to put thicker, sturdier ones in their place. It was a constant and never-ending battle with her.

  She stormed out of the bathroom and into her bedroom. I stood in the doorway looking at her as she collapsed into her bed, face first into a pillow and let out a muffled scream. The scream sounded angry, but it was quickly followed by the sound of choked sobs that caused her fragile little frame to tremble.

  Nothing in the world hurt as much as seeing someone you love crying. It broke me every single time. I just stood there, unsure of what to do. If I went to her, would I make things worse? Was I making things harder for her? If only she'd talk to me. If only she'd tell me what was going through her mind. Maybe even what I could do to make things better. To help bridge the gap between us.

  “Hannah, I don't know what you want me to do,” I said sheepishly.

  She didn't answer me.

  “Hannah?”

  “Go. Just – go. Leave me alone,” she whimpered.

  “You know I can't do that, Hannah,” I said softly.

  I moved toward her, taking gentle steps as if trying not to scare her away. She didn't move or look up, so I took that as a good sign. I sat down beside her and rubbed her back through the towel. Her sobbing stopped, but her body was still tense. Slowly, she turned her face to me, her eyes narrowed and glaring at me.

  “Just – leave me alone, Eli. We shouldn't have been together,” she said, closing her eyes as she spoke the words. “It was a mistake, and it can't happen again.”

  “Hannah, you don't really mean that,” I said, laying down beside her. “I know you better than anyone in the world, and if you didn't want to be with me, you would have kicked my ass. If you didn't want to sleep with me, you wouldn't have. You wanted this as much as I did – you want this thing between us as much as I do – and I'm not going to let you go that easily. You can't run away to Seattle and hide from me this time.”

  “Get out,” she said.

  She sat up in the bed, holding her towel in place and pushed against my chest, hard enough that I felt it.

  “Hannah, please –”

  “Get the hell out of my room, Eli,” she said, her voice colder than an Arctic wind. “Now.”

  Her eyes, rimmed red with tears, were filled with rage now, and there was no getting through to her. Not right now. I hated this shit. It was the same thing, every single time. As teenagers, she'd fuck me, we'd snuggle for hours and I'd fall for her – and the next day, she'd push me away. She'd always run back to her mother’s to hide from me, refuse to return my calls, refuse to speak to me until the next visit. Until the next time she wanted to fuck me.

  Every time she left though, she took a bit of my soul with her. She might not be able to run far now, not with a job at the local hospital and a lease on her apartment, but she could easily cut me out of her life. I wasn't sure I could handle that happening again.

  “Stop this,” I said, standing my ground.

  I grabbed her hand before she could push me away and studied her face seriously. The rage on her face mingled with pain, her expression one of exquisite misery. I knew she didn't hate me – she hated how she felt about me. It was one of those things I could never understand. It was more than just the fact that we were stepbrother and stepsister – it went deeper. Yet instead of telling me what it was, she continued to push me further and further away.

  Not this time.

  “I'm going to leave the room and give you your space, Hannah, but sooner or later, you're going to have to talk to me,” I demanded. “I'm sick and tired of this fucking game. You play it every goddamn time. I love you more than anyone else in this world, you hear me? You can try like hell, but you'll never push me away, not completely, and let's face it – you really don't want that anyway. We both know it.”

  I dropped her hand and stood up, pulling my pants on. I didn't dare look back at her because I knew what I'd see if I did. I'd see her crying and then I'd want to go to her, to comfort her. Just like I did every fucking time.

  But, that's not what she wanted. She wanted me to leave. At least right now, that's what she wanted. Later on, who the fuck knew? Her mood and attitude changed like the goddamn weather in the Midwest.

  But if Hannah wanted me to leave her alone, wanted me to let her wallow in her own little world of self-pity for a while, so be it. We'd talk later. It wasn't over. She was going to talk to me.

  She wasn't going to run back to her momma this time.

  Not if I had anything to say about it.

  Chapter Ten

  Hannah

  I sighed as I looked at the clock. I only had an hour before I had to be at work. I'd laid in bed all morning and hadn't stepped out of my room. Not even for a bite to eat. I was starving, but I did not want to face Eli right now. That was the last thing I wanted or needed now.

  I didn't want to deal with the questions, the feelings – everything that came with seeing him again. I thought the years apart would have dulled my desire for him. But, I'd been wrong. Dead wrong – and it was kicking my ass that I'd been so wrong.

  I finally pulled myself out of bed, and slowly opened the door to the living room.

  “Eli?” I said, speaking softly.

  I almost didn't want him to answer me. Yet, when he didn't answer, my heart sunk. I opened the door wider and stared out into a dark, empty living room beyond. Walking down the hallway, I saw that the crib was gone – as were all of Aubree's belongings. I walked toward the couch and saw that there was a note on the coffee table addressed to me, from Eli.

  It's clear you need your space. I'm giving it to you, hoping it'll help you clear your head. Thanks for all your help with Aubree, I think I can take it from here. I don't want to burden you anymore. If you want to talk, you know where to find me.

  It felt like a punch to the gut, but I read it over a few times, as if there might be some secret message or something I was missing. But, there wasn't. No hidden message. No secret meaning. He was gone. He went home and took the baby with him. My stepbrother, the man who swore he was simply not cut out for babies or fatherhood, was going to be the sole provider for an infant.

  So many different and powerful emotions rolled through me. Shock. Surprise. Hope for the future. While those were all mostly good, there was something else gnawing deep in my gut. A feeling I couldn't squash for anything in the world, even though I knew it was ridiculous.

  I was jealous.

  Not of Aubree, but of Shawna. I was freaking jealous of a dead woman and I couldn't do anything to stop that damn feeling. Tears welled in my eyes as the realization hit me, hard, and I felt guilty for feeling it. Shawna was dead. I was alive. What right did I have to be jealous of her? Eli hadn't loved her. He swore that even though he'd been with her, he'd always loved me. I had more than she had, and yet, she was the one to have his baby.

  I knew how childish, petty and selfish it was – which was exactly why I hadn't wanted to talk to Eli about it. I couldn't let him know what really bothered me, especially since nothing would change. He would still be Eli, a man with no idea what he wanted to do with his life. A man with no goals except to maybe get through the next month. No plans for the future. No kids. No white picket fences and backyards with swing sets for him. No little league or mini-vans.

  None of that was what he wanted, but it's what I wanted. I wanted it more than anything in the world. Well, except for maybe Eli himself.

  My two biggest wants in life didn't go together. They were like oil and water and I had to choose. I could either go after the boy and forgo all of those things I wanted. Those things I thought would make me feel happy and complete. Or I could go after those things and forgo the boy. Which, of course, would shatter something deep within me. Something I didn't think I'd ever be able to piece back together again.

  Which was why I had to stay
away from Eli. Because there was no way that being around him would have made things the least bit easier. I just kept getting more and more attached to him with every passing day. It was obvious, given the fact that we'd fallen back together like we'd never been apart to begin with. All because I couldn't stop falling into his arms.

  Well now, I had no choice. I wasn't going to run away again. For better or for worse, I was going to stay there in Yora and get to know my father. I was going to build my life there – with or without Eli. If it was going to be with him, there had to be clear, firm boundaries in place. He could be my stepbrother, but nothing more. As much as it pained me on some levels, it was how it had to be. For my own sake – and for his.

  I put the letter back down on the table and made a quick lunch before getting ready for work. I had a solid career and a lot going for me. I was still young and relatively attractive. If I got my head on straight, I could meet a good guy and still could have the dream family, one day. I was on the right track.

  I just had to stop sleeping with Eli. Easier said than done, of course, because he had to look like a frigging god. All jacked up like he was, and with those soulful brown eyes of his, he might have been the most beautiful man I'd ever laid eyes on.

  Fuck me but staying away from Eli just might be the hardest thing I've ever had to do.

  ***

  “We got another one,” Sarah said as I arrived at the hospital that night.

  “Another what?” I asked.

  “Overdose. This time, a fifteen-year-old boy,” Sarah said.

  Her eyes looked heavy and tired. Filled with sorrow. Her shift was coming to an end, but mine was only beginning and I felt like I'd been kicked in the gut already. I'd only been there five minutes, but it was already shaping up to be that kind of night.

  “His girlfriend's also here,” she said. “But, unlike him, she's awake and talking to us.”

  “Think he'll make it?”

  Sarah shrugged and wouldn't look me in the eyes. “Hard to say, but it's not looking good.”

  Dammit. “What's a fifteen-year old kid doing with heroin?” I muttered to myself. “He should be playing video games or football, or just hanging out with his friends – not overdosing on drugs.”

  “That's the world we live in, Hannah,” she said. “Sad, but true.”

  I was already in a shitty mood and having two kids in the ER with drug overdoses wasn't going to put me in a better one. I got caught up on all the patients – Trevor, the fifteen-year old boy – was on death's door. His girlfriend, a fifteen-year old girl named Nicki, was likely to going to be okay and would be heading home soon. That was a small blessing.

  At least she was going to make it, but God knew, most of the addicts ended up coming back through those doors to the ER sooner or later, and it was only a matter of time before she showed up on a slab too.

  I was standing to the side of the nurse's station, reading over a few of the charts and cursing under my breath, when a familiar voice said my name.

  “Hey, Hannah,” Chris said, his voice soft.

  It was comforting to hear a familiar voice right now, and I gave him a half-smile at least, to show that I appreciated his presence.

  “How are you tonight, Chris?”

  He shrugged. “Given that we have two kids who nearly died, I'd say I've been better.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I was going to go in and check on them here in a minute.”

  “The boy's still non-responsive,” he said, shaking his head.

  “I heard the girl's going to be okay.”

  Chris nodded. “Seems like it. She's awake and alert,” he said.

  “Did they tell you where they got the heroin?”

  He shook his head. “Nope,” he replied. “She's not being cooperative. Wouldn't give us a name.”

  “No offense, but in her place, I probably wouldn't want to talk to a cop either,” I said and gave him a crooked smile.

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, probably not.”

  We stared at one another for a long moment and I could have sworn I saw the light bulb go off over his head. A small grin touched his lips.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Well, you're going to talk to her, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said, not liking the direction this was headed. “It's part of my job.”

  “Well, maybe you can get her to talk,” he said. “Maybe she'll open up to you.”

  I shrugged. “I doubt it,” she said. “She'll probably still consider me an authority figure and won't want to talk.”

  “You never know until you try though, right?”

  I let out a long breath. “I suppose not.”

  “I'm not expecting you to work miracles here, Hannah,” he said. “But, if you can just get a name out of her – ”

  I held up my hand to stop him. “I'll see what I can do,” I said. “I'm not making you any promises.”

  A grateful smile crossed his face. “I know you're not,” he said. “I'm just grateful that you're willing to try.”

  “Hey, I want this drug scourge to end as bad as you do,” I said. “If we can get these poisoners off the street, I'll do what I can to help.”

  He nodded. “I appreciate it,” he said. “And as a gesture of my gratitude, how about I take you to dinner? We can compare notes?”

  A knot in my stomach constricted painfully. The last thing I wanted or needed was to be dating somebody at the moment. Dating anybody. Until I could get Eli out of my system entirely, once and for all, I wasn't going to be good for anybody. And nobody would be good for me.

  Still, maybe going out with somebody other than Eli, rather than sitting at home brooding all the time, could be good for me. It could be a disaster, of course, but it could also possibly be good. Still, I thought it best to start slow. Dip my toes into the water first, before diving in head first.

  “Dinner, huh?” I asked. “You're upping the ante from coffee, aren't you?”

  Chris held his hands up, a smile on his face. “Hey, we can do coffee instead,” he replied. “Just a casual conversation over a cup of coffee.”

  I let out a long breath. “I'll – think about it,” I said. “Again, I make no promises.”

  There was a sparkle in his eye and a broad smile on his face. Maybe because this was the first time he'd asked that I didn't give him a flat out, no. Maybe, he felt some little spark of hope that I'd actually consider dating him or something. Or maybe, I was letting my ego get the best of me.

  Suffice it to say, I was a hot mess, emotionally speaking.

  “Fair enough,” he said. “You have my number.”

  I nodded. “I do.”

  “Well, I hope you choose to use it.”

  I shrugged. “I might,” I said, the ghost of a smile touching my lips. “You just never know.”

  He turned and walked down the corridor, heading for the elevator, a little spring in his step. I laughed softly to myself and turned around, heading the other way. I checked on a couple of patients before stopping in the room of the fifteen-year old boy, Trevor. He was hooked up to a hundred different machines and tubes. He wasn't breathing on his own – a ventilator was doing the work for him.

  After reading his chart, I didn't have much hope that he was going to walk out of the hospital on his own. Ever.

  That dark feeling of dread and sorrow settled down over me again. It was times like that when I really hated my job. I hated not being able to save everybody. I took it personally. Which meant that when I wasn't able to save a life, it hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks.

  Seeing that boy all but dead already, broke my heart. A life wasted. Gone too soon. His was a life that could have been something great. Something special. He could have done amazing things had he not gotten mixed up with drugs and that lifestyle. But, because he had, because he'd chosen to stick a needle in his arm, we'd never know what he could have contributed to this world.

  I sighed, shook my head, and left the room. A few doors do
wn was his girlfriend. Nicki. When I stepped into the room, she looked up at me with wide, scared eyes. She was a pretty girl, though I could already see the drugs taking a toll on her. Nicki had long, dark hair and pale, alabaster colored skin. Her blue eyes were dull, like they'd lost some of their shine, and deep, dark circles were etched beneath them.

  She looked tired. Miserable.

  “Hey, Nicki,” I said when I stood beside her bed. “I'm Hannah.”

  “Hi,” she said, averting her gaze.

  She was sitting in the bed with her knees drawn up to her chest, the blanket tucked beneath her chin. It was like she was trying to hide, ready to pull the blankets up over her head at a moment's notice. Though only fifteen, seeing her sitting there like that, coupled with the terrified expression on her face, she looked a lot younger.

  “H – how's Trevor?” she asked, still not meeting my eyes.

  I let out a long breath, not sure how to answer. I flipped through her chart, more to buy myself time than anything. Obviously, nobody had told her about his condition and I was hesitant to say anything. She looked up at me though, her eyes shimmering with tears.

  “H – he's dead, isn't he?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

  I could lie to her or kick the can down the road by claiming ignorance and let somebody else deliver the bad news. Or, I could be honest with her and show her just how bad the consequences were for making the decision she and Trevor made to do drugs in the first place.

  Maybe, if she knew the very real consequences of her actions, felt the sting of loss, she'd think twice about sticking that needle in her arm next time. Or, maybe she wouldn't.

  “He's not doing well, Nicki,” I said.

  “What does that mean?”

  I fidgeted with the chart in my hand, not meeting her gaze. “I don't think he's going to make it, to be honest,” I said. “I could be wrong. I hope I'm wrong. But, seeing what I've seen, and having the experience I do, it's not looking good.”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks and she let out a choked sob. Nicki buried her face in her hands, her small body racked with sobs. She shook her head, trying to deny the reality of the situation she was in. Reaching out, I touched her arm gently and got her to lower her hands. She looked up at me through watery, tear-filled eyes.