Lasting Fate

by Charisse Spiers

  I walk into the room and around the foot of the bed until I'm standing on the other side. There is a decorative chair in the corner that I pull over to the edge of the bed. I take a seat and grasp her hand in mine. She is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Her breathing is even and her features are relaxed, giving her a look of peacefulness and contentment.

  I begin rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand, watching her sleep. She begins to move and stretch, fluttering her eyelids until her freckled green eyes are staring at me. "Preston, what are you doing? Is Bryce okay?" My heart picks up speed hearing her sound an octave above dead, even though she still doesn't sound like herself.

  "Hey, Kinz. He's fine. I just need to talk to you for a minute. I have something important to tell you." She pulls her hand free and places her palms flat against the mattress, pushing herself into a sitting position and scooting against the headboard.

  "What is it?"

  "Kinz, I'm letting you go. Your heart doesn't want to be here, it doesn't want me." Her face takes on a saddened look, and that kills me even more. My eyes cloud, but I clear them, because I'll never make it out otherwise. This is best for her. I clear my throat trying to contain my emotions.

  "Preston..."

  "Let me finish. I know you love me, I do, but you're not in love with me. My love for you blinded me, causing me to overlook the most important thing: what your heart wanted."

  I lean forward, placing my forearms to my thighs. I look down at the sheets so I can say this. "I will always love you, Kinz. You will always be the girl I chose first, the girl I'd do anything for. I want you to know not a day will go by that my heart won't falter when I think of you or Bryce, but your heart is bound to another, and that's the one thing I can't control. I tried."

  I look up and tears are streaming down her face. I hate seeing her cry. It's always been my kryptonite. She changes position onto her knees at the edge of the bed, so she can be closer to me. "Preston, stop being crazy. I made you a promise and I'm not breaking it. That means something..."

  I place my hand on the side of her face as I stand. "I know you won't, beautiful. That's why I am. I'm walking away from you, Kinzleigh, but I want you to know it's the fucking hardest thing I've ever had to do."

  Her eyes turn downcast, no longer holding any emotions back, but I tilt her face to look back at me. "Hey, you can't fight fate, right? Isn't that what this is, giving in to what's supposed to be the outcome? We can't control our destiny. It will catch up with us at some point, so I might as well just surrender now before I'm in any deeper, yeah?"

  Everything I say is a lie, but it's the only way to make her let go and stop being miserable. I don't believe the words coming out of my own mouth, but making it into a joke is the only way to keep my sanity in tact. I will always control my own life. No one or nothing controls me.

  "Preston, I'm sorry. I'll do better by you. I've been a shitty fiancé. Don't do this. I love you. You're the one I chose." She is fisting my shirt in her hand, attempting to pull me to her. I want to give in. I want to hold her and tell her I'll be here forever, but that's the selfish thing to do. I promised her I'd always do what's best for her and this isn't it. She'll always be half alive as long as he's here.

  I press my lips to hers one last time and allow myself one last taste. She kisses me back, but I stop. I look deep into those clover green eyes, pointing out her speckles to distract me. "You could never be a shitty anything. You deserve happiness, Kinz, and I will stop at nothing to give it to you, even when it comes to sacrificing my own. I have to go out of town for a while, but I'm sure you'll be gone when I return."

  I begin to pull away and she clings on tighter. "Preston...stop." Her voice is drained and distraught. I have to get out of here before I revoke everything I've just worked so hard to do. "Bye, Kinz. I love you. I always have, and I always will. Go back to him. Don't make me do this in vain."

  I grab her by the wrists, shucking her hands from my clothing. I turn and walk quickly to the door. Her crying gets louder the further I get. "Don't leave me! Please, don't leave me," she screams over and over. I sprint down the stairs, passing Macie with Bryce in her arms. I stop, but only briefly.

  "Are you okay," she asks.

  "I'm not, but I will be," I respond honestly. "Breyson will be here by later today or at the latest tomorrow. Stay with her until she leaves, then I will give you your next assignment. Call me when it’s done.”

  She nods, knowing I won't talk about it from this point forward. I will bear my own shit. I look down at Bryce. His Gray eyes are open. I rub my palm over his thin layer of blonde hair and kiss his forehead. "Hey, buddy. I'll be gone for a little while. You're going to be with your daddy and mommy. They need some time with you together. When the dust settles, Uncle Preston will come see you, okay?"

  He starts to whine at the sound of my voice, a voice he's become familiar with. I want to pick him up, to make him understand that I'm not leaving him, and that it's killing me to give away what is my family, but I have to leave until I can get my shit together. Then, I will come for him and spend the rest of my life making up for the time I was gone, even if I have to make a biweekly fly in to Mississippi for the weekend. He is and will always be my little man.

  I look up at Macie one last time before I go. "Take care of my little man, got it?" She nods again and I walk in the direction of the door, leaving everything I want in life behind. I am done for. No more relationships. This was it for me. I gave it a try and got burned. My heart is ripped in two and forever that way it will stay, to remind me that although the time I had was beautiful, it didn't last.

  I've already arranged everything at the office. I'm heading to Greece early. It's time to move on. It's going to take time to move on from her, and something I will have to do away from here. I just wish I didn't feel like a corpse inside. First stop on my list, a bar. I need something and that something needs to be strong. I need to drown the way I feel inside. Hearing her beg has gutted me. That vision is not going to be easy to bury.

  Kinzleigh

  I feel like I'm hyperventilating. I can't breathe. I'm the worst possible person in the world. I can't get anything right no matter how hard I try. What kind of a person loves two men? No matter which direction I choose someone gets hurt. Knowing I am hurting either of them hurts me in return. I have no idea how I got in this situation. I have never once in my life seen Preston like I just saw him.

  I consider everything he said. What does he mean he's letting me go? I don't understand and it's making me panic. I already chose. I chose him. Now where am I supposed to go? I can't just waltz up to Breyson's door and expect him to want me back. I chose another man over him. That doesn't even include the fact that I told myself and everyone else I would let him go live a full and happy life, free from the burden of me. I always make such a mess of things.

  It's been at least twenty minutes and Preston hasn't come back. I thought he would come back. He's not coming back. If I do know anything about Preston, it's that when he makes a decision he sticks with it. I sit back on the bed, pulling my knees to my chest with my arms wrapped around them. My face is soaked, but it doesn't stop the tears from coming.

  I stare off at the wall in front of me, beginning to zone out like I have been since I left Breyson standing at the hospital. I can't describe it. I feel as if I'm alive, but completely out of touch with reality. All I want to do is sleep and recluse into myself. It doesn't even take notice most of the time that Macie is here caring for my child, the child I can't bear to touch. Each time I look at his face I see Breyson. Every day he looks more and more like him. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to if his eyes turn blue as well.

  My mind is turning against me and my heart is dying slowly, suffering, and beating slower with each breath. The pain is so immense that I almost can't bear it. My soul feels like it is leaving my body like a vapor in the wind. I thought this would be easy, but now I'm so far gone I don't know how to fix myself. I feel like I'm falling in
to a dark hole, and any minute the opening is going to close, forever trapping me inside.

  I just wanted to give Breyson back everything he's lost since February. I wanted him to live a full life, but instead I've become a horrible mother and an even worse person.

  A knock sounds at my door. I don't answer. I can't take care of him. I can't hold him. I don't even want to look at him; another knock, but I remain quiet. "Kinz, it's me, Macie. May I come in? Bryce is asleep in his crib."

  I release the breath I wasn't even aware I was holding and begin to relax. The fact that this behavior isn't scaring me should be setting off alarms mentally, but nothing registers. I watch as the handle slowly turns and the door inches open. I tighten the hold around my legs and rest my chin on the crevice formed between my knees. The first thing I notice is a section of long, brown, wavy hair that falls through the crack of the door, followed by a head.

  Macie looks at the bed. I'm sure to see if I'm asleep. When she notices me awake she walks the rest of the way inside. "Do you want to talk about it?"

  I shake my head as she walks in the direction of the bed. "You'd be surprised at how much it may help. You forget that I've been where you are."

  "What, a horrible mother? A heartless person? A stupid teenager in love with two different men? I don't think so, Macie. Last time I checked you were a pretty damn good mother, still mourning the loss of one man that has been gone for five years." My words are clipped, making me feel like an even worse person.

  "You're sick, Kinzleigh. You aren't a bad mother at all, but you do need to seek help. This is something you can't defeat on your own. Everything has built up on you all at once and your hormones and levels have gotten messed up." She sits on the bed and wraps her hand around the back of mine.

  I can't blame being a bad person on a mental sickness. That's just crazy. I've somehow gotten myself into this mess, falling deeper and deeper with every given day. "That has nothing to do with loving and wanting two men. That has nothing to do with the fact I can't even look at my baby. I should want him! Why don't I want him," I ask, now whispering instead of screaming. I begin crying again as the words come out of my mouth.

  "You're sick," she says again. "It takes one that's experienced it to recognize the symptoms in someone else. It's not you that doesn't want Bryce it's your brain tricking you, because it's confused. As for the other situation, I think you love Preston more because he took care of you when you were down, and you became attached to him since y'all were always close. If you ask me you're only in love with Breyson, you just need to be reminded, but hey, I'm just an outsider looking in.

  Why is everyone telling me they know what is wrong with me and what is best for me? No one knows, not even myself. What's best for two people doesn't always intertwine. Even if I thought I was good for Breyson, he wouldn't take me back now anyway. I just want to be by myself right now. "I'm sorry, Macie. I need to go. I have to go."

  I stand and run towards the door, never looking back. I'm so sick of everyone acting as if they know what I'm going through. No one knows how this feels. I just lost my best friend of almost nineteen years and the love of my life is across the country, because I'm too stupid to let myself have him. I have a baby that I can't even look at, because every time I do I feel like I'm being stabbed in the heart with a serrated edge.

  The thought of not wanting anything to do with my own baby just causes me to cry harder. I want to want him, but I don't. Maybe I wasn't prepared for this. I can't do it. He isn't going to thrive with me. I wasn't made to be a mother. Maybe I should give him to Breyson and just disappear. That would be best for everyone.

  I'm running so fast that I trip on one of the steps and go tumbling down the staircase, landing at the bottom. A shooting pain starts in my ankle. I hear Macie walking down the hallway, so I get up and hobble in pain until I reach the garage door.

  The keys to my new BMW SUV are hanging on the key ring beside the door. It was a baby and engagement gift, since my parents haven't transported my Range Rover yet. I grab them in a hurry and continue to the car barefooted. I can barely see in front of me with the tears pouring out of my eyes. I shouldn't be driving in this condition, but I can't find the will to care. The only person that could get hurt is me. My life doesn't really matter. Honestly, people would probably be better off without me. I've become nothing but a complication to everyone.

  I get behind the wheel and shut the door, pressing the button on the garage remote that is clipped on my sun visor. Before a single thought can pass through my mind, I back out and leave everything I've known since May in the rearview mirror. I have no idea where I'm going to go, but anywhere will suffice. I press harder on the gas to increase speed. There is something freeing about being alone on the road; no one present to hear your deepest thoughts but yourself, and most importantly, the pavement doesn't judge you. The only thing it cares about is having a little company from time to time.

  I don't ask any questions. I'm not capable of thinking right now. Instead, I allow my heart to guide me in the direction it wants to go. The mind can be deceiving, but the heart is incapable of lying. It may not give you the answer you want, but it's always the answer it's supposed to be.

  I turn down road after road, not knowing where I'm going, but sure to find the place I'm meant to be soon enough. A strange sensation consumes my body; a feeling like I got that night at the bon fire on the beach prior to Breyson showing up out of the blue. It's as if something is shifting around me, or stars falling into alignment. I can't explain why, but something is about to happen. I'm not sure whether to welcome it or hide and hope it doesn't find me.

  I shut off the engine and where I am comes into focus. I guess I'm long overdue for a visit. My subconscious knows more than my brain. It guided me here of all places. I step out of my car and a sense of deja vu takes over, only a year plus later. The September breeze blows around me, whispering in my ear. The ocean holds so many secrets, yet it never gets full.

  It's quiet, only a few morning takers; mostly surfers resembling specs out a few hundred feet from the shoreline, but most people like it down the stretch of beach to my right. This place was always my humble abode away from home. The pier looks the same as it always does, tranquil and welcoming. Each time I come here I can almost hear it calling my name. My last visit here changed my life, starting with my first real kiss from the only boy to ever steal my heart. He still hasn't given it back. Even if I could recoup it, I don't think I would. I'd rather him keep it; that just verifies it was real.

  I shut and lock the doors never taking my eyes away from the long stretch of wood that creates the pier. My feet start to move along the sidewalk before the texture changes to loose sand squishing between my toes. It's still cool from the night air. I continue to move forward as if being on that pier is a necessity for survival. It's always been a place to calm me when my nerves decided to go haywire. My calves begin to burn as my feet pummel their way through the sand.

  I finally reach the first step of the pier. Placing my hand on the rail I trail my hand over it, taking in the rough texture of the wood caused by years of rain and heat bearing down on it. I take a deep breath before lifting one foot and placing it on the step. Then, I follow it with the other. Before I realize it I'm standing completely on top of the pier.

  I look to the end. The color pallet is gray, white, and blue laid out for miles. There is no ending in sight. I take my time, putting one foot in front of the other. It's been so long since I've been here, and the last memory is hitting me like a football player tackling me, running full speed.

  My oxygen is depleting and my lips begin to tingle. I remember that night as if it were yesterday. The memories of Breyson and I are always so vivid, as if I'm living it all over again with each memory that comes forward from the reel they are stored on in my mind.

  I reach the end of the pier and sit on the edge, hanging my legs over the side. They still don't reach the water. I let myself remember the night on the pier when
Breyson kissed me for the first time. I close my eyes and place my fingers on my lips, remembering the way they felt pressed against his. He will always be the only person to own me. I have always been his, but he's no longer mine. It's too late. I let him go and that will always be my biggest regret, but if it keeps him happy then I'll learn to live with it.

  The breeze picks up and my hair sways in the wind. I get the oddest sensation. It's as if I'm not alone, but then again, I'm crazy as of late. I'll probably be that way for the rest of my life. I can see seagulls flying overhead, making noise as they soar through the sky. I wonder what it would be like to have an aerial view of everything like a bird does. Would it change your aspect of things to watch things from above?

  The memories are evoking emotions that I thought I laid to rest, but I was wrong. My chest is killing me. My mind is in a haze to everything but Breyson. It doesn't take long for the cleansing process to occur, pouring out through my tear ducts. With each tear I cry an ounce of pain deteriorates, but then is replaced with a new wound. If I could physically see my heart right now I imagine there would be a lot of scarring. "Breyson, if I knew then what I know now..."

  "Would you change it?" My eyes widen at the sound of the southern voice I'll never grow tired of hearing. You know, the brain is a cruel organ. I've discovered this on so many occasions. Do you embrace the hallucinations or do you pretend you never heard them and hope they go away?

  No matter how many times I answer this question I always react the same. I embrace them, because the alternative is to forget, and I don't want to forget. "No," I whisper into the air. "I wouldn't change a single second with you."

  "Then turn around." That voice again, deep and low, makes me quake upon hearing it. I have no idea why, but I follow instructions. I pull my legs up onto the pier and make a one-eighty degree turn. What I see steals the very air from my lungs as if someone is holding me by the throat, squeezing as hard as they can.