Color of Forgiveness

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Color of Forgiveness Page 10

by Madeleine Beckett


  “Sabrina told me that she’d quit drinking. We barely saw each other so I didn’t know if it was the truth or not. She did go back to work but she kept calling in and just not showing up so they fired her. I didn’t find out about it until about a month after it happened. She… well, things were bad. She was really good at hiding the bottles and shit. I honestly didn’t know how bad things had gotten for her; I was too wrapped up in my own shit. The guilt was eating me alive. If I’d just checked on him earlier, he might still be...”

  Myra touches his chest. “You can’t think like that. It wasn’t your fault. Even if you had checked on him earlier, it still might not have saved him. It was an accident.”

  Dylan takes in a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, I told myself that but it didn’t help. Anyway, Nat called me one day at work. She’d stopped by the house to check on Sabrina; the two of them used to be really close. Actually, the four of us had been really tight up until the accident happened. Afterwards, things just fell apart. See, Chad and Natalie had a son born three months before Mel. His name’s Joseph. The two of them looked so alike that they could’ve been brothers, and they were best friends. Always playing together and shit… all the time.”

  He takes in a deep breath and stares down at their hands for a moment. Myra gently rubs his knuckles as she waits on him.

  “Joseph didn’t understand what happened to Mel. He was so little; all he knew was that he missed his friend. I can’t tell you what it did to me to look at him… what it still does. It rips my goddamn heart right out of my chest every time. They looked so much alike. That’s one of the reasons I had to leave Boise. I couldn’t deal with it. I know it wasn’t fair to Joseph and my family but it just hurt too fucking much. Every time I looked at Joseph, I saw Mel. It was like my son was staring back at me.”

  Myra nods, wiping at the tears leaking from her eyes.

  “Anyway, Nat called me and said Sabrina wouldn’t answer the door so she went to the window and saw her passed out on the living room floor. She’d overdosed.”

  Myra’s eyes widen. “Oh my god,” she whispers.

  “She had cocaine in her system. I was honestly floored. I had no fucking clue. I knew she was depressed. I knew things were bad. But I didn’t know it had gotten that bad. It scared the shit out of me. She almost died. She got better and went into rehab. And that’s when I knew I had to make some changes. I cut back on my work hours and tried going back to that damn therapist. I still refused to talk, but I did listen. I just didn’t believe in all of that therapy shit to begin with; I felt like I could deal with things on my own. But I really wanted to help Sabrina.

  “Anyway, it didn’t matter because things with her were just too far gone at that point. She was in and out of rehab. She’d make some progress and then have a relapse. My family and I did everything we could to try to help her. I wasn’t dealing with shit well at all. Since I wasn’t working as much, I just kept sinking deeper. I started drinking again. I just couldn’t deal with her anymore.

  “One night, she left the house. Said something about going to the grocery store, but I knew where she was going. When she got back, she was high. And I remember wondering if she had any drugs still on her. I’d tried some pot back in high school once but that was it. But that night, I felt something shift. The temptation was starting to get to me. I knew what would happen if I stayed with her.

  “So the next day, I packed a bag. I told her I loved her, but that I couldn’t be with her anymore. I couldn’t help her. That shit was beyond me. She cried and begged me to stay and promised over and over that she’d get better; that she’d quit using. I told her that she needed to get better and that I’d be waiting on her when she got well but that I couldn’t stay. I made a bunch of promises to her. Honestly, I would’ve said and done anything at that point to help her get better. I felt so fucking guilty for leaving her, but I couldn’t stay. I had to leave… to save myself. I left and filed for divorce.”

  Myra squeezes his hand gently. “I understand. You did what you had to do,” she says softly.

  Dylan nods. “This is something else my family doesn’t know about. I didn’t find out about this shit until after I filed for divorce. Sabrina stole money from our joint account.”

  Myra’s mouth drops open.

  “Before we lost Mel, we’d sold our house that I’d remodeled and made a profit on it. We put the money into savings and moved into an apartment. We were going to build a new house. I’d been working with my dad on the blueprints for it. Anyway, every dime of that money was gone. She’d spent it on drugs. I didn’t know it because she paid all the bills and shit. I should’ve been watching things closer but I wasn’t really in touch with reality myself at the time.”

  He looks at Myra with an odd look on his face. “It was weird but it really didn’t bother me. It was just money. I knew she was really sick at the time so I forgave her for it. I told her not to worry about it and made sure to keep it out of the divorce proceedings.

  “I lived with my parents for a few months until the divorce was final. It was tough. Sabrina kept showing up. She wouldn’t leave me alone; most of the time she was high but not always. She begged me to take her back. It was really hard.

  “After the divorce was finalized, I told my family I had to go. I had to get away from everything. My family begged me to stay. But I couldn’t. Seeing Joseph… it just hurt too damn much. So I got in my truck one day and took off. I just drove. I had no idea where the hell I was going. I ended up in Nyssa. I have no damn idea why, but I decided to stay. That was a little over a year ago.

  “When I left Boise, I told my family not to tell Sabrina where I was because I didn’t want her harassing me. But she did have my cell number and called me constantly. Sometimes I called her back and talked, other times, I didn’t.

  “She drove my family crazy at first trying to get them to tell her where I was. But then she just up and disappeared, and I didn’t hear from her anymore. I considered calling her a couple of times to make sure she was all right, but I didn’t. I felt like maybe she finally realized that we were really over and had moved on.”

  Dylan pauses and takes in a deep breath. “That weekend that I left and visited my family?”

  Myra nods.

  “That was the anniversary of Mel’s death. It’s been three years. My family goes with me every year to the cemetery. Before I left them that day and came to your house, I called Sabrina. I still felt like I had a tie with her because I’d promised her that I’d be there if she got well. But I had to make sure that she knew it was over, that there would never be anything further between us. I got her voicemail so I left her a message. I later found out she was at an AA meeting.”

  He looks deep into Myra’s eyes, touching her cheek softly with his free hand. “That night we spent together. That was one of the best nights of my fucking life. I didn’t want to leave you. It fucking gutted me to have to leave you like that.” Myra nods, gently rubbing his hand that lies in her lap. “But when I looked at my phone, I had a ton of calls from Sabrina. At first I thought she was just calling me back but when I listened to her voicemail, she told me that someone had vandalized Mel’s tombstone.”

  “What?” Myra gasps. “Oh my god…”

  “I didn’t know what the hell to do. She was at my house, sitting on my damn doorstep waiting on me. Before this happened, she’d planned on paying me a visit. She had a check for me for my share of the money she stole. She’d gotten an inheritance or some shit, and she wanted to give it to me in person. She wanted to tell me that she was clean and sober. She’s been clean for nine months. I’m so damn happy for her,” Dylan says with a small smile.

  “That’s wonderful,” Myra says as she squeezes his hand.

  “Yeah, it is. She’s had a rough time of it. Anyway, that day my mind was a fucking mess. All I wanted to do was get to the cemetery. I initially told her I’d follow her to Boise, but she refused. She said we needed to ride together because we had too much to t
alk about. I didn’t give a shit so I hopped in my truck. I figured that once we got back to my house, she could leave immediately. But of course it didn’t turn out that way.”

  He takes in a deep breath and shakes his head. “We fought the entire way there. She wanted to pick out a new tombstone. She was all upset that she didn’t have any say so in picking it out. But that was because she’d been basically incoherent at the time so I had to do it myself. I have to tell you that there was no way in hell I was gonna let her replace that tombstone. That shit means a lot to me and to my family. It represents my son, you know?” he says as he looks up at Myra.

  “I understand,” she says softly, as she nods her head in agreement.

  “I couldn’t let her replace it, so we argued. I finally called a stone specialist to come out and talk to us about repairing it. We finally compromised, and she let me keep it.

  “That day was so emotional for me. I wanted to fucking kill whoever touched my son’s tombstone. I was so fucking pissed and just sick to my stomach over the whole situation. We filed a police report and shit, but we knew it wasn’t gonna do any good. They said it was probably some teenagers that did it.

  “On the way home, I told her why I called her. I talked to her about the promises I made to her. I explained that I only told her those things because I wanted her to get better and that it was time for both of us to move on. I also told her about you. She was pissed.”

  Myra clears her throat and frowns as she looks down at their hands. “Um… she told me that you two were working on getting back together.”

  “What?”

  Myra nods her head at him.

  “Goddamn it,” he mutters angrily before shifting her on his lap. “That’s a fucking lie, Myra. No wonder you were so pissed at me. Why in the hell would she say that? It’s not true, I promise. I told her that I’d met someone and… shit. I knew I shouldn’t have let her stay that night, but we were both so exhausted. I didn’t want her to have to drive home so late. I figured she’d be gone first thing the next morning anyway.

  “I’m so sorry I was such a dick to you when I answered the door. I’d just woken up, and I couldn’t believe you were there. I couldn’t believe you’d met Sabrina and I hadn’t even had the chance to tell you about her yet. Everything just kind of came crashing down around me. Can you forgive me?” he asks with sad eyes and in such a tender voice that it makes Myra’s heart hurt.

  “Yes, I forgive you,” she whispers, reaching her hand up and touching his cheek.

  His eyes light up. “Really…?”

  She nods, giving him a small smile. He pulls her hand away from his cheek and kisses her knuckles softly. “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry, too. That I left the way I did and didn’t answer your calls. I feel so horrible now that I know what really happened. I was just so upset—”

  He reaches a finger up and touches her lips softly. “No. You don’t have shit to apologize for. You did nothing wrong, nothing. It was all me.”

  Myra shakes her head at him and starts to open her mouth to argue, but Dylan stops her with a shake of his head. “No. I mean it. You did nothing wrong.”

  “Yes, I did. I should’ve told you where I was going. I wasn’t truthful with you either. I knew you were going to come over later and I let you think that I’d be there. I guess I was hoping that it would hurt you like you had hurt me. I’m so sorry…”

  He pulls her hand up to his lips and kisses her fingertips. “I deserved it. I was a dickhead.”

  “No, you didn’t deserve that. I should’ve been more mature about the situation. I was so hurt and had so much going on with Susie…”

  “Of course,” he says, kissing her palm. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I know we still have a lot of shit to work out, but do you think you could maybe not give up on me? That you could somehow give me another chance? I don’t have much to offer. I’m actually pretty fucked up but… I want you, Myra. I want to be with you. In any way you’ll have me. You’re the first person I’ve felt close to since I lost Mel… you’re the first person that I’ve wanted to be close to. But if you… if you don’t want to be with me, I’ll understand…”

  Myra stares at him for a long moment, absorbing every inch of his handsome face. She has no idea how to help this beautiful, broken man. But she wants to try. Try with everything she has.

  “I want to be with you, too.” She reaches a hand up and tenderly touches his cheek.

  He moves her hand from his cheek to his lips and closes his eyes, his lips lingering on her knuckles. When he opens his eyes, Myra’s breath catches in her throat at the raw emotion she sees there. “Thank you.”

  She reaches her hands up around his neck and clings to him, her nose against the skin of his neck, just breathing him in. Dylan takes in a deep breath. “So how do we do this?” he asks. “What do we do now?”

  Myra pulls back from him, still keeping her arms around his neck and looks into his eyes. Her brows furrow slightly. “I’m not sure. All I know is that I want to do it together... with you.”

  CHAPTER 5

  PEARL, BEGINNINGS

  With a grimace on his face, Dylan shifts, trying to move into a more comfortable position. But it doesn’t help. This is one of the reasons why he hates flying so much; he’s just too damn tall and his legs are way too long to fit in the small seats.

  Leaning forward, he muffles a groan when a sharp pain shoots through his lower back. Glancing out the window, he sees the airport and mumbles a “Thank fuck,” under his breath.

  After enduring a bumpy landing, he finally makes his way off the plane. His pace is slow as he stretches his back every few feet, trying to work out the kinks. Switching his carry-on bag over to his other shoulder to try to alleviate the pain, he walks slowly to the covered parking garage.

  Tossing his bag onto the passenger seat of his truck, he pats his pockets and digs out a cigarette. His plans are to drive straight to Nyssa because he has to get his ass to Elaina’s to get his back adjusted. Taking a deep drag on his cigarette, he glances to his left and notices a man about his father’s age getting into the car next to him. Closing his eyes, he drags in a heavy breath, leaning his head back against the headrest as he gets hit with a load of fucking guilt over the fact that he promised his dad he’d visit more often. Yet here he is in Boise, just minutes away from his parents and all he wants to do is leave.

  “Fucking shit,” he mumbles in an irritated voice as he starts his truck and heads for his parent’s house. He’ll stay for just a few minutes; show up and make it look like he’s trying and then get the hell out.

  Rolling the window down a few inches, he flicks the ash off his cigarette, his thoughts shifting to Myra. He wanted more than anything to fly home with her, but they weren’t able to get on the same flight. So he took the earlier flight and flew out today. She wanted to stay an extra day with Susie and plans on flying home tomorrow.

  It hurt leaving her. He’d wanted to kiss her so fucking badly. It had been too long since he’d felt the warm softness of her lips against his. So when he told her goodbye, instead of kissing her like he wanted to, he’d grabbed her hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles. He won’t fuck things up this time. He will do things right.

  He’s still amazed at how easily he was able to talk to Myra about… Mel. His brow furrows; it’s been so long since he’s even allowed himself to think his son’s name let alone say it. For the last few years, he’s just blocked it entirely from his thoughts because it just hurt too damn much. It still hurts… but that agonizing pain that normally leaves him breathless and physically aching isn’t as bad as it used to be. But what does that mean? Shouldn’t he always have that intense pain? His son died, for Christ’s sake; he can’t ever let himself get comfortable with that fact. As his father, it’s his damn duty to carry that pain as a reminder or some shit.

  Pulling into his parent’s driveway, he parks next to his dad’s work truck. He gets out of his truck and stretches before walking
up the steps and knocking. His dad answers and his mouth drops open for a moment before he quickly recovers and gives him a wide grin. “Come on in. How are you, son?” he asks before grabbing him in a tight hug.

  “Good,” Dylan says as he steps inside the house. “Is this a bad time?”

  “Of course not, I was just a little surprised, that’s all. You’re always welcome son… anytime. Oh boy, your mother is going to be so excited—”

  “Dennis?” Sherri calls out, interrupting him. “Who was at the door?”

  Dennis grins, nodding his head towards the kitchen. “Go on. Surprise her. She’ll be thrilled.”

  Dylan smiles when he steps into the kitchen. “It smells awfully dang good in here,” he says. “Whatcha cookin’?”

  His mom whirls around from the stove and gasps. “Dylan?” she blurts out before running towards him and throwing her arms around his neck and immediately bursting into tears.

  “Why are you crying? Do you want me to leave or something?”

  “No, no. These are happy tears,” she says as she quickly wipes her eyes and grins up at him. “I’m just so happy to see you. What are you doing in Boise?”

  He frowns. “Uh, well, I… I don’t know, I just—”

  “Oh sweetie, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re here,” Sherri exclaims happily. “You couldn’t have come at a better time. Oh, goodness. I was supposed to call you. Did you hear about Natalie?”

  “Yeah, Chad told me.”

  “Oh, good… I’ve been spending a lot of time over there but Chad insisted I take tonight off. He ordered pizza for them,” she says, smiling, “so I decided to cook your dad a good meal since I’ve been gone so much. Are you hungry?”

  “I’m starving,” Dylan tells her as he leans over her shoulder to peek at what’s on the stove.

 

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