Give Me Yesterday

by K. Webster

  Tori: I’m done.

  Scrunching my brows together, I reply back to her message.

  Me: Like for the day? You do realize it’s only 4:45.

  I stalk past the stupid wall and make my way into my bedroom. For two weeks now, we’ve spent nearly every day together and tonight won’t be any different. Besides, I want to make sure she goes to group in the morning and spending the night with her will insure that I get to drag her unwilling ass with me.

  Tori: This case is pissing me off. I’ve done all I can do for the day. I thought maybe we could…

  She’s so damn cute. I’m usually the one coming up with all the plans and carting her around the city all the time. So, the fact that she’s attempting a suggestion has me grinning like an idiot for the first time today.

  Me: Fuck on my car? Make a sex tape? Let you give me a blowjob on your white couch?

  Her reply is immediate.

  Tori: No, you ass. I was thinking food. Jesus, you’re insane!!

  I laugh out loud.

  Me: Insane for you, baby. Pick you up in fifteen.

  Not waiting for a response, I tear off the clothes I wore to class and dress in a pair of jeans and a black, fitted T-shirt. I slip on a pair of black Chucks and brush my teeth before heading her way.

  The drive is short and the valet attendants wave at me when I pull into the bay. Tori is already waiting outside, looking beautiful in a crisp, navy pantsuit and spiked cream-colored stilettoes that match her blouse underneath. A smile tugs at my lips when I see her overnight bag hanging from her arm.

  I roll down the window as she strides my way, a breathtaking smile upon her lips.

  “Heaven’s that way, angel,” I flirt and point up.

  Her cheeks turn pink and she rolls her eyes at me. “Did those lines ever get you anywhere before me?”

  I laugh as she heaves her bag into the backseat and climbs in. “You’re the only one who falls for them,” I admit with a wink.

  “Who says I fall for them?” she pouts.

  I slide a hand around her neck and clutch the back of her skull, drawing her to me. Our mouths meet without hesitation and I kiss her deeply. When we finally pull apart, I grin at her. “You fall every damn time, baby. That’s what makes you so cute.”

  She huffs as I put the car into gear and cruise out of the parking lot. Even though she pretends to be annoyed, she’s happy. It fucking radiates from her and fills my soul. These last two weeks truly have been bliss for me.

  Meeting Tori and falling for her wasn’t something I expected to happen. My life has been one unsuccessful relationship after another—always missing an important deep element. With her, she’s the whole damn ocean. Her depths are still unchartered and I crave to explore every deep, dark corner of her. I could spend my life with a woman like her. The thought of giving her more children—children she deserves more than anything on this earth—threatens to make my heart combust.

  I want to give it all to her one day.

  Children.

  Marital bliss.

  A happily ever after.

  And nobody will take that away from her. I’ll protect her future with my life and make deals with the devil if that is what it takes. Tori deserves the best and I want to be the man to give it to her.

  Her warm palm squeezes my thigh through my jeans and she gives me a pensive look. She’s pulled off her blazer and the cream, flowy tank underneath it gives her outfit a more casual flair—perfect for going to dinner on the river.

  “Penny for your thoughts? You’re not normally so serious,” she says softly.

  I reach down and squeeze her hand over my leg. “Just imagining where this relationship will take us.”

  Her lips form a tiny “O” and she jerks her head to stare out the window. I’m sure the very idea of thinking about a future is daunting. Even though we’ve slept together multiple times now, I don’t miss the guilt behind her smile. The sadness that dances behind her eyes.

  “Where are we going?” she asks finally, changing the subject from our relationship status.

  I flash her a grin. “I’m taking you on a romantic date at Navy Pier. There’s an Italian restaurant that our Dean always raves about. Since it’s so early, we’ll probably get right in.”

  Twenty minutes later, we’ve parked and are walking hand in hand into the restaurant. Upon my request, the server guides us to one of the tables next to one of the giant open windows which overlooks the sparkling Chicago River. The sun is beginning to set and I couldn’t have chosen a better place to dine with the most beautiful girl in town this evening.

  “Bring us a bottle of your house chardonnay,” I tell the server as we open our menus.

  The man nods and scurries off, leaving me with the most stunning vision. Her eyes are downcast as she reviews the menu. Tiny tendrils of blonde have escaped her hair prison and they frame her soft features. Pouty lips purse together as she decides what she’ll have for dinner. Her long, dark lashes hide the bluest of eyes that I know for a fact outshine the picturesque river beside us.

  I could spend hours admiring her beauty.

  Her innocence that she cloaks with venom to most people aside from me.

  The sadness and despair that she fights desperately each day to stick Band-Aids on.

  “There you go again. The thoughtful Dr. Monroe,” she murmurs, drawing my attention to her pretty lips.

  I raise my eyes to hers and I’m satisfied to see that they are indeed more beautiful than the river, just like I knew they would be.

  Reaching across the table, I take one of her soft, manicured hands in mine. “Baby, I was just thinking about how perfect you are and how clearly lucky I am to have you.”

  Her eyes widen and her mouth parts open at my words. “Oh, I, uh…” she trails off.

  “Sorry,” I sigh and flick my gaze over at a bird that squawks from one end of the pier. “I’ve had a weird day. Last day of the semester and all. I tend to feel nostalgic and introspective. Although, that didn’t help me at all with my speech preparation.”

  When I glance back at her, she scrunches her nose at me. “What speech?”

  I smile. “I’ve been asked to speak at the graduation ceremony next Thursday night. I would love if you’d attend with me. Afterward, there’ll be a gathering at my buddy Cort’s house. His girlfriend Blair, his mother, my family—they’ll all be there. They’d all love to meet my girlfriend.”

  She swallows and tears her gaze from mine to inspect the menu some more. “Um, I’ll check my schedule.”

  Her words sting and I find myself tugging my hand from hers. Obviously, I’m fucking weirding her out with my bizarre mood today. I clench my eyes closed and attempt to pull myself out of my funk.

  We’re saved from the awkward moment when the waiter brings us the wine and takes our order. Once he’s gone, I pick up my glass and chug it down. I can feel her eyes on me but I don’t meet them.

  “Chase, I wasn’t saying no. I just…”

  I cut her off and drag my eyes to hers. “I know, Tori. I’m sorry but I’m just in a weird fucking mood today, okay? I’m not trying to make you feel uncomfortable or push you into taking our relationship to the next level or anything. Truth is,” I sigh, but prepare myself to admit what I’m thinking about. “I’m being weird because I feel the need to paint the wall again.”

  Her eyes go from sliding protective bricks around her to blazing with worry. “What?”

  With a frustrated growl, I run a hand through my hair and meet her gaze. “I was staring at the goddamned wall again today and realized it’s wrong.”

  “I see.”

  I huff. “I probably sound like a fucking lunatic.”

  Bitterness creeps its way into me and I pour more wine into my glass.

  “No, Chase. Look at me.”

  I bring the full glass to my lips and lock my eyes with hers.

  “Maybe I can help you. Do you have any pictures of this color you’re trying to match?” she questions.
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  Closing my eyes, I remember her dress that fateful day. I also remember Ashley’s horrified eyes later blazing with accusation at what I’d done. The memory sickens me and the color slips through the cracks of my mind and I snap my eyes back open.

  “Nope.”

  Tori frowns and flickers her gaze over to the river. “Did you find one in your booklet?”

  I nod and sip my wine. “Number eighteen.”

  Her brows furrow and she lets out a ragged breath. “Do you ever think that maybe this color will never be achieved no matter how many times you paint the wall? No matter how many shades you try? Chase, do you ever wonder if this is your way of fixing something that can’t be fixed? She’s gone and no matter how many times you paint the wall, it will never match the vibrancy that was her.”

  My eyes sting with angry tears and I blink them away. “Since when did you become the doctor, Ms. Larkin?”

  She sips her wine and straightens her back. Gone is the woman I’ve had the privilege of uncovering the last two weeks. Now, here sits the viper, Victoria.

  “Remember all that talk about carrying the other through rough times?” she says with a sure voice.

  I raise a brow at her as she continues.

  “This is me carrying you. And I’m saying snap the fuck out of it. You’re unraveling a bit there, Chase. This is the only way I know how to ‘carry you’ and I call it tough love. Get your head out of the dark place you’re in and focus on the now. I’ll help you paint the damn wall because I care for you, and quite frankly, I love the look in your eyes when I wear your clothes. Together we’ll paint that wall Number Eighteen. But honey,” she sighs and reaches for my hand, “The next day, when you wake up? The wall will still be the wrong color. No matter how many times you paint it, it can never compare to that of our memories.”

  I swallow and rub my thumb over the back of her hand. “I’m sorry.”

  She shakes her head at me. “Don't apologize. It isn’t like I haven’t had you wading through the bullshit emotional baggage that continuously surrounds me. We’ll figure it out together. And to answer your earlier question, I’ll have dinner with you and your friends and family after graduation. You’re very important to me, and schedules, work, whatever—it can all be pushed aside if that makes you happy. You make me happy, Chase. After a decade of heartache and suffering, I’m beginning to feel alive and it’s all because of you. It’s my turn to make you just as happy. Now, cheer up, wine and dine me, and then take me back to your place so we can make love all night. Together we’ll figure this out.”

  I stand abruptly and lean over the table. Clutching her cheeks on either side, I close in on her and kiss her sweet lips. Her strength fills me and the bleeding hole that hemorrhages in my heart slows to a stop. My mind that reels continuously with what-ifs and wrong shades of paint silences, filling instead with thoughts of Tori.

  When I finally break from her and sit back down, her swollen lips draw up into a proud smile. The Tori that she’s worked so hard to become prevails and she takes pride in being able to help me for once.

  “Thank you, beautiful,” I tell her honestly. “When you get all fierce and firm, it turns me on.”

  She bursts into laughter and shakes her head at me. “There he is, the sexy Dr. Monroe we all know and love.”

  My heart clenches at her casual mention of love. I’ve already scared her enough for the night. So, I bite my tongue in professing more heartfelt shit that might have her diving off the pier and swimming away from me and my diarrhea of the mouth.

  The waiter brings us Italian heaven that wafts with the aroma of garlic and cheese. Soon we’re lost in the comfortableness that is us, laughing and teasing. And of course eating.

  “I think since I’m helping you paint, again, that I get a free pass from group tomorrow,” she says as she brushes the thick paint along the taped off edge of the ceiling.

  I chuckle and cast a glance her way. Now comfortable in our relationship, she only wears a white T-shirt of mine, sans bra and no pants. Each time she reaches with the paint brush, the shirt rises over her sweet little ass and gives me a delectable view of her black panties that barely cover her cheeks. She’s fucking distracting as hell.

  “Nice try, Tori. You’re going to group. We both need it. You know that.”

  She pouts and climbs off the chair, dropping her brush onto the tray. “I hate it. I’d much rather spend all day with you. You’re all the therapy I need,” she purrs and wraps her arms around me.

  I inhale the sweet scent of her that somehow makes its way through the strong odor of the paint.

  “You vixen,” I say and grab her ass with my free hand. “You’re attempt to distract me is working but I’m not giving in. We’re going. Besides, the gang will miss us.”

  She sighs. “They’ll miss you. Nobody likes me there. I made a fool out of myself and now they all hate me.”

  I chuckle. “First of all, nobody could ever hate you. Hating angels is a sin.”

  She lifts her chin and accepts a kiss from me.

  “Second of all, the only way to build relationships with those people is to open yourself up to them. They’re all in the same boat we are, dealing with the crippling loss of loved ones. If you give them a chance, they can help mend your heart with their own stories and experiences. And, Tori, you can help them too. Like you help me.”

  Her smile is beautiful as she considers my words. “Okay, fine. You present a good case, Dr. Monroe. Tomorrow, I’ll go work my magic on the people.”

  Laughing, I toss my brush into the pan on the floor. “Come on, Samantha, you can practice your Bewitching on me in the shower.”

  She giggles and wriggles her nose to mimic the gal on the old television show.

  I slap her cute ass and then haul her over my shoulder, bellowing at the way she squeals at me to put her down.

  There’s no doubt in my mind Tori will bewitch them all in the end. She’s certainly performed her magic on me because I’m fucking spellbound when it comes to her.

  And I’m not complaining one bit.

  Chase is practically dragging me behind him as he walks down the hall of the community center and I fight the impulse to dig my feet into the ground like a child. However, I’m not successful at keeping my mouth turned down into a pout. I’m irritated that my attempt to seduce Chase into staying home this morning failed, and on top of that, he hid the clothes I’d packed for today and instead pulled out a women’s pair of jeans, T-shirt, and Sketchers, throwing them at me and telling me to get my ass ready. I glared daggers at him, a fiery sensation, a need to punch something overwhelmed me.

  He’d laughed and it only made me angrier, there was nothing funny about him having some random woman’s clothes in his house and even worse, expecting me to wear them.

  “They are my sister’s, baby.”

  Feeling foolish, I felt my cheeks turn pink. I bundled the clothes up in my arms and attempted to walk swiftly into the bathroom. He’d grabbed my arm, swinging me into his embrace and kissing me soundly, “Damn, you’re adorable when you’re jealous.”

  I scoffed and came up with the brilliant comeback, “As if.” Go ahead, roll your eyes. Then, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me, I ran to take a shower. Not that I stayed alone in there for long. A smile plays at my lips, remembering the steam which had nothing to do with the hot water.

  Chase continues to clutch my hand and leads me to the front of the room, seating me right next to the podium facing the circle of hodgepodge people. My spine straightens, and I bristle before I realize I’ve done it. I feel the calming sensation of a palm running down my hair and some of my tension leaks out.

  Chase begins by asking what everyone has been up to this week, and I am surprised to find my ears perk up, curious what other people do with their lives.

  The older man, Bill I think, raises a hand, his face lit up like the fourth of July. “Glenda and I are moving in together.” Glenda giggles and blushes. While seeing a woman
in her sixties giggling is a bit weird, it’s also kind of cute.

  “I brought treats to celebrate!” Glenda announces enthusiastically, walking over from the refreshment table with a dish of brownies. Everyone but Bill seems to turn a little green, but they all smile and make positive comments. I’ll be honest, it’s pretty funny. “We’ve certainly been practicing the horizontal tango enough, might as well make ourselves available to it twenty-four seven.” At that, Bill smacks her ass. Eeeeeeew, not so cute.

  “That’s great, guys. It’s a big step but it’s a positive one. You’re committing to each other and to your relationship.” Something in Chase’s voice draws my attention from the happy couple. He’s staring at me. “It’s a sign that you are in the acceptance stage, ready to move forward with your life. Finding happiness with someone, just as your loved ones would want you to.”

  I squirm in my seat, uncomfortable with his scrutiny and the words which somehow seem directed at me. I want to get defensive and yell “Baby steps, damn it!” Instead, I’m distracted when Nate speaks.

  “It was a tough week for me. My girls are starting to have new experiences and are recognizing that their mom isn’t there to share them with. My oldest had her first date last night and afterward, she cried in my arms for hours. That should have been so special, but boys are something that a teenage girl wants to gush over to her mom.”

  My throat gets a little tight and I ache for his daughters, seeing the crushing pain on his face, I wonder if maybe I was wrong and he feels as much hurt as I do. I glance at Belinda and remember that she has lost a child as well, and her husband as a repercussion. Bill lost his wife to sickness, he had to watch disease ravage her body until she passed. Glenda lost her parents and sister in a car accident, and being single her whole life, she has been left entirely alone.

  I sneak a glance at Chase as he focuses on Nate, encouraging him to talk, and to find creative solutions. Who has he lost? He doesn’t talk about it and it has started to bother me. In fact, I know very little about his life over the last decade or so. The only glimpse I get is through his vague comments, and that repetitively painted wall. I’ve opened myself up to him, bared myself and become vulnerable, and though he has given me care and support, I want more. I want to see inside of his darkness too.