Shit.
I looked at the chair behind him. Chairs were good. Chairs were safe.
"You're back." There was nothing soft in the way he spoke. Each word was clipped, like little cuts that dug deeper with every word.
"Yes. Just today.” I kept my face even.
He took a step forward, closer this time. "I'd like to say welcome back, but you know I wouldn't mean it."
He took one more step closer, close enough so he could lean a little closer to my ear, and no one could hear. "So for old times' sake, gonna say hi." The iciness of his voice chilled me, his look stony as he moved back.
"Hi," I replied back weakly.
Then he took another step, walking completely past me, all the way out.
I didn't look back.
But I had a feeling, deep in my gut, neither did he.
Chapter Two
My anchor
Gem was buried that Saturday.
I didn’t cry.
I wasn’t sure why exactly. I just knew I was feeling numb. Like it was happening to someone else, not to me, and I was watching as each moment unfolded.
Gem. Her warm hugs. Her teasing and matchmaking. Playing Scrabble on a warm summer day in the porch, and promising a rematch, after I'd lost twice. She was a dreamer, while dreams to me were fleeting remnants of hope, so removed from reality. She was a firm believer of true love, and how it ran deep. She always believed in me and him and what we had, even long after I stopped, because the thought was too painful.
There was the shame that I didn’t stay. She wanted me to stay, she told me as much. Chase and I could fix this, she said.
Had she thought I abandoned her too, the way people back here did? I thought back to our last conversation, when I told her about my last signing. No, not Gem. When I lost everything, she kept me grounded. She was proud of me.
When I was nine, I took a post card from one of her drawers. To my nine-year-old self, it looked shiny and pretty. I misplaced it, and was scared to approach her when I knew it was important to her. She loved collecting stamps and post cards from everywhere she’s been. I always suspected she knew, but she never said anything. I never told her that. Why did I never tell her?
When my mom seemed lost in her own world, grandma picked me right up, and read to me my first novel as I fell asleep; The Princess Bride. I’ve developed my love of literature and reading ever since.
Why did I leave? Was I poison to all the relationships I’ve had? I felt like I kept making a trail of careless decisions– I just didn’t know where that left me.
* * *
I don’t think I really talked to anyone after. I don’t think I was capable of it if I tried. People came up to me to give me a hug, and their condolences. They loved her and respected her. And whether they felt that way about me too or not, it didn’t matter. That alone was enough.
I found I didn’t have it in me to be snippy to Matilda. I couldn’t find anger or disappointment, and so I didn’t have the right words to give anyone.
Chase gave me a wide berth. If he thought it unusual that I didn’t speak, he didn’t say anything. But I took it for what it was, and I was grateful for it.
* * *
I found that after the service, with the days that followed, I couldn’t write anything. It didn't bleed into my writing, but to everything else.
Perhaps I was scared to open myself up in that way. Or maybe it was the sudden anger that was boiling inside, waiting to be unleashed on some poor unfortunate soul— I was determined not to get there.
I was inconsolable. In other words, I was a complete mess. The worst thing was, I didn’t know how to deal with it, and I don’t think the people around me knew how to either.
At the end of another day, I dropped down in bed.
With my door slightly ajar, in the room next to mine, Coldplay’s ‘Paradise’ was playing.
Haley. She was playing it for me.
I shut my eyes and let myself drift off
* * *
After nearly a week, it was as if something in me resurfaced.
The room, previously my sanctuary and safety blanket felt cramped, and I felt the sudden need to go out. It didn’t matter where, as long as it was anywhere that wasn’t here.
I was a morning person, so it was pretty rare for me to run evenings. Today, I felt that I needed the extra distraction.
So I got changed, put on my trainers, and got outside where I could finally breath.
* * *
I just finished my run and was heading towards the door, when I heard a laugh erupt from the living room. The sound made me freeze just in front of their door.
Wait a minute…We had company?
Feeling a little like a spy, I ducked underneath a tree branch and peeked at their velvet curtain, pulled over just slightly.
And as I crouched, concealed by the trees, I had a glimpse of one of the visitors, and I started to panic.
Okay. Damn.
Double damn, he was here. I paced a little on their front yard, going back and forth.
I blew a breath out.
Option one– make a run for it.
Option two– sneak away, pretending they don’t see me.
Option three– say hi.
Well I knew what was never going to happen, because I would never be ready for him anytime this century.
Which only left me with the first two.
I was careful to twist the knob and open the door so I didn't make any noise, and did the same with shutting the door. The voices were louder this time, more animated. Something about a trip to Europe was being discussed in the background. Weary, I didn't feel up to dinner at all. Carefully removing my trainers, I placed them in the rack. I tried to sneak past the hallway, keeping my footsteps quiet. I came to a halt when Haley called my name.
Damn it.
I thought with something as important as meeting my ex-boyfriend, she would've at least let me know. Considering what our past was, I’d only hoped to avoid him.
“Sherry," a familiar voice drawled. I closed my eyes, hearing his deep, rough voice. It still affected me the same way. Why had I thought it would sound any different? “Glad you finally joined us. Have a good run?”
It was one thing to see him, it was entirely another to share the same space with him for something as long as dinner.
There he stood, devastatingly handsome, much unchanged. He wore a faded shirt and jeans, looking right at home.
I smiled tightly. "Yes, I did.”
I didn't think I had it in me to argue or to be snappy. But somehow, seeing him, it brought back an urge to do just that. It all rushed back to me, the hurt of the rejection, and losing him.
There was a quiet and deadly look to his eye that blazed with emotion, too much I didn't want to name.
I excused myself and mumbled something about taking a shower.
My emotions were a mess. Gemma was gone. The truth just began to sink in. No more weekly calls. No more baked goods that I could never replicate. I could've stayed. I should've stayed. I only wanted a little space and instead I lost what precious time I could've had with her. I didn’t need him complicating things by telling me what I already knew.
When I came down, people were already getting seated for dinner.
Chase, his brother Jake, Wes, Haley, and Paula were there.
It didn’t escape my notice that Kate hadn’t made it, and I couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of disappointment. I hated it, because I knew I had no right to it.
The only seat left by the time I made it to the table was the one next to Chase. Eyes narrowing suspiciously, I scanned my eyes around the table, but everyone seemed to be avoiding my gaze.
I sat in awkward, strained silence. The kind of feeling when you walk into a room of strangers, the moment you step in and every conversation seemed to halt, and you just know they were talking about you.
I got the same feeling. I felt, and occasionally caught glances in my direction, like I was
being judged. I thought I was over it, but after everything, all the glances felt like scrapes over a raw wound.
He was right next to me, but he wasn't at all. I don't think anything could have cut so deeply than the silence, the feeling of an invisible wall dividing us both. We may as well have not been in the same room. He made no further effort to engage me in conversation, instead asking his brother some questions about his work recently. I felt the distance keenly, and it reminded me of a time when I had all his attention.
As if sensing the tension between us, Wes grabbed a bottle of red wine and poured it in his glass and refilled the others.
"Sherry, I heard your latest book did well again. Congrats," he said, bring up the glass and taking a sip. All of a sudden, all the eyes on the table went to me.
"Thanks," I murmured, suddenly feeling very conscious of all the attention.
"Congrats, Sherr," Haley said with a dimpled smile, and a couple of congratulations echoed throughout the table.
"How long are you staying for?" Wes asked curiously. The unspoken implication of the question bothered me, more than I let show.
“Two, three weeks."
“Cool. We need to have some sort of reunion,” he suggested. A faint smile touched his face.
I needed a reunion like I needed a bullet in my foot. Which meant, not at all.
* * *
I needed to escape.
I remembered why I didn’t want to stay, and one of the reasons was sitting right next to me.
I put on a smile the whole time, nodding when appropriate. After most were finished with their meals, sinking into conversation, I decided I wasn’t going to stick around. Giving an apology and mumbling something about being tired, I pushed my chair back, and stepped out.
I was ready to head upstairs, when Chase called out my name, Wes quickly following at his heels.
Chase strode towards me, while Wes stayed back, giving us some privacy.
We both stood there for a while, measuring each other.
Then he broke his gaze and looked away, his expression guarded.
"Maybe you think I'm cold. Or that I don't care," he began carefully. "But I've had to deal with this for years already. Hell, I'm fucking tired. I had to come to terms that not only did you not want me, but you were gone."
"And you think I didn't have to do that,” I replied pointedly.
His expression gained a hard edge as he said, "I remember what you did. Don't start."
"I've never forgotten it." I've never forgotten what he did either.
What was that bullshit quote about time being the antidote of pain? What a laughingly cruel delusion. Time didn't cure anything; it merely dulled it.
"It was your choice," he said quietly. And the weight of his words was like a punch in the gut.
The hell of it was, it was, it could’ve ended much differently if I had made a different decision back then. "I know."
His grim expression somewhat softened at my admission. Then with a nod, he turned away, and I watched his back, my eyes blurry with what suspiciously felt like tears. I didn’t have time to wipe it away. I blinked them back, refusing to let them see.
Wes came forward.
“He cause this?” his forehead creased in a frown. Then he released a deep sigh. “He means well. He just… He’s confused by all this. You came at a difficult time is all.”
“I’m not blaming him, Wes. But maybe it’s difficult for me too.”
He nodded in acknowledgement. “I know. Just wanted to say welcome back. You’ve been missed.”
When I glanced back, some heads turned away guiltily, as if the wall sprouted flowers.
I ran back up the stairs without another word.
* * *
I tossed and turned that night. As I tried to sleep, the conversations I’ve had today replayed on my mind in a loop. Compounded with Gem’s loss, it was too much.
I've had to deal with this for months already.
I remember what you did.
I’m fucking tired.
It had been two years, and it all came back, everything I tried to bury.
He was my anchor.
And then he wasn’t.
I couldn’t hold on to anything. I always knew that. I felt like when he ended it, it affirmed everything I’ve always believed about myself.
So I did what any sane person would do– I turned to music. I got up, took my earphones, and hit play, hoping the soft, soothing sound would drown out everything else and pull me into a deep slumber.
Rage dwindled to a dull kind of pain, a sort of emptiness that ate you up. Then I realized somewhere in between consciousness and rest, that I hadn’t been mad at him, but at myself.
Chapter Three
A cut
I didn’t pack much before leaving, so I took the time to buy some essentials. With Haley offering to drive me around before she had to leave for work, I accepted.
I went to get a new haircut and opted for light brown highlights, just enough of a change to make me feel a little better. I’ve never been a fan of shopping for clothes or bags, but I did like shoes, and I loved trying things out with my hair. I purchased a new brush as well as some of the homemade macadamia-scented shampoo.
It was shorter, if a little choppy, but I liked it. It felt different. And I felt like I'd shed a heavy, unspoken weight, like I was coming into my own.
“Getting a little too celebratory?"
I knew the shop owner, Matilda. I came here a lot before I left. Her lips were pinched, her eyes daring me to reply.
The implication shocked me, and I found myself unable to speak. I touched the ends of my hair almost on instinct. They were a beautiful shade. There was a time she would've said as much.
"You turn tail like a coward, people talk, sweetheart. Maybe wonder why you returned."
I was so close to confronting her, risking causing a scene. Telling her that she could shove it.
How could she say that? How could she even think that? If she'd known about me at all, she wouldn't suggest such a thing. Is that what people thought?
But as I stood there, facing the counter of her shop, I found myself unable to return a sarcastic or snippy remark. She was someone that until now, I'd considered a friend, and what she just said cut deeply.
Of course that was what she thought. It was one of the reasons why I left.
The surge of anger rose, and then it mingled with regret. I should’ve stayed with Gem. I thought I’d still have more time with her.
I met her gaze evenly. "I loved Gem," I told her earnestly. "Say what you want about me, speculate about why I left. But don't pretend to know how I feel."
* * *
As I made my way out, I nearly stumbled back when I bumped into a shoulder. I almost dropped my bags when I looked up.
Well, hell. He was the last person I wanted to see right now.
The truth was I dreaded meeting him again. I was still feeling too raw, and he was someone I didn't think I was prepared to deal with right now, especially not after my incident with Matilda.
Disheveled golden brown hair, he looked as if he was out of his element, a little surprised to see me.
“Sherry," he nodded in greeting, and then to my surprise, he reached up, sliding a hand at the ends of my hair. "You’ve done something to your hair.”
I forced a smile, but stepped away, wanting to get away from here. People were watching. It started coming back to me, why I left. The stifling stares of people. "Just got a cut. I'll see you around."
I hurried back, even when I heard footsteps behind me. "Not now, Chase," I said quietly, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice, because I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to cry.
"Sherr, what's wrong?"
My steps faltered. He'd called me the same way he did back then. I don't think he realized what he did, concern all over his face. He had a hand on my elbow, until I was forced to stop and look back.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” I told him, sharper th
is time. Matilda was just one person. She didn't factor in to my life anymore. I had to focus on that. Calm was good. Focus on—
Jaw set, he replied stubbornly, “Fine. Play it that way.”
“I’m not playing at anything!” I snapped.
Shit. What happened to calm?
I turned back around, walking briskly all the way to Haley’s car. I felt a presence behind me even as I made it there. I turned back around. He wasn’t deterred.
All of a sudden, it was too much. Gem, Matilda, Chase. What the hell did he want from me? I was about to have a meltdown in the parking lot. Perfect timing. “You never know when to quit, do you?”
We stood, breathing hard, measuring each other.
“And you never know when to hold on,” he shot back.
Low blow.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you implying that I’d been the one to…”
I wasn’t equipped to deal with this right now. He had no right to start hammering accusations at me after everything that happened. But he couldn’t know how much it still affected me. The worst thing I could do now was to wear my heart on my sleeve.
“Forget it. It’s done,” I said with a finality that sank heavy on my heart.
I slammed the door shut, refusing to look back. For some reason, I felt like I was ending something important, yet something I also didn’t fully understand.
“Nice hair,” Haley complimented me. “About that…” she wiggled her fingers in an attempt to describe what happened outside. “What is going on with you two?”
“Nothing,” I answered, but it came quick.
She gave me a look, a brow slightly raised.
“What?”
She took a deep breath and said, “Look, just looking at you two outside… That’s not nothing. Looks like you both still care plenty.”
Truce or Dare (Sweet Fortuity Book 1) Page 2