I spotted a runner turning at the corner, wearing earphones and bobbing her head. Across the road was someone walking their dog. Surely, I’d have noticed if they passed?
My neighbors were a newly wedded couple, with a two-year-old kid, and an old couple who liked to sleep in.
Jerry, my younger married neighbor, came out with a yawn, carrying a mug of coffee. When he saw me, he waved then walked over.
“Hey Sherry.” He eyed my bags, his eyes somehow a little sad. “Aw man. You’re leaving? Gonna break Cory's heart.”
Cory was his younger brother. We got along well, and he asked me out once before, but I wasn’t read to start something, and I never felt any spark. Still, we remained good friends. I cracked a grin.
“I’ll still be in touch. It’s beautiful here. Just… my heart’s telling me to go back.”
“Could always tell you weren’t happy. But you better go visit the next time you come back. Mary will be pleased.”
I gave him a hug and wished them well, promising I’d be back to visit. I nearly asked if he’d seen anyone around, but seeing that he’d just woke up, he couldn’t really have known, and I didn’t want to make him worry.
Deciding it was time to go, I went inside and shut my door. I looked back, a little wistful. “Bye, little house. It was fun.”
And as I sped away, I looked at the faint outline of handprints from the distance.
* * *
I tried to shrug off the image in my head as I drove home.
The hair at the back of my neck rose at the thought of those handprints.
As I was walking to Abe’s with it still on my mind. I rubbed my hands along my arms. I went to the café after I dropped off my stuff at Gem’s to get my daily dose of coffee.
Wes, already there, waved when he saw me.
“Hey," he said.
“What’s up?”
He slid down on the seat next to me. “This is a really shitty position to be in. You’re both important to me. He’s pretty much looking like hell at the moment, and you’re not looking any better.” Frowning, he asked, “You been getting any sleep?”
I shrugged. “Some. Not a lot, but getting by. I… I don’t know if I can see him yet.”
Confusion was all over his face. “It’s always complicated when it comes to you two. What happened? It all went by really fast. One minute you both seemed like you’d solved things, then the next you’re both not on speaking terms.”
I didn’t know how to answer him. “We both have a lot of things to figure out still. He said things, then I said things, and it’s… It’s a mess.”
He stayed with me, and it was a comfort. “Do you still love him?” he asked me, his expression grave, and it came from left-field, it surprised me.
“I shouldn’t,” my voice cracked. Damn it. I was so tired.
He sighed, and then he pulled my plate away, forcing me to look up in protest. “You need to talk to him, Sherr. I told him the same. What you both have, it’s something special.”
Something wet touched my cheeks, and realizing what it was, I swiped it away quickly. “I don’t know what to say to him.”
“Make him understand.”
I clenched my fists on lap. Being away for years taught me the cold, hard reality. “We don’t always get what we want.”
“But you can try.”
Did he always have an answer for everything?
“I hear you got your stuff from your old home," he continued. "Should’ve asked us to come, we could’ve helped.”
“I didn’t have a lot of things I wanted to keep.”
A look of understanding crossed his face. “It was never home to you,” he stated, but it sounded more like a question.
“It was more of a place to stay so I could do work. But I cherished the independence and anonymity while I was there.”
Absently, he said, “A lot of people look at you, and they think you’ve set yourself up somewhere, having a grand time.”
“It’s easier to make up stories about things you don’t understand.”
He replied sympathetically, “Don’t be too harsh on them. I think a lot of the people who’ve lived here longer just start to live vicariously through the gossips and relationships that go around. When they don’t understand it, it confuses them.”
I felt the chill of the wind and heard the door shut. Abe sidled over and sat next to me on the vacant seat on my other side.
“So. I was reading some newspaper in the shop yesterday, minding my own business, when this guy comes in, grabs a few things, snaps at every customer who looks at him the wrong way. Doesn’t answer any questions that involves a lot of talking. Five seconds later, he apologizes,” he said, and paused, taking a sip. “You're the cause, huh?”
He only confused me. “Sorry, but cause of what?"
“What else, sweetheart? Don’t guess you argued with anyone recently that’s made you withdraw into yourself. He's worn a scowl recently, and his eyes are the same as yours, like you lost sleep and can’t find it.” He shook his head, like that amused him. "Man's crazy about you."
After that night the other day, I very much doubted that.
"That thing in the past, heard about it. But it's over now. This time you can say yes.”
He left me with that.
I sat there, speechless. A proposal? Was he insane? I wasn’t even sure what I’d do with a proposal, not that it would happen any time this century, because I was done.
Wes apparently found it hilarious, because as soon as Abe left, he burst out laughing.
* * *
Eva, and Sierra offered to help me set up a couple of new pieces of furniture, and to help me with painting and fixing up some areas.
“What on earth do you put in here?” Eva asked me as she carried a box.
“A lot of old notebooks and folders,” I shrugged, taking it from her and gently lifting it down next to the couch.
Eva brought some frozen cookie-dough, while Sierra offered to help roll them up and put them in the oven.
We were cutting the tape on some boxes next when Sierra peeked her head from the doorway.
“Umm, can one of you check if I’m doing this right when you're free? Don’t want to mess this up.”
Then she went back into the kitchen.
Eva volunteered to remove the kitchen wallpaper. When Sierra didn’t come out fifteen minutes later, Eva looked worried.
“I’ll go check what Sierra’s doing. Don’t want her making the oven explode or anything.”
Crap. I nodded. Didn’t want her blowing up the kitchen just when I was setting things up.
The radio was on, playing a soft bluesy tune. The scent of vanilla candles wafted in the room as Eva lit some up a short while ago. They were a gift from Haley, and they were in a gorgeous rose-shaped form.
I finally made it to the shelf, placing some binders and old books I loved reading on it. I transferred some books stacked on corner tables to one central shelf to make things easier to find.
A knock on the door startled me. Haley, Kate and Wes were at work, so that crossed them out.
* * *
I didn't expect to see him there. He waited outside, bumping a hanging potted plant with his knuckle, making it swing.
I opened the door slowly. Chase stood just before the doorstep, looking a little out of place. And the way he looked at me, it was like he couldn’t believe I was here.
I didn't know what to say. It was still too raw, and I was still struggling to deal with it.
Suddenly arms were around me, my face planted on his shoulder. And almost as soon as he had me in his arms, he let me go. Why did I feel the chill all the way to my heart?
"Chase–"
"I went by Haley's this morning," he said.
I moved back cautiously.
Unsure of where this conversation was heading, and aware his gaze was on me, I busied my hands. I rushed to the shelf. I picked up a stack of books… and with my clumsy hands, dropped the
m.
Damn it.
I didn’t know how to deal with this side of him. He’d been sweet on me, and after me deciding to stay away, I was left confused. He'd doubted what we had, the strength of what I'd felt for him, and above everything else that he said, that cut the most.
I could admit to myself that I wanted him, but how would it ever work out?
“Then I went here, but you weren’t here either… Thought you went back,” he said. He bent down to help me pick up some of the books I dropped.
“Thanks,” I said carefully.
I arranged the books on my shelf carefully. My hands trembled, but I took a deep breath. There was no way to mask the effect he had on me, so I decided to avoid his gaze altogether.
Get a grip.
“I just went to get some stuff," I said evenly. “Don’t need to worry. I’m not leaving.”
I resigned myself to thinking this was how it was going to be. People would never believe I’d stay. In the back of their minds, there was the distrust and fear.
“Am I really so untrustworthy?” I tried not to let it show, the bitter sting of his words. This would never work.
Did I imagine a growl? “No. That’s not it.”
“They didn’t burn!” Eva emerged from the kitchen, doing a dance. She stopped, her hands flying to her mouth.
“Hey! Why does everyone expect–” Sierra protested as she trailed behind, carrying a tray. Seeing Chase, she glared. “You!” she pointed a finger at him, accusing. “Come close and I’ll cut you.”
Sierra was carrying a tray of cookies, she was at least two feet shorter than him, and she threatened to cut him. I stifled a laugh.
Chase looked like he was holding back more words, frustration etched on his face.
Eva stepped in front of me, her look fiercely protective. Uh-oh. I’ve never seen that look on her. There was no telling what she was going to do.
She narrowed her eyes, daring him to speak. “I know what you did, you ass. I don’t recall Sherr extending an invitation.”
“Eva, Sierra, it’s okay,” I tried to placate them both. It wasn’t okay, but I wasn't going to make an issue out of it and kick him out.
For whatever reason, tonight, he came to me. I didn’t know or understand why, but part of me wanted to know what he wanted, and another part was also weary of the constant back-and-forth.
“He can help,” I suggested.
It surprised her, but I could see the wheels spinning in her mind.
She looked at my bucket of paint at the corner of the room. She looked at my books. She looked back at the bucket. Then she walked past him, grabbed one of the paintbrushes we had, and placed it in his hand, closing his fingers around it.
“Paint all the walls,” she dared.
His eyes glinted, and his eyes scanned the walls, assessing. To my surprise, he smiled, unfazed. “Done,” he said without argument.
He didn’t so much as blink.
It only made Eva pause for a second. “Then prove it.”
Sierra elbowed me. “Is he for real?” she whispered in my ear. Eva game me a thumbs up.
“We have cookies if you want some,” I offered.
* * *
“Oh no,” I gasped in horror ten minutes later, looking at the cream-colored shade that spanned half of the wall. “It’s the other side that was meant to have this color.”
“Fuck. Sorry.” He shook his head. “Should’ve gone over things first.”
It sounded like a challenge, and an invitation to talk about it further. I wasn’t going to bite.
Evade, evade, evade. “It’s this color,” I took the right bucket and brought it down next to him.
I decided I wasn’t going to scratch the surface of the past if he wasn’t willing to hear me out. No matter how tempting it was to do so.
And him bringing it up now only served to fuel my anger.
I didn’t know what made me do it, but in a flash of inspiration, I dipped my finger in a bucket, and drew a straight line across his forehead.
He looked shocked at first, then touched his forehead and saw the paint. As if the mere action was incomprehensible. It dropped down to his wrist.
I snickered. His reaction was priceless. And the look on his normally composed self was so out of place, I couldn’t help when my snicker bubbled over into full, bellyaching laughter.
He looked at me like I’d gone insane.
Then a dark look crossed his face, and it made me shiver.
Without warning, he took his shirt off. “Okay, baby. I’ll play.”
He dipped a finger in red paint, and looked me over, his eyes glinting wickedly.
And I didn’t know what the hell to do.
Sierra stared, her mouth gaped open. “Sweet Jesus.”
He stalked in my direction, and I backed up. When my back hit the wall, I froze, putting my hands up in front of me as if that would stop him.
His finger swiped from my chin to my neck. I felt it drip down.
I looked down, astonished. "I liked this shirt."
His eyes went down to my top, and his lips curved up. “Too bad.”
* * *
What the hell was I thinking when I let him in? Maybe I really had gone insane. Maybe he really was like some sort of drug.
Stupid. I was so stupid.
Before I could say anything anything else, I was cut off by the sound of Eva’s phone ringing.
“Hello? Paula? Sure.” When the call ended, she said brightly, “She says she has something for you. Also… You might need some help too.”
“I’ll come,” Chase offered.
Hell. Did the universe hate me?
“No, he won’t.” I gave Sierra a pleading look. She shared a look with Eva and she frowned.
Her expression softened when she turned to me. “Call if it’s too much to carry, okay?”
And I understood. Call her if I needed help. I nodded in understanding.
We met Paula fifteen minutes later. If she thought it weird that we were both partially covered in paint, she didn’t say a thing. But she couldn't hold back a laugh, much to my chagrin.
“These are both old oil paintings, but one of them was of the sunset. Gem loved it.” A wistful expression crossed her face. “The other one is for you. You’ll see what I mean. Don’t open it just yet, though.”
A sharp intake of breath escaped me as I saw the painting of the sunset. It’s colors were strikingly vivid and rich, and it captured that magical moment when the sun hit the sparkle of the water, and the orange of the sky blended with the yellow and hints of purple.
The other painting was much smaller, wrapped in thin paper. In that moment, both became precious to me.
“Thank you,” I managed to say.
“Hope you settle in well.” She kissed my cheek, and hugged me.
To my left, Chase went still at her words.
Oh crap. He didn’t know.
“Sherr–”
I walked faster, thinking if I got there, maybe we could delay the conversation, or maybe he would forget about it altogether.
I can dream anyway.
I stopped when I started to recognize where I was going. The familiar shape of the trees; , and the path that gave way to a small clearing.
Chase seemed to have realized it too. “This place…”
My stomach felt sick, and I stopped in my tracks, as if my feet didn’t want to move any further. Was this really happening?
I realized, on this place two years ago, I had my heart broken.
Chapter Seventeen
Never knew
It looked exactly the same.
It was a secluded area that hid the small pond. Wildflowers grew here and there, and there was an organic, earthy feel to it that made it captivating. More lilies bloomed and they flourished, but the trees, the benches, much of it looked the same.
I didn’t really know what I expected, but the place assaulted me with the memories.
I felt like my nightmare w
as replaying all over again, the one where he tells me that we weren’t meant for each other. By the look on his face, his mind was occupied with the same thoughts. I followed the direction of his gaze, and found it on a bench just across from where we stood.
He chose that moment to look up, and our eyes met. It was electrifying, the kind of connection we had. That connection persisted, and that was what had both pained me and unnerved me when we met again. It was as if the world slowed down to a halt, every other detail vanishing, until he was all that remained.
It wasn’t fair. How could he slay me with a single look, and make the past few years cease to matter?
In that moment, I knew I could no longer deny it. We had to talk soon, the people around me were already going nuts, even if they loved me too much to say it.
A few days alone with my friends gave me the comfort and perspective I needed. Maybe it would change nothing. But maybe, even if it was a small chance, it would change everything.
I laid my palm over one of the benches, at the letters etched in the wood. Sherry J and Chase, wrapped in the heart-shaped bubble. And I could see it in my head as we'd written our names, when I'd insisted he write inside it, back when I’d believed we had a chance.
More memories came. In this same spot he told me he didn't think we were right for each other, and the memory of it was crushing. I remembered the shock, the startling realization that nothing had been real.
When I looked back to him, all his focus was now on me.
“You’re moving in?”
“I– It's not really–” I stammered. I took a tiny step away, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
Then it turned into a glare, and he took a step closer, swallowing the distance again.
"You're staying,” he said again, seeking a confirmation. The way he said it sounded more like an accusation.
I braced myself for his reaction. "Yes," I said. Better to keep the replies short.
A pause, and then releasing his breath, he said, “Good.”
Good? Why was it good? Narrowing my eyes, I stepped closer and poked his shoulder. Of course he was glad. He was glad he could torture me longer.
Truce or Dare (Sweet Fortuity Book 1) Page 12