Finding Serenity (The Unexpected Love Series Book 2)

by Black, T. E.

  “Hey. What’s going on? Why are you closing up on me?” she mimics softly.

  “It’s nothing, really. I'm okay. My head’s just fucked up after the accident. That’s all.”

  I look around the room again, hoping to avoid the awkwardness surrounding us. My eyes land on her dresser, and I take in the vase of red roses sitting on top of the white wood finish.

  “Did you get me flowers?” she questions.

  “It wasn’t me.”

  I stand, grabbing the vase and setting it on the edge of her nightstand where she smells them.

  “These are beautiful! Is there a card?”

  “Yeah. There’s one in the back. Lemme grab it,” I confirm, my stomach dropping.

  The moment I see the handwriting on the front of the tiny rectangular envelope, I know who they’re from. He can’t just let her go, can he? He just has to keep sticking his nose back where it doesn’t belong. Why the fuck can’t he let me get the girl just this one fucking time?

  I flick the card on top of the bed, turning around and storming out like a fucking child.

  “Gunner! What’s wro-” Shay shouts, but I’m already slamming her bedroom door before she gets another chance.

  5 Seconds of Summer – “Amnesia”

  “WOULD ANYONE LIKE to share with the group?”

  Ryleigh grabs my hands supportively, nudging me with her shoulder. This is it. I’m gonna fix this shit. I have to. I can’t lose her any more than I already have.

  With a nervous thud to my heart, I stand from my seat and address the group.

  “Hi. I’m Trent Wallace,” I mumble.

  Ry nudges me with her foot again, and I stand straighter, making eye contact with the room. Ten people stare back at me, all with different expressions on their faces, but no one is judging me. Everyone in this room looks like they actually want to hear my story. They look like they fucking care.

  “Hi, Trent!” the group responds.

  “Trent, if there’s anything you want to talk about, we’re here. We will listen. No one here will cast judgment on you for the things you’ve done. We’re a family here. Each person you look at has been or is currently in your shoes. You can start to make amends with yourself here. Our motto is you can’t help the ones you love if you can’t help yourself,” the group lead says.

  I scuff my Chucks off the tile floor, sticking my hands in my pockets awkwardly. I’m out of my element here. I’m fucking embarrassed of what I’ve done to my loved ones. If I think about it, I’ve hurt everyone in my life, including Ryleigh. And she’s still sitting here by my side, trying to help me.

  “I’m a recovering cocaine addict,” I admit.

  The weight that lifts from my shoulders is insane. I’ve never actually said those words out loud. I’ve always sidestepped the phrase, trying to make my problem sound less significant than it is.

  “How long have you been sober?” a middle-aged man asks from his seat.

  “Ah … six days. I know it ain’t much, but I’m –”

  “Trying,” the man finishes my sentence.

  I rub the back of my neck with my hand, the tension in my shoulders coming back.

  “Yeah, man. I’m trying. I did a lot of bad shit, and I’m just trying to right my wrongs here.”

  “Six days is more than I can stay sober! Hell, that’s a fucking accomplishment in my eyes! Good job, man! Seriously. You’re doing great,” another group member adds.

  “Thanks, man.” I nod in his direction.

  “Who did you hurt so bad? There has to be something that made you want to kick the addiction.”

  The female voice catches me off guard. I saw women here when I first walked in, but I didn’t think they’d show any interest in a sorry sap like myself.

  “I hurt a lot of people.”

  “Did you hurt the girl holding your hand right now?” she asks.

  I glance down to our joined hands, nodding my head when I see tears in her eyes. I look back to the redhead chick grilling me and answer accordingly. “Yeah. I hurt her. I’m not sure why she came back.”

  The group, including Ryleigh, lets out a low chuckle before the group member keeps going. “Why are you so worried about your loved ones not forgiving you? Your friend there obviously forgave you. We’re only human. We make mistakes, some more than others, but that’s beside the point. No one’s perfect. I whored myself out for drug money while my husband was home taking care of our kids, and he’s still here.”

  She grabs the man’s hand next to her while he looks at her with an adoring smile.

  “It’s all about now. Your loved ones will forgive you, but you have to forgive yourself first. I’ve been coming to these meetings for over two years, and I still learn something new every time I step in the door. Forgiveness isn’t a hard thing to obtain. It’s how you go about it that matters.”

  “I GOTTA TALK to her, Ry.”

  “So go talk to her.”

  “I highly doubt she wants to see my sorry mug,” I mumble, pouring a hint of milk in my coffee.

  “But how do ya know if ya don’t try? What happened to the relentless asshole who never took no for an answer? Just because you’re sober doesn’t mean that part of ya is gone,” she explains.

  The waitress brings our breakfast to the table, setting the plates in front of us. Ry digs in her plate immediately while I flick my bacon around with my fork.

  “I don’t feel like myself,” I admit.

  “That will go away. Ya feel different because you’re not drowning ya guilt in booze or blow. You’re feeling a lot of new things inside, ones ya put on mute before.”

  Her words hit a soft spot. I feel a small twinge in my heart opening back up. I got fucking lucky to have a friend like her. She’s brutally honest with everything she says, and for once in my life, I appreciate it. I’ve taken her for granted the entire time.

  “Do ya know how much I love ya, Ry?”

  She looks up from stuffing her face with a smug smile on her lips. “And?”

  I look at her confused.

  “Keep going.”

  I roll my eyes, barking out a laugh. I know exactly what she wants me to say, and for the sake of her being such an amazing friend, I’ll give in.

  “And ya were right. You’re always right.”

  She hums, taking a sip of her coffee, a smile still present.

  “Finally! I thought ya were never gonna realize what a catch I am!”

  “All right. Enough picking on my ass. Since I’ve been such a shitty friend, I’ll ask. How’s life been? Is everything going well? Ya and Susan good? The bar good? Did ya get the papers yet?”

  “Yep. I signed that shit like three weeks ago. Ya lookin’ at the legitimate owner of Max’s! Now, I can throw ya sorry ass outta my bar anytime I want!” she jokes.

  “That’s great, Ry. Seriously. I’m wicked happy for ya. Ya were always meant to own the place. How about Susan? You guys good? Still living together?”

  “Eh. Let’s just say it didn’t work out. I’m thinking it’s time to switch back to the other market.” She laughs.

  “Are ya fucking kidding me? You’re back on dicks? Ya decide this shit when I’m no longer on the market! Bullshit!”

  I slam my hands down the rickety dinner table, our plates and glasses shaking from the force. Ryleigh chuckles, giving me a love tap on the chest over the table.

  “Stop it, asshole! If ya spill my breakfast, I’m gonna be wicked pissed. But, yes. I’m back on the male population. I’m lookin’ to score myself a man who’s packin’ some heat if ya know what I’m saying.”

  “I’ve been told I’m packing. Do ya know what ten inches looks li-”

  She cuts me off, pointing a fork in my direction. “Watch what ya say, buddy. I have no problem cutting ten inches off.”

  “Ya wouldn’t even be able to keep ya mouth closed when you sa-”

  “Trent,” she warns.

  I take her warning, letting the issue at hand go … for now. I’ll get
her later when she doesn’t have access to sharp utensils.

  “All right, ya scootch. We’ll discuss this later. Right now, let’s focus on me getting my girl back. Ya gonna help me out or what?”

  “I’ll help ya under one condition,” she agrees, diving back into her plate.

  “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

  “Ya have to promise to bring me here one morning a week and buy me an orgasmic breakfast.”

  I let out a deep laugh, reaching over the table and extending my hand. What can I say? The woman loves her breakfast foods.

  “Deal.”

  “Deal.” She shakes.

  David Guetta – “What I Did For Love”

  FLICKING THE RECTANGULAR embossed card in my fingers, I blow out a long, much-needed breath. The past day and a half have been awkward as fuck. After Gunner saw Trent’s handwriting on the card in the flowers, he’s been ignoring me unless need be. It’s terrible. I’ve told him on numerous occasions that I’m in love with Trent, yet he still refuses to believe what I’m saying. I know he thinks I’m just going through denial, but I’m not. I’ve spent nothing but time thinking about him, and I found I’m as much to blame as he is for everything that’s happened. Yes, his issues with Anthony landed me in a bad situation, but I made a mess, too. I should’ve told Trent about Tony from the beginning. I know he would’ve tried to protect me. Although Trent was selfish at times, he always loved me. I never doubted his love for me for a moment. Even when he looked at me in his house and called me a whore, I knew he just said it because he was hurting. I mean let’s be real for a moment here; don’t we all say things we don’t mean when we’re feeling vulnerable?

  I’ll fix this, Shay. I love you always. I’m sorry. – Trent

  I reread the flower card for the tenth time today, running my fingers over his sloppy cursive writing. It’s a little piece of him I’ll cherish until I get him back. I have no idea what he’s planning, but he doesn’t need to plan a damn thing. We need to talk, yes. We need to lay out all the secrets on the table, but we’ll work through them—together. I’ve never been more ready to jump in headfirst. I'm going in—all or nothing. If there’s one thing all of this taught me, it’s that sometimes you get lucky. Trent and I got lucky. Luck was the only thing that had anything to do with our relationship. Our foundation was built on lies from the start. It was only a matter of time before we ruined it. I’m not having it happen again, though.

  Trent once said I only noticed him when he was fucking up, and he was right. I overlooked all the good things that came from our relationship. I took the small things for granted. I should’ve paid more attention to the sideways glances he’d give me when I wasn’t looking, or the stolen kisses he took without me realizing what they actually meant. I should have noticed him all of the time. But I won’t do it again. I won’t take him for granted again. I’ll make sure I show him as much love as he showed me. He may have had a funny way of going about it, but so did I. I’ve always been a woman who tucks her emotions in her sleeve, always having a hard exterior, but a tender heart.

  I’m willing to fight for our love. I only hope he’s willing to surrender.

  “Mommy! Look! Look!”

  Abby comes through my door in rapid fire, jumping on my bed with a loud squeak. She shoves another drawing in my face while I laugh at her excitement.

  “Let me see, baby girl,” I say, examining the picture before me.

  A stick figure family sits on the paper with arrows and names at the top of each person. An arrow signaling “Mommy” stands to hold a little girl's hand with an arrow pointing at “Me” while a male stick figure holds the little girl’s other hand.

  “Do you miss Trent?” I ask, looking where the name “Daddy” is written over the third stick figure.

  “Yep, but it’s okay, Mommy. He said he’s going to see me soon.”

  I give her a sympathetic smile, knowing she loves him. Abby’s been having a hard time without Trent around. She understands we aren’t together anymore, but she doesn’t think he should’ve left her too.

  “Honey. He said it a while ago. I haven’t talked to him lately …”

  Abby stares at me with confusion, pouting her bottom lip out.

  “But he said he got you flowers, liar. You talked to him.”

  What? How does she know about the flowers? I’ve purposely kept the card hidden from her so she didn’t get her hopes up. I won’t crush her little heart again.

  “Have you been snooping again, missy?”

  “No!” she exclaims, crossing her arms.

  “Then how do you know about the flowers? Hmm?”

  Abby reaches in the back pocket of her pants, pulling out a small rectangular card mirroring the one I got. She thrusts it at me, and I take it from her tiny hands. My thumb traces over his handwriting as tears well in my eyes.

  I’ll see you soon, little princess. P.S. – Mommy might cry when she sees this, but make sure you hug her and tell her Daddy’s coming home earlier than she knows. I love you, Abby. – Daddy

  A sob shakes my body, and Abby follows Trent’s orders, hugging me with nothing but love. My daughter holds me in her arms while I cry, whispering “how” over and over again. She tells me she loves me repeatedly, saying Daddy’s coming home.

  “He sent me flowers just like yours,” she whispers during my breakdown.

  GUNNER CAME BACK from grocery shopping a few hours later, and his demeanor hasn’t changed. He’s still avoiding me like the plague. I go through the motion of deciding whether to tell him about Abby’s flowers or not. I have no idea how they got in her room since I know I didn’t sign for them. I’m also sure Gunner didn’t sign for them without having a fit about it.

  A soft knock on my door causes me to shove Abby and my matching flower cards under my pillow like a child trying to hide something from their parents.

  “Hey. You mind if I come in?”

  I nod, and Gunner comes in, taking a seat on the edge of my bed. He keeps his back turned, hiding his face from me. I stare at the back of his head, wishing I could read his thoughts, if only for a moment. I wish I could understand what’s going on with him.

  “What’s going on, Gunner? It’s me. Just talk to me. You’ve been avoiding me since the card incident,” I plead.

  His shoulders move up and down as he releases a grumble.

  “I don’t know how to deal with this,” he admits.

  “What do you mean?”

  With his back still to me, he leans his head into his hands.

  “This … us … I can’t get it figured out, Shay. What am I to you?”

  I stay radio silent, my palms clamming up. My throat turns dry, and my breathing speeds up a thousand notches. I didn’t want to have this conversation yet. I don’t want to lose him yet. Does that make me selfish? Does it make me selfish to want to keep him and Trent but for two different reasons? I know Gunner’s been nothing but good to me. He’s been my rock before Trent even came along. How is it fair for me to choose Trent?

  He glances over his shoulder at me, confirming my worst fears. With a groan, he stands, finally turning to face me, and I panic. This is it. This is going to be the part where I push him away forever.

  “What am I to you!” he shouts this time.

  When I don’t answer, he shakes his head in disbelief.

  “You don’t even know what I am, do you? One minute, you lean in, and then the next minute, you pull away. You’re keeping me around because he isn’t here. That’s what this is! Why can’t you fucking want me the way you want him? Why am I not enough for you? Do you need me to put you in fucked-up situations for you to love me? Is that what you need? Do you need me to almost get you killed before you fucking choose me? I was the one who was there for you, Shay! Me, dammit! Not him! He didn’t give a damn about you when you were almost ra— Fuck! I can’t even fucking say it!” He drops to his knees, his head falling down with the rest of him.

  I close my eyes, readying myself for the blow
I’m going to give him. I know I’m going to crush his hopes, but I’ve never given him a reason to think otherwise. This has to happen. I can’t keep going on this way with him. He’s my best friend, nothing more.

  “Gunner,” I comfort softly. “Please don’t do this. I don’t want to lose you. Don’t make me choose between you and him. I don’t want this to ruin what we have.”

  He picks up his head, a glare present. His eyes stare through me as if I’m nothing at all to him.

  “And what’s that, Shay? Huh? What the fuck do we have? Because from where I’m sitting, I only see this going in one direction. You’re gonna choose him instead of a sure-fire bet. You’re always gonna pick him over what you know could be your happy ending! So tell me, Shay! Tell me what the fuck we are because I’m sure I already know the answer.”

  His harsh tone makes me wince with regret. Although I can only hope and pray I don’t regret the decision I’m about to make. I know the consequences for what I’m about to do, but how am I supposed to ignore my heart screaming at the top of its lungs?

  “I love him, Gunner. You can’t blame me for it. You’ve put me up on this perfect little pedestal where I can do no wrong, but I’ve done wrong. I’ve done just as much wrong as he has. You just choose not to see it. You’re throwing all of the blame on him when I deserve at least half of it. You can’t keep stoning him when he didn’t commit the crime alone, dammit! I love you, Gunner, but not as much as I love him. You’ve taken care of me. You’ve been a good friend to me, and I couldn’t be more grateful to have you in my life. But if you make me pick between the two of you, he’s going to win.”

  A drop of liquid seeps from my tear duct, rolling down my skin while my heart cracks in half. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I had no choice. What kind of person would I be if I just strung him along until Trent came around?

  Gunner’s face morphs into something hard while he stands from my floor. He blows out a deep breath before facing me, his body language defeated. Walking toward me, he braces himself on the edge of my bed and brings his face close to mine. His eyes rake up and down looking for any sign I’ve changed my mind, but there’s none. I won’t change my mind about this.