EXcapades

by Kay, Debra

  “That’s true, Lila, but why the complete break from me?” He glanced over, and I could see the question in his eyes. “We could have stayed in each other’s lives. It would have taken more effort, but we could have done it.” Blake grimaced as if he tried not to let his words sound harsh or mean.

  I looked at him curiously. “Maybe.”

  He fumbled with the radio. It seemed like he was searching for a distraction. Finally, he shut it off. “You know, I was devastated. I missed you so much. You broke my heart. In fact, you were the only one . . . ever . . . to hurt me.”

  “Looking at you now, Blake, I feel like I missed a lifetime of joy with you. In my mind, you’re the one who left me,” I said defensively. “You just didn’t realize it at the time. But I felt like you slipped away from me. It was too painful for me even to think about what you were doing with other girls when we weren’t together. And I heard stories of your shenanigans, plenty of them.”

  “Really?” he asked. Blake pressed the tips of his lips together until they turned white as if holding in secrets. He looked at me quizzically, opened his mouth as if to say something else, and then closed it.

  “It was difficult going to different schools.” He listened to me intently with a dismayed look. “The first couple years we were together were amazing. We had so much love and passion. But when I switched schools, everything changed between us.”

  Blake sighed. “How?”

  I paused briefly. “You know, for weeks, I felt like you were still my boyfriend, but I kept hearing stories of you and other girls. In the end, I thought it was easier not to have you in my life at all than to deal with that pain.” I watched his face and tried to read what lay underneath but couldn’t. He bit his lower lip and stayed silent while I voiced my point of view. “And now you want to twist things around and make me feel like I’m the one to blame. Well, keep twisting back toward yourself, too. We were both players as our relationship—deteriorated.”

  He snapped his face in my direction and looked almost too stunned to respond. A moment later, he turned forward and stared at the road. “What do you mean?”

  I nervously continued, “At the end of our relationship, after I transferred, I felt like I didn’t even know you. You were rarely available to talk or see me. And all those stories I heard about you with other girls. I wasn’t sure what was true, but I’d had enough.”

  Blake threw his hands up in frustration and then clutched the steering wheel. “Are you saying it was my fault? You know I always felt terrible about the accident. I replayed that scene a thousand times, each time wishing I caught your fingers when you slipped. I grind my teeth at night thinking about how stupid it was to have sex on that ledge. I’m sorry. I never wanted you to transfer.”

  “We were reckless, but it was more than that.”

  Blake rolled his eyes in frustration. “No matter what you thought at the time, I never betrayed your trust. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

  Those words flowed off his lips, but that didn’t make them true.

  “Well, I’m here with you now. And I want to try again,” I said.

  “The same goes for me. And I can’t do anything about what happened years ago, but I can show you the person I am now,” he said.

  My voice softened to a whisper. “Believe it or not, I always loved you.” I surprised myself with my admission. I hadn’t expected to say those words.

  And that silenced him completely. He looked at me with a twisted mixture of emotions. As if, at one time he would have given anything to hear those words, but now it made him feel angry and confused.

  “How can you say that you loved me, when you didn’t give us a chance?” he asked.

  “You became so distant that I stopped trying.”

  He frowned. “Well, you had it all wrong.”

  I stared at him. “It didn’t feel that way at the time.”

  “You were the only girl for me.” His voice elevated. “I have only really loved one woman in my life. That woman, of course, is you.”

  I looked at him in disbelief as I sat in stunned silence. None of this news occurred to me. Ever. Now, I didn’t know what to believe.

  “Why? Why me?”

  He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye but did not turn his head. “I’m not exactly sure how to express my feelings. There’s just something about you that warms me up inside. You always could.”

  At that exact moment, freezing rain began crashing onto the windshield. Blake clicked on the wipers, and clumps of wetness smeared across the glass. Our momentary silence was interrupted by the repetitive swish from the blades.

  “I was devastated when you broke up with me,” Blake said and cleared his throat. “I felt sad and guilty because you lost your scholarship. It felt like my chest squeezed until a chunk of my heart broke off. Almost like an iceberg snapping off a glacier and jarring into the sea.”

  I sat, startled by his admission. He must write some powerful short stories. The eloquence with which the words flowed out of him stunned me. I questioned the truth as I stared out the side window at the wet flurries surrounding us. The grass now had a dusting of flakes.

  He didn’t stop. “And those shattered, broken fragments of my heart that remained were as cold as ice. My fractured heart sent nothing but chilly blood coursing through my body.” He turned and looked deep into my eyes. “I missed you beyond words.” As he spoke, I tried to size up his sincerity.

  “Why didn’t you tell me years ago?” I asked, looking away and choking on my words.

  Blake shrugged his broad shoulders, stared at the road, and sighed mournfully. “Well, I didn’t try to win you back because of my young, foolish ego. You broke up with me. I had too much pride to let you know how I really felt about you.”

  I soaked in his words and searched for the real story. My heart ached at the thought of his pain from our breakup. But was it true? I swallowed hard. I really had no idea that I had even hurt him. I didn’t think he cared; after all, he shut me out after I switched schools. From my perspective, he cut me out of his life and became distant.

  Blake glanced over and met my stare head-on. He looked back at the road. “I’m trying my best to let go of the frustration and the pain from the past. But my question is, can you? Can you meet me halfway?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

  “Can we both put away the things that other people did to hurt us in the past? Including the hurt and pain we caused each other?” he asked.

  “Everything revolves around trust,” I said.

  “I think we can have something special together.” He went on, the words pouring out. “I feel like we have a second chance to see if this works for us.”

  “Each sunrise brings another opportunity.” I laughed. “I must sound like an inspirational poster.”

  “Maybe just a little bit. But today is a new day to get love right. I don’t want to put pressure on us. But I want you to know that I always felt like you were the one who got away. I always looked for you in the women I dated.” He glanced over and smiled. “Maybe this is our time in the universe!”

  “You think our paths crossed again for a reason?”

  He hesitated and when he did speak his voice cracked. “You hurt me in the past, but I want to look forward. Years ago, I tried to pretend you never existed so I could get on with my life. But I couldn’t simply remove your images from my mind. Young love is some powerful stuff.”

  “I don’t think many people forget their first love or the way it hurt when it ended,” I said.

  “We were just kids then,” Blake said. “We didn’t know any better, about any of it. We don’t have that excuse anymore. I know what I like at this point. I’ve seen a lot. And I know you are the best sight I’ve seen.”

  Bewilderment must have flashed across my face, and it was replaced almost immediately with a look of remorse. I didn’t know what to believe.

  For what began to feel like hours, he didn’
t speak. His eyes didn’t blink, as if he were caught up in his memories. Finally, he said, “I did eventually move on. I married a woman I met in the service. We weren’t really compatible, but it felt right at the time. The marriage fell apart quickly. I have dated plenty over the years. But it was more about fun than love. I just stopped becoming emotionally involved because no one else captured my heart.”

  He clicked the windshield wipers on medium, smearing the wet, sticky snow. Even though it was daytime, our car lights were beaming. We drove slowly, cautiously along the winding road. Trucks going in the opposite direction, however, did not slow down, spraying chunks of the wet slosh against the glass.

  Taking in every word, I stared at Blake with my emotions in turmoil. My stomach twisted in knots. Hearing Blake talk about the other women in his life was very difficult for me; it might be tough for any woman. I hadn’t asked earlier because I didn’t want to know. I cringed and looked away.

  There was no point in denying the stab of jealousy I felt at the thought of Blake touching other women. I knew there had been plenty in my absence. He was mine at one point. Was I foolish for letting him go?

  Now he had a lifetime of memories with other women. Could it have just been me all of this time?

  I was not sure what to say to him. Finally, I repeated the words that swirled in my head whenever I looked at him. “I’m sorry. I wish I could get that time back. Maybe if we had talked more—other than me listening to my friends—it would’ve worked out between us. I was angry. Mostly, I was afraid of being hurt, so I hurt you instead.”

  “And you have no idea how much it did.”

  I studied Blake. “My words may seem hollow, but it’s the truth,” I said, trying my best not to display frustration now. I felt my cheeks heat. “It was immature to shut you out completely, without even a discussion about our relationship. I was a coward and broke up in a letter. That was the wrong behavior. I know that now. We should have at least talked about things. I didn’t give you a chance to defend yourself or have any closure.”

  We drove for miles in silence. The freezing rain mixture from earlier had become large flakes. He flipped the wipers from medium to high. Finally, I broke in and said, “Maybe we both learned not to shut the other one out, if we want to make this work? I think we each have enough life lessons behind us that we can get through problems better than when we were younger.”

  He nodded. “Communication is best. Let’s try to talk through problems if we encounter any.”

  I thought the discussion was over, until Blake released a sarcastic laugh. “Ironically, I stood courageously in battle, but now I feel fear. I have decided it’s worth the possibility of hurt and disappointment to try to create a new relationship with you.” There was warmth in his voice as he continued. “It’s scary to open myself up to so much vulnerability, but you’re worth the risk. Even if, in the end, you hurt me twice, it will be better to have loved you twice than to have never loved you at all.”

  I put my hand on Blake’s arm. “I feel thankful to have another chance,” I said.

  A moment later, we pulled up to the resort. I breathed a sigh of relief. The hotel was nestled in a valley next to an enchanting lake—quite an idyllic setting. All around us, snow covered the landscape like a soft blanket. And beyond the lake, we saw soaring white-peaked mountains that provided the backdrop for this picture-perfect scene.

  Blake pulled the car under the portico. “Let’s unload here and check in. Then I’ll park the car,” he said.

  “Thanks, handsome.”

  While unpacking, I began to feel that too-familiar stabbing pain in my side. I bent over, gasping for air. After a few seconds, I staggered around the car in an attempt to hide my sickness.

  And just as quickly as it struck, the wave of suffering passed. My frustration was on maximum. I made a point of resting during our time apart. I wanted to have plenty of energy for this weekend. And I hoped to ward off any further episodes. The pain followed me anyway.

  I glanced around the car at Blake and wondered if it was time to share my secret. Maintaining a facade of normalcy was becoming too much, since I had a secret growing inside me. But when should I tell him?

  When Blake walked over to me, I sighed softly. If only we could share a future together. But I could feel the painful waves growing more intense every time. I knew the cancer was spreading in my body, like weeds taking over a garden. This weekend, I would pretend to be healthy. A mountain getaway was exactly what I needed.

  And as if by magic, upon entering the hotel, I felt a sudden surge of energy—rejuvenation. Carrying my bag, Blake ushered me into the hotel.

  After looking around the lodge, I said, “It’s lovely in here. What would you call this décor, rustic opulence?”

  “You’re the artist. I’m going with your interpretation,” he said, smiling down at me.

  I lifted up on my tiptoes to brush a kiss across his lips. “I’m so excited to be here with you.”

  “Me, too. I can’t wait to get checked in and then check you out.” He winked and then glanced around the lobby.

  While Blake went to the reservation desk, I looked around our homey surroundings. Next to the lobby was a sitting area that had oversized leather chairs and a matching leather sofa. Mixed in the seating area was an assortment of bulky wooden furniture and a pile of magazines. I plopped down in a chair that almost sucked me into the pillowy cushions, picked up the latest issue of Cosmopolitan magazine, and began flipping through the pages.

  A few minutes later, Blake walked up and said, “Take your time and finish reading your magazine. I’ll deliver our bags to the room. Here’s your keycard for our room, 226. See you there.” I nodded, extended my hand, and reached for the key. I only glanced his way out of the corner of my eye, watched him grab my bag and my purse, and then continued reading my article on fall fashions.

  About five minutes later, I snapped my magazine shut, tossed it on the coffee table, and began my search for the room.

  Stepping out of the elevator, I saw a sign, rooms 200-225 to the left and rooms 227-250 to the right. Well, that is odd. What about room 226? Where was it? An uncomfortable sting pulsated through my nervous system. Maybe room 226 was a separate suite, perhaps around the corner? No. Only an alcove with an ice machine.

  I strolled up and down the halls, floundering in disbelief, and continued looking for room 226. I searched the maze of rooms. And searched. In the silence of the corridor, I only heard the faint drumming sound from my beating heart. I could hear my pulse thumping in my ears. Two more laps around the second floor. Now the drums were beating furiously, whooshing through my head.

  After wandering up and down breathlessly for several minutes, a woman with flowing red hair from housekeeping, pushed her cart into the hall. I almost grabbed hold of her cart as I exhaled. “Excuse me, miss, where’s room 226?”

  The plump-faced housekeeper looked at me curiously. She hesitated and then said in what sounded like a French accent, “There’s no room 226 in this hotel. Is that the room you were told? Well, it doesn’t exist.”

  My smile vanished. A visible shiver traveled through me. “Are you okay?” she asked. I must have looked like I was having a seizure. I nodded and walked away without even realizing what I was doing. I know Blake said room 226.

  In haste, I took my phone from my pocket. I punched in Blake’s cell phone number and listened while it rang straight to voicemail, but I refused to leave a message. Maybe I could text him to verify the room number. I sent him a text while clutching my phone, and waited.

  A few agonizing minutes passed. Nothing. No reply. As I walked the corridor, the walls began to feel as if they were closing in on me, constricting me, like a vise—closer, tighter.

  I needed fresh air.

  And then the unthinkable, the possibility of revenge occurred to me. How well did I really know him?

  Had he become the kind of person who could scheme and lure me out on false pretenses? Could he really be an
gry enough to pretend he desired me and wanted to spend time together when in reality he set me up?

  A shiver buzzed through me as if I stepped outside, in this frosty air. Did he lead me to believe we would be vacationing together and then leave? Would he do something so awful?

  I sent another text and waited. Once again, no reply. I called Blake again. When his voicemail answered, I became alarmed. Adrenaline shot through my body. Would he abandon me like an unwanted animal? Am I chasing after Blake like I’m a lost puppy?

  What should I do next? Well, I couldn’t go to the car to look for him because he dropped me off. I had no idea where he parked. He took my purse. He had everything. I stood lost in thought.

  Maybe he had an elaborate plan of cruel vengeance all along. He did tell me he had been angry with me. Did he really do this? Did he just drop me off and go somewhere else or back home?

  Foolishly, I let him take my purse. I trusted him. I thought we had so much fun on our last outing, or was that just a setup to reel me in further? Could he be so spiteful and cruel? Maybe our renewed happiness was all a smoke-screen, a well-laid out plan of revenge. It worked, Blake. This hurts.

  At last, I gave up on the idea of finding Blake or the missing room. I began searching for the front desk to get my answers. I shuffled across the corridor, my head down, becoming dizzy staring at the geometric patterns on the endless stretch of carpet. Around and around I went; I felt lost in a labyrinth.

  With my mind in a fog, I was not sure if I could navigate my way to the front lobby, but somehow I stumbled upon it. I knew I looked pale when I finally reached my destination, leaned across the reservation desk, and with a fretful smile asked, “Where’s room 226?”

  The young man at the front desk combed his nails through his stringy blond hair that hung almost to his shoulders and gave me a blank stare. His booming voice conveyed confidence well beyond his years and didn’t match his skateboarder appearance as he repeated what I had already been told. “Sorry, but there’s no room 226.” I cringed. Chills raced down my back.

  I inspected the lobby as if searching for answers. He just watched me in silence. I avoided eye contact by rotating my head to look at his name tag. “Eddie, why do you have a resort with a missing room number?”