Return to Us

by Corinne Michaels

  I release a deep, slow breath. “They said the same about another person too.”

  Jessica. My mother couldn’t have been happier when we ended things.

  “What’s that saying about if something is right for you, you should let it go?”

  “And if it’s meant to be, it might just come back,” I finish and then look at the door where Jessica exited.

  It seems she did, but I’m not sure either of us are right for each other.

  Chapter 3

  Jessica

  “And how did you feel seeing him again?” Dr. Warvel asks as I play with the fringe on the blanket.

  “It was fine.”

  “Fine, how?”

  “I’m not sure. A part of me is glad it is over. The other part of me is happy that it went as shitty as it did. Your moving work less.”

  As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I can feel the rage burning. It is frustrating and makes me feel inept that I can’t get my mouth to work right. All day, I struggle to keep it together and not allow it to bother me, but in this room, I can be angry.

  She leans forward. “Try again, remember to go slow and stay calm.”

  “I hate this.”

  “I know. Part of what we’re working on is getting your brain to push against itself while also handling all the changes in your life. It’s a lot to deal with, Jessica. You’ve done great so far, but the more you can control your anger, the more likely it will be that your words come out correctly.”

  She’s right. When I’m able to breathe, think it through, and focus, the words come out better.

  Allowing my anger to leave my body in a long breath, I try again. “It was hard seeing him.”

  “Because you have avoided it?”

  “Yes. There was always a part of me that regretted ending things.”

  Dr. Warvel sits back in her chair. “Your first love is always one that hurts the most. At least, for most people. Losing him was your choice, though, correct?”

  “It was the right one.”

  Grayson and I would’ve ended, it was inevitable. We were two kids from very different places, even though we were in the same town. He was two years into the college he was attending in Charlotte, and I was headed to school in Massachusetts. While we could do the distance from Charlotte to Willow Creek, going states away was going to be our demise. Even though I loved him, I needed to end things. I needed to be free from his family and the fear of him leaving me when he saw I wasn’t the girl for him.

  “How did things end?” she asks.

  I focus, keeping my body loose as I start to talk, preparing for my words to jumble but hoping they won’t. “When I went to Massachusetts, I told him that I wouldn’t be returning to Willow Creek—ever. He was always set to take over one of his family’s properties, and that wasn’t what I wanted.”

  Grayson’s family’s properties came with strings, Mr. Parkerson made sure of it. His children were to be with likeminded and financially stable families. Their kids were to elevate them in society, not bring them down with gutter trash like me.

  Never mind that I loved his son. Never mind that I treated him with respect and it wasn’t about the money.

  It didn’t matter. My father was a piece of trash who left. My mother was a member of the Park Inn’s housekeeping staff, which meant I was completely unsuitable.

  “Why wouldn’t you want that?”

  “Because they told me that I was no better than my mother who cleaned their toilets. I was poor, and they would never accept me. And . . . I don’t know . . . he’d leave when he realized I wasn’t good enough. I wanted us to build our own life, travel, get out of this town. I wanted to start new, and he didn’t.”

  “Did you and Grayson ever talk about that?”

  I shake my head. “He was born and bred to take over. That was part of their legacy and each of the kids in his family have something to run. He would always choose them.”

  She writes something in her notepad and then places it on the side table. “You know, I’ve known the Parkersons for a while. I don’t know them well, but I know a bit and then what I’ve observed. Family is important to them, but it’s not everything.”

  “It was back then.”

  “So, you prevented him from hurting you?”

  I nod. “Exactly. I was being strong, making it so he didn’t have to leave me. I left him. And we were young, so it wasn’t going to work anyway.”

  “It doesn’t sound like Grayson chose them. It sounds like you chose for him and then left before he could prove you wrong.”

  “Yeah, I guess I did.”

  Dr. Warvel’s smile is triumphant. “That was easy.”

  “I know what I did. I was young and scared. Also, my father leaving was horrible on my sister and me. It really screwed us up on the rules of dating.”

  “That’s the thing about dating, the rules change, and sometimes, we don’t even know it.” She looks at her watch. “Our time is just about up, but let’s talk about your nightmares. Are they still causing you problems?”

  “Yes.”

  The crash is constant, and I’m exhausted. I’m ready for this nightmare to be over, but no matter what techniques I use, it continues.

  “I see. And the methods we talked about aren’t helping? Are they at least less intense?”

  “No, they’re worse. I hover on the edge of consciousness most of the time. Like, I can feel them as though it’s real.”

  “Okay. I want you to try something. When you wake up, I want you to write it all down. Every detail from the dream, not what you remember from the actual crash, but only what you recall from the dream.”

  “Well, the dream is the memory of the crash.”

  She lifts one shoulder. “Humor me.”

  “Okay.” I get to my feet and take a step before she stops me.

  “I’d like to tell you we had a very intense conversation and you were able to control your speech very well.”

  There is a huge sense of victory running through my veins. I was able to get through this session much better than the last. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Part of what we do here is deal with the things that we’ve buried or don’t like to discuss. I’m giving you some time so you’re not blindsided, but we need to discuss your father next session.”

  My entire body tightens. I’ve done everything I can in the last sixteen years to rid that man from my life. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Then we’ll talk about that next week.”

  I’m lying on the couch, trying to watch the movie Jacob sent me when I admitted I’d never really watched his movies.

  I grab my phone and send him a text.

  Me: They paid you far too much to make this film.

  Jacob: Ha! Don’t I know it.

  Me: You’re very lucky you’re so pretty.

  Jacob: Don’t forget I smell like oak and whiskey. It was probably that.

  And now I want to die. Of all the things he remembers, it has to be that I said that. I blame my brain bleed for it.

  Me: What is said during a near-death experience should not be held against those who almost died.

  Jacob: But you didn’t die, therefore that rule is null and void.

  Me: Tell Brenna I said you’re a pain in the ass.

  Jacob: I don’t have to tell her, she knows.

  Since the crash, Jacob and I have kept in touch. The entire flight crew has. He offered to have me stay on his family farm in Pennsylvania while I recovered, but that was far too much of an inconvenience for him. Instead, I’m here, living it up on my mother’s couch in North Carolina. Lucky me.

  Me: Well, I just wanted to let you know your movie is subpar.

  Jacob: Noted. How was therapy today?

  It’s really sad that a Hollywood star knows my entire life’s schedule.

  Me: It was fine.

  Jacob: Brenna said you’re always welcome to talk to her.

  Because that wouldn’t be awk
ward at all. There is nothing even remotely inappropriate about my and Jacob’s friendship, but there’s no way I want to spill my guts about the crash to her. She’s dealing with his trauma, whether he wants to think he has any or not.

  Me: I appreciate it.

  There’s a slight ringing in my ear, which is the early signs of a possible migraine. I am so fucking over this. I’m tired of my head and all the nonsense that comes along with this injury. There’s no timeline to recovery either. I could wake up tomorrow and be healed or I could still be dealing with it years from now.

  My neurologist keeps saying how the brain doesn’t work like a broken bone. There’s no telling how long it’ll take to heal. Or if it ever will.

  I get up, turn the television off, and go to the kitchen. I drain two big glasses of water, knowing that, if I’m dehydrated, it makes it worse. Then I take my medication and head out to the porch swing.

  I grab the pillow and blanket, close my eyes, and let the quiet surround me.

  “And I thought you never napped?” A deep voice causes my eyes to fly open.

  I sit up much too fast, hand resting on my throat. “Jesus!”

  “Sorry,” Grayson says with a smile. “I knocked and was getting ready to leave when I heard you snore.”

  “I don’t snore,” I say as I try to focus on a fixed point to stop the spinning.

  “Next time, I’ll record you to prove otherwise.”

  I should’ve picked something other than Grayson to be my fixed point. Now, I look like I’m staring, which I am just not for the reason he probably thinks I am.

  The aqua-blue in his eyes mixes with the green, making them look like the ocean as you fly over. My lips part, and I’m taken back to when those eyes did strange things to my belly. One look from him would make any girl feel cherished.

  And he did cherish me. He was a great boyfriend, I was just too young to know how to handle the obstacles thrown our way.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice a little breathy.

  “I wanted to come and actually talk. Last week . . . wasn’t my finest moment.” He leans against the rail, head tilted so it rests on the pillar as though he’s got nothing but time. The casual stance is at war with the apprehension in his eyes.

  “I appreciate that, but it’s fine. You didn’t say anything wrong.”

  “No, Jess, we were friends and I cared about you. I was a complete and total asshole.”

  “Yeah, you kind of were.”

  He looks at his feet. “I’m sorry.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  “I didn’t know,” he says, looking away. “I didn’t know about the crash.”

  “Oh.”

  I’m not sure what to say to that. It doesn’t really matter either way. Him knowing or not knowing doesn’t change anything.

  He pushes off the rail, coming a little closer and then stopping. “Are you okay?”

  No. Not even a little. “I’m getting there.”

  And I guess I am. Little by little, I’m going to find my way through it. I have a great support system and doctors who are all doing what they can. As I heal, I’ll find ways to be better and stronger. At least, that’s the bullshit I’m feeding myself.

  “Good. So, like I said, I don’t want things to be awkward.”

  “You really don’t have to worry. It was a shock to both of us—seeing each other after all these years.”

  Grayson runs his hands through his thick, dark hair. It’s longer than he wore it when we were kids. It’s not long, but it curls right at the ends, giving him a sexy-but-serious look.

  After seeing him, I made Delia unload about everything she knows. It was years of gossip around the Parkerson family that left me shocked. I can only imagine how they handled the drama of his girlfriend getting pregnant and then leaving. His father was all about propriety.

  “It was, but this town is small, so we’re bound to see each other a lot.”

  “That’s a shame,” I say with a shrug.

  “Yeah? Why is that?” He stands up straight, no longer looking like he had nothing but time.

  I grin, hoping that maybe if we can joke with each other, we’ll find a way onto neutral ground. “You were much cuter back then.”

  Grayson’s laughter is deep and rich. “You were sweeter then.”

  “You were smarter than to say something like that.”

  “I was also trying to get into your pants.”

  “Which you did,” I remind him.

  “Many times.”

  I roll my eyes with a smile. “Yeah, and if I recall you were not—”

  “Don’t say it!” He chuckles as he moves closer. “I was terrible, but in my defense, I was sixteen and we were both a little bad at it.”

  God, we were just two fumbling teenagers, watching really bad movies on what to do and not mimicking the act all that well.

  “We were, but we loved each other.”

  Grayson’s laugh is more like a huff. “We did. And then you left.”

  No point in either of us trying to beat around the bush. I hurt him, and regardless of how much time has passed, there was never closure. “I’m sorry.”

  Grayson looks over. “I’m sorry that I didn’t stop by when you got back. I didn’t know, Jess—about the crash. I would’ve come to see if you were okay.”

  I glance over at his profile. “Why? I left you. You owe me nothing, and I didn’t take offense to it.”

  “You leaving me was a million years ago, right?”

  “It sure—” The words get caught in my throat. I know this will pass, but it has been so nice feeling a little like myself. “Sorry. Sometimes my brain needs to pause so I can speak again,” I explain.

  “Take all the time you need.”

  “Since I never plan to venture off this porch again, I may take longer than you want.”

  “You’re planning to stay here?” Grayson asks with a smirk.

  I shrug. “It’s better than going out there right now when I can’t speak or drive or anything. All I want is to work or have something meaningful, but I’m broken, so I’ll stay put.”

  Grayson sits beside me, nudging me gently. “That’s not the girl I knew. She was fearless, ready to conquer the world.”

  Sadness creeps over me, blanketing the joyful banter we were just having. “She isn’t the same anymore.”

  “Are any of us?”

  I look at him, wondering what has made Grayson who he is now. “No, I guess not.”

  He gives me a sad smile and then gets back up. “I should go. I have to pick up Amelia.”

  “Is that your daughter?”

  Delia filled me in, but she never mentioned her name.

  A bright smile warms his face. God, he’s still insanely attractive when he smiles. The dimple on his left cheek makes my heart ache.

  “She is. She’s four.” He takes out his phone, swiping to show the little girl on his home screen.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “And a handful.”

  I laugh, imagining how much she probably has him wrapped around her finger. I know that, at her age, I was all Daddy’s girl. There was nothing he would deny me as long as I batted my eyelashes and grinned.

  “Most girls know how to work their fathers.”

  “Oh, she’s got my number.”

  “She’s lucky she has you, Gray.”

  “I hope so because I’m all she has.”

  I want to ask all the questions, but I’m exhausted, and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep my brain cooperating. I lean back against the pillow and exhale.

  “Take a nap. It was good to see you. I mean that.” Grayson heads down the porch steps and gets to his car. “Now that you’re back in town and we’ve talked, I’ll stop by again.”

  I sit up and raise my voice so he can hear. “I’d like that, bring Amelia, I’d love to meet her and tell her all the stories you would rather she never know.”

  His deep laughter fills the air and th
en he gets in his car, driving away.

  What a strange but hopeful day.

  Chapter 4

  Grayson

  “Thanks for watching her, Stella.”

  My sister leans down, tapping Amelia’s nose. “It’s nothing. I love spending time with my Melia. Not to mention, she loves her auntie.”

  She does because my sister spoils her rotten, which I guess is one of the perks of being an aunt.

  “Still, you dropped everything, and I appreciate it.”

  “I was going shopping with Winnie, not solving world peace. Plus, doing these things allows me opportunities to collect debts in the future from you four boneheads.”

  Regardless of what she says, Stella is the princess of the family and has loved having four brothers who are willing to slay any dragon for her. Joshua would’ve killed me, Alexander, or Oliver if anything happened to her.

  This girl is able to get whatever she wants and loves every second of it.

  “You have a very skewed memory of your childhood.”

  She laughs once. “Please, you all made it so I could never have any fun!”

  “I recall you having a little too much fun at a few parties.”

  As much as my sister would like to think otherwise, she was a damn mess. If it weren’t for us covering for her, she would’ve been in a lot of trouble.

  “Because you all were a bunch of saints?”

  “Not even close. That was why we knew what was going on when you tried to tell us one of your horrible excuses.”

  Stella shakes her head. “I feel bad for you, Gray. Melia is going to grow up and be just like me one day.”

  A shudder runs through me. “She’ll date when I’m dead.”

  “Pretty sure Dad thought the same thing.”