Living with Regrets (No Regrets book 2)

by Aimee Noalane

  At dinner time Jacob ordered us some rotisserie chicken. It wasn’t much of a Christmas feast, but it was a lot better than the dried up turkey and mashed potatoes the hospital served. During dinner, I learned more about his relationship with my mother. Jacob was a year older than her, and apparently, they’d dated when they were in high school for almost a year. He had broken off their relationship a few months before my mother started her last year of high school. He left the country to study in the United States, and they eventually lost touch.

  Jacob, who just recently moved to Ottawa, was now the sales director of the pharmaceutical company Uncle Henry used to do research for. It was Meg and Peter who had reintroduced them. Peter, who also worked for the same company, thought it would be a good idea to set them up on a blind double date. I smiled as they recounted their story. It was weird how my mother’s lost love reminded me of my own life.

  “Are you getting sleepy?” she asked when I yawned for the fifth time in ten minutes.

  “I think so. You’d think waking up from a three-day coma would have been sufficient rest to be able to stay awake for a day, but I can’t seem to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time.”

  She smiled. “Give yourself some time, honey. Do you want me to stay with you tonight?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’ll be fine. You and Jacob go home and rest.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t mind staying.”

  “I’m positive.” I stretched out for a hug. “Go get some sleep. I love you.”

  “Love you too. Sweet dreams.”

  Yeah… I wish…

  ···

  I dreamt about the little girl again. She sat comfortably, swinging under my willow tree with a blue orchid in her dark brown hair.

  Sitting down on the ground facing her, I admired her. I felt as though I was staring at the reflection of my younger self. She looked exactly like me, except her eyes were different; they were dark and sombre, which was the complete opposite of how she appeared to be. She had the most joyful voice. Even though I couldn’t understand a word she was saying, I was completely engrossed in her story. I listened to her talk and I smiled. I was in utter adoration of this child, who couldn’t be more than five years old. As she chatted away, I admired her beautiful face, her small freckles, her many facial expressions that I couldn’t help beaming at.

  I heard the footsteps behind me, and turned my attention away from the little girl only to see Oliver standing on the other side of the branches. My heart did somersaults as I watched him cross the falling leaves of the willow tree. Reaching out for my hand, he looked at the both of us. I felt relief when the little angel’s dark eyes lit up. Oliver didn’t say a word, but when he made it by my side, he held me and kissed my cheek tenderly.

  I felt safe.

  I felt complete.

  The little girl started to fade away, but before she completely disappeared, my eyes fell on hers as she watched Oliver and me finally together. She smiled. It was the first time I had seen her happy in any of my dreams.

  Confronted

  Abbygail

  When I woke up, it was past midnight, and I had an unexpected visitor sitting by my side. He was reading a car magazine under the soft glow of the night table. I observed him quietly until I saw his dimple rise.

  “How long are you going to stare at me like that before you say anything?” he asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know… until you tell me how annoying I am, I guess.”

  Stephan gave me a crooked grin. “You’re annoying.”

  “But that’s why you love me,” I chuckled. “So what are you reading?”

  “Salivating is more accurate.” He showed me the picture he was looking at in his magazine. It was a 1970 Dodge Charger; his very own personal dream car. “Some guy came to the bar with one a few weeks ago. He told me he wanted to sell it; I’ve been debating buying it ever since.”

  “Oh, you should definitely buy it. I’d look good sitting in the front seat with my feet up on the dash board. Don’t you think?”

  “You might look good, but there is no way in hell you’re putting your stinky feet on my front dash.”

  “My feet don’t stink,” I replied, offended.

  “Debatable!”

  I looked for something to chuck at his face, but then my eyes landed on the blue raspberry slushy on the table, and I stalled.

  “Merry Christmas.”

  I frowned.

  “Apparently, it’s your favorite flavor now. It was his way of making it up to you.”

  I knew Stephan was looking for a reaction. I chose to ignore him—well, at least, I tried to. I was fuming.

  Why? Why would he ask Stephan to bring me this shit?

  “He had to leave yesterday, and he wanted me to tell you he’s sorry he couldn’t be there when you woke up. He had some kind of work emergency at home he needed to attend to before Christmas.”

  Good.

  “You look relieved.”

  “I am.”

  I picked up the glass, scrunching my nose to the sour syrupy smell. “Are you going to drink this?”

  “It’s melted.”

  “That wasn’t my question.”

  He grimaced at the melted drink. “I’ll pass. Thanks.”

  I took the plastic cup to the bathroom sink and poured it down the drain as I so often did.

  “Why does Oliver think blue raspberry slush is your favorite flavor?” Stephan asked as I made my way back to my bed. “We all know you hate it.”

  “Because I told him it was.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a long story, and I don’t feel like talking about it. Do you want to lie down with me?

  “The bed is kind of small.”

  “Again,” I rolled my eyes, “you’re not answering my question.”

  “Well, you’re not answering mine either.”

  I gave him an expectant look. “Are you coming or not?”

  He took off his shoes and climbed in with me. He laid on his back while I settled myself in the crook of his shoulder. He was right: the bed was pretty small for two people. I wasn’t going to complain, though, otherwise, I wouldn’t hear the end of it. I squirmed trying to find a comfortable position and felt the soft rumble of his chest as he quietly chuckled.

  “Shut up.”

  “I hope you know I’m only doing this because I love you,” he said when I finally stopped moving.

  “Of course I do.” I hugged him. “And I hope you know that I appreciate it.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “Way to show your affection for your best friend.”

  I laughed as he pretended to push me away. “I’m kidding. I love your bossy ass, too.” I kissed his cheek. “So tell me, why aren’t you with Kylie tonight?”

  Part of me feared that they were already on their first fight.

  “Because my best friend got attacked by a maniac woman a few nights ago, and she just woke up from her three-day coma.”

  “But it’s Christmas.”

  “I know it is, and I want to spend it with you. I hardly see the problem with that.”

  “I do. It’s your first holiday as a re-couple.”

  “A re-couple?” he mocked. “You do know that being knocked on the head doesn’t give you the authority to invent words, right?”

  “Screw you!” I chortled, and punched him lightly in the ribs. “You know what I meant.”

  He pretended to flinch. “No one could guess you’ve been in a coma for so many days.”

  “Stop whining. That didn’t even hurt.”

  He laughed, and squeezed me reassuringly. “It’s one holiday, Abs. There will be plenty more. Kylie and I are doing great. Now, tell me about the blue raspberry.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?

  He shook his head.

  “Fine. It was my way of telling him it was okay for him to move on.”

  He raised his eyebrow. “
You two are so weird.”

  “Call us what you want: it worked.”

  “It didn’t work, Abbygail. You’re not moving on.”

  “So?”

  “So? You’re lying to him, and you’re lying to yourself. What’s it going to take for you to realize that he’s the one who makes you happy?”

  He stretched out reaching for the frame Tyler gave me earlier that day.

  “Tell me what you see.”

  I took the picture out of his hands and put it back on the table beside me. Turning my back to Stephan, I rested my head on my pillow and observed Oliver and me smiling at one another. I already knew he made me happy—that was never the question…

  “I miss him.”

  “Then maybe you should tell him.”

  Stephan turned to my side and engulfed me with his strong arms, exactly like he did the first night we spent together when Oliver left home over six years ago.

  “Hey, babe?” he whispered as I started to drift into another set of dreams.

  “Yeah?” I yawned.

  “Why are you happy Oliver left?”

  I sighed. I wasn’t happy he left. I would have loved for him to be here with me instead of Stephan. It’s not that I didn’t appreciate my best friend’s presence, but waking up to Oliver’s chestnut eyes would have been everything I ever wanted.

  “Because if Oliver is in BC,” I stretched out and shut the light off, “Cole’s mother can’t hurt him.”

  ···

  I got sent home the day after Christmas. Dr. Pearson demanded I keep it cool for a few days and to call him at the office if my headaches became more frequent or increased in intensity. He also asked that I go to his clinic for a scheduled follow up exam a few days after my release. His recommendations suited me fine: the faster I got out of the hospital the happier I would be.

  “I don’t think you’ve ever sat here with me before,” I said to my mother as she took a seat with me under the willow tree.

  It was my second night out from the hospital. She baked me her famous chipotle mac and cheese for dinner. It tasted exactly like home—the only thing that was missing to make it perfect lived thousands of kilometers away.

  She shrugged. “I don’t think that I have. I bet it’s pretty nice when it isn’t minus ten degrees out.”

  I chuckled. My mother was never much of an outdoorsy person, especially not in the winter.

  “When do you need to get back to work?”

  “I don’t know. I’m going to call Dylan tomorrow morning and ask for a few weeks off. I don’t need to be in school until after the Christmas break, and I doubt taking some vacation time from the rec center should be a problem.”

  “I think that’s a good idea, Abby. And are you going to see Dr. Pearson tomorrow?”

  I nodded.

  “Do you still have headaches?

  “Kind of, but I only took the pain killers twice today. Hey, Mom, have you heard from Oliver lately?”

  “Yes. He called me on Christmas morning. Why?”

  I shrugged in disappointment. “I don’t know. I feel like he’s been avoiding me.”

  She gave me a side look. “I bet he feels the same about you. Have you called him to let him know you were out of the hospital?”

  I shook my head.

  Her annoyed expression spoke her frustrated words, but it didn’t stop her from speaking her mind. “He sat by your bedside for three days straight, Abby. I doubt that it’s avoidance.”

  A cool breeze blew past us and I shivered. Between being admitted at the hospital and being released, the cold had officially decided to settle in. Just like my mother, winter wasn’t my favorite season. It didn’t stop me from spending time outside, but it definitely shortened my visits in my mother’s backyard.

  “Mom, I know I’ve been holding off for a while, but can we talk about Oliver’s letters now?”

  “You’re the one who told me to keep quiet about them. Why are you asking me? It’s all I’ve been waiting for.”

  “Any reason why you are being sarcastic about this?” I asked irritated.

  “Because it’s been a month, Abby. It’s about freaking time.”

  “Yeah, well, I had things to figure out.”

  “I’m sure you did, but it doesn’t excuse you fleeing everyone you know…”

  “Actually, it does. It prevents me from answering annoying questions,” I replied with a tight smile.

  She knew very well that arguing about my lack of presence in her or my friend’s lives was useless. Avoiding people or important conversations was something I’d done ever since my dad walked out on us. The only person who knew how to get me to talk was Oliver.

  “Abbygail, I’m sorry I kept the letters from you. They were yours, and I should have given them to you a long time ago.”

  “Then why didn’t you?”

  She looked forlorn. “Because I thought I was protecting you. You were already going through so much… Abby, I didn’t know he wrote back to you until much later. I thought he was returning your letters because he wanted to cut himself out of your life. When I read them and realized what they were, you looked like you were doing better, so I decided to keep them hidden. I thought that if you ever found out how he truly felt about you, you’d never move on.”

  “I’ve tried to move on my entire life, Mom. Had you given me the letters, I would have realized that I didn’t need to. You had no right to make the decision for me.”

  “According to you, maybe, but I’m your mother, Abbygail. I did what I thought was best at the time.”

  “I thought he hated me, Mom. I thought my best friend wanted nothing to do with me. Do you know how much that hurt? Do I need to remind you what kind of a mess I was back then?”

  “I’m sorry,” she faltered. “I swear I didn’t see it the way you did. You never said anything—”

  “You never asked. All you did was assume. You never asked me about anything. When you decided to keep those letters from me, you took away my life choices. I loved him.”

  “I know.”

  “So that’s why you didn’t give me the letters,” I replied angry.

  Sheltered by the branches from the tree, I watched the light snow intensify. I waited. When she didn’t answer and I knew I’d hit home, I shook my head in disbelief.

  “What do you think would have happened if you’d read his letters back then?” she asked, fixating on the emptiness beyond our backyard.

  I shrugged.

  “Well then, let me explain it to you. Had you taken one look at what Oliver wrote six years ago, you would have booked the next flight to BC, and left everything you ever worked for behind.”

  “And how could that possibly be a bad thing? I’m pretty sure Aunt Evelynn would have loved taking care of me for a few months.”

  “In the state you were in? I doubt it. And I wouldn’t have let you. She had enough to suffer through at the time; she couldn’t deal with your issues.”

  I glared at her. “I wouldn’t have had issues because I would have had Oliver. I would have been happy.”

  “Happy? Really, Abby? For how long?”

  “What does that even mean, for how long? Oliver was my life!”

  “And you think that whatever you two had would have lasted?”

  “We were best friends—there was nothing to outlast—and if you’re insinuating about us being a couple, well then we’ll never know, now, will we?”

  Her saddened eyes turned to face mine. “Honey, I get that you’re upset about this, and I understand why you would think I screwed up some aspects of your life, but Abbygail, I did what I could. I wanted you to live your life. I wanted you to learn how to be you without him.”

  “I hate how you make it sound like us being apart was a good thing.”

  “That’s because I do. And somewhere deep down, I know that you kind of think so, too. Abby, you and Oliver are two of the strongest people I know. In your own way, the both of you have suffered through so much loss, ye
t you find a way to open your hearts and help everyone around you. You learned to do that on your own.”

  I smiled, slightly appreciating her compliments.

  “Abbygail, I’m sorry for some of the choices I’ve made for you. Without knowing or wanting to, I hurt you, but sweetheart, I’ll never regret any of them. They made you who you are. You are one amazing human being, Abbygail Evens, and I really hope that one day you’ll be able to see you like I do.”

  I let the fresh tears roll down my cheeks while thinking about everything my mother shared. She seemed rueful, and I decided it was useless to keep a grudge over this. Part of me understood why she did it, but it didn’t take away the fact that it hurt.

  I looked at her. “Mom, I get it. I was a mess and you’re probably right, but part of me still feels like you had so many other opportunities to tell me.”

  “Come on, Abby…when were those opportunities? When you were on drugs and alcohol or partying with the too many different guys that were in and out of your life? Or during the only stable loving relationship you had with Tyler?”

  “That’s not fair!” I spat.

  “Maybe, but it’s the truth.” She raised her eyebrow waiting for me to contradict her. “Besides, do you really think I’m going to accept the blame for the two of you being separated for the past six years? Abbygail, you need to remember that regardless of my decision to keep the letters from you, you had no reason not to contact each other over the phone or online. The two of you chose to remain indifferent to each other and your feelings. Have you ever thought that maybe you two just weren’t ready to confront one another? That maybe now is the right time?”

  “Why did you decide to give me the letters then?”

  “Because when he came home to you, you hated him.”

  “I was mad. Seeing him in our house again, just like that, no consequences for neglecting me, stepping back into my life like nothing ever happened between us… it hurt.”

  “That’s the thing, though, Abby… he hurt, too. Whatever happened between the both of you back then impacted his life just as much. I told him to give you the letters because he deserves the forgiveness and you deserve the truth.”