Best of 2017

by Alexa Riley

  I can’t be with him. It wouldn’t be fair. I’m not the woman I should be yet, and he deserves that woman. I deserve to be that woman as well. I need to come to him complete, not broken parts of myself.

  I need to be strong. I need to prove to him that I can stand on my own two feet. That this isn’t transference. That I’m not in love with him because of some void I’m filling.

  Although my heart hurts to walk away, I know I have to. Not only for my growth, but also for his.

  He might not think he has counter transference, but a small part of him still thinks he does.

  We both need to find ourselves.

  When the time comes after I have grown, and if the feelings are still there, we can see what happens, but right now my priority is me, and he needs to make peace with his own tragedy.

  With a trembling hand, I start to write. And when I’m done, my shaking fingers take the letter and tuck it into my journal. I wonder if this is where our story ends. Will this be my only gift to him?

  My journal.

  All of what’s in my heart.

  Turning around, I walk away. I can’t look back. I know if I do, I’ll never go.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  PRESTON

  ROLLING ACROSS THE BED, I reach out for Eve. To hold her body tight to me, to feel her warm body beneath me. As my hand searches her out, I come up with nothing and the spot is cold. My eyes fly open but I’m met with emptiness.

  Where is she? I start to get up from the bed to find her when everything inside me stills. There, siting next to my side of the bed is a journal. But it’s not my journal. It doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to her. I move swiftly to grab it. To understand why she left it here. And as I open it a piece of paper falls to the bed.

  Dear Preston,

  I have written and rewritten this letter, and the truth is I will never truly be able to tell you how hard it is for me to write it.

  In the last few months you have helped me learn so much about myself and have inspired me to find my happiness. You are my happiness, but to have you right now would be selfish and unfair to you. I love you. But what I have learned is that sometimes love isn’t enough. Sometimes it’s not nearly enough.

  Thank you for believing in me before I knew how to believe in myself.

  Please don’t forget me. One day I hope to be in your arms again, a healed woman. A complete woman. I won’t forget you, either. For as long as I live, I will love you.

  But now, I’m setting you free.

  Eve

  SHE LEFT ME. She fucking left me. My heart pounds in my chest from the emotions raging inside me. Set me free? I’m not free. I’ll never be free, not when she owns my heart. Not when these words she’s written have ripped me into a million pieces. It feels as if there’s a wind whipping through my heart, pulling it apart and shredding it to pieces. The feelings drag me under until I fear I might never survive this storm.

  I lie back in my bed. Hours must pass as I let it all sink in. As I realize it wasn’t enough. I might have tried to give it all up for her, but it wasn’t enough. I was too late. I’m not able to comprehend what to do now. How do I move on from this? How do I let her go? Do I fight for her? Despite what she says, should I fight? But then my rational side kicks in. She’s right. I know she’s right. I have to let her leave. She needs space to figure out who she is and to believe in herself. She needs to focus on rebuilding her relationship with her mom and forgiving her dad. Doesn’t mean it won’t break me apart every day for the time that separates us. I know it will. But I’m willing to risk it, because there is no question that I love her. Why do we fall in love with people we can’t have? Maybe I can’t have her today, but I have to have faith that maybe one day we’ll have a future. We are two pieces of a puzzle and eventually we will be put back together.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  EVE

  I WOULD BE LYING if I didn’t admit to myself why I was walking past Thirty-Fifth Street. Sometimes I find myself walking past his street when I want to feel close to him, when I want to remember the lessons I learned when seeing him. Today, I need his strength. Today marks three months since I’ve seen him and I need to find the strength to get out of my funk and make a change. Every day since I got the referrals from Preston, I have stared at the names, but I haven’t found the strength to call them. I know I have to, but I put it off. Sydney thinks I’m holding off for some crazy notion that Preston will charge in and demand I change my mind. I know he won’t. He can’t. Deep down, he knows this is right.

  Today I walk down Park, and as usual I peer down the street. That’s when I see him. He’s across the street. Preston. The man I can’t get out of my head, and worse, the one I can’t get out of my heart. I squint my eyes to get a better look. He’s perched on the stoop. His head is bowed and fine lines paint his forehead.

  When he finally lifts his head, the look in his eyes haunts me. They speak of a deep-rooted pain that I could never imagine. I put that pain there, and I would do anything in my power to take it away, but it wouldn’t be fair to go to him now. Not when I’m still so screwed up and when we still can’t be together. No. Today isn’t the right time. But hopefully it soon will be, and I know what I have to do.

  Lifting my hand, my fingers find the necklace he gave me and I stroke it gently. It’s time I stop hiding. It’s time I face my nightmares and learn to forgive. Today is the day I make the change.

  I turn on my heel before he catches me looking and walk in the other direction, leaving a part of me on that corner with him, but vowing to find all the other pieces and put myself back together.

  I scan the intersection from right to left. There are a few choices I can make. Home to pretend my life isn’t happening and continue to hide in my bed, or send Sydney a text and finally start living again. Seeing Preston makes my heart hurt, but I also know he wouldn’t want me to be sad. So I pick up my phone and send a message to Sydney.

  Me: Bar?

  Sydney: Hell yes.

  Me: Ten minutes?

  Sydney: DONE!

  The Corner Bar is packed as usual. From across the room, I see Sydney waving at me. My mouth spreads into a large smile. For the first time in a long time, I feel as if I might be okay.

  “What up, chica!” Sydney throws her arms around my neck and starts bouncing up and down “I’ve missed you.”

  “Syd, you do know we live together right? You see me every day. How can you miss me?”

  “Eve.” Her eyes narrow. “You have been in a funk for weeks. I wouldn’t call that living anywhere.”

  “You’re right. But I’m back now.”

  “Well, you know what that means?”

  “Tequila shots?” I flash her a megawatt smile and she starts to laugh.

  “A girl after my own heart.” Sydney turns to Austin. “Two shots of Patron, extra chilled,” she exclaims.

  He comes back and places the two chilled shots in front of us.

  “Celebrating something?” he winks.

  “No,” I say as Sydney says yes. I turn my attention back and quirk an eyebrow.

  “We are?”

  “Yep.”

  “And what, pray tell, are we celebrating?”

  “You, of course,” she replies.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s good to have you back.” She smiles and I grab the shot and take a swig.

  “It’s good to be back.” I nod. It is. And tomorrow, first thing, I’ll call the names on the list.

  “What are you smiling about?” Sydney asks.

  “Nothing. Just happy, I guess.” And for the first time in a long time, I do feel happy. I feel hope. Because I know what I need to do and I’m going to do it. I’m going to stop running from my past. I’ll confront my fears and figure out me, and that is worth celebrating.

  ONCE AGAIN I stand at the precipice of change, but this time instead of walking into Preston’s office, I find myself in a small room, waiting to see my new therapist. He
r name is Dr. Beckett, and from the look of things, she will be nothing like Dr. Montgomery. Where he was upscale, this space is homey. Comfy couches line the walls of what seems to be an old parlor of a brownstone in the west village. It’s quaint and feels like home.

  With everything I’ve been through, I welcome it. Dr. Beckett wasn’t on the list Preston gave me. I needed a clean break. So I asked around the office, only this time I didn’t hide that I’m having a hard time coping with Richard’s death and some other things in my life. Surprisingly, everyone was supportive. And now that they knew my mom had no interest in taking control, they reach out more and more. It isn’t only Sydney and myself for lunch anymore. Now Natalie comes along, and Barry too. After apologizing for harassing me, he really isn’t that bad.

  Today begins the next step in my journey. I’m not sure how this new story will end, but I hope eventually it leads me back to Preston. All I can do is take a deep breath and vow to conquer my fears and learn to forgive.

  The door creaks open and out walks a taller middle-aged woman.

  “Hello, Eve. I’m Dr. Beckett.”

  “Hi,” I say as I stand and extend my hand.

  “Are you ready?” She smiles and I nod.

  I am. I finally am.

  AS MY SESSIONS with Dr. Beckett come and go, the weather turns from sweltering to brisk days. Orange and red bleed from the leaves and the air is crisp with fall fragrances. The weeks have turned into months. We talk about everything. Well, everything except Preston Montgomery. He’s one topic I won’t breach. I keep our time together tucked firmly in my own heart and memory.

  Right now the focus is on me. I’m working on forgiving Mom and Richard for lying to me. Richard’s omission of the truth has been easier for me to move past. He was in an unimaginable situation and made the only choice he thought he could. It’s taken me a long time to forgive Mom, and an even longer time to forgive my dad.

  Day by day and week by week, I get closer to forgiveness. Like Preston said, I’d never understand the pressure he was under. But little by little I move past the anger and open my heart to love.

  Today is a day to move forward.

  “Mom, are you decent? Are you dressed?” I say as I knock on the door.

  “Yes.”

  “I have someone here to talk to us. Can we come in?”

  “Um,” she mumbles through the door. I crack it open a little. “I’m a little dizzy.”

  “I know, Mom, but it will be fast. She just wants to talk to you. We want to talk to you together. Dr. Beckett thinks it will be good for us. I think so too. We can no longer let our future be dictated by our fear of the past. We need to move forward.”

  “Okay,” she croaks out.

  Dr. Beckett and I walk through the door and into the room. Mom is sitting on the bed. I had called previously and warned her that she should be dressed today. I’m happy to see she is in lounge pants and T-shirt. She’s even wearing a light dusting of makeup. She’s trying, and that thought makes tears fill my eyes.

  We sit in the chairs situated along the window inside her room. She stays where she is. Dr. Beckett begins, and then we let my mom talk. For the first time in as long as I can remember, she tells me what it was like to be married to Dad. I sit with welled eyes as she relates stories she never shared before. Tears pour down my face at the idea that they were once in love. That my mom was once more then she is. It’s almost too much to take in, but as I do, something strange happens. I find myself laughing, smiling and forgiving.

  When Dr. Becket asks me if I have anything to say, I do.

  “Mom, it’s time you forgive yourself. It wasn’t your fault. Every year that passes, a bigger part of you dies. Your guilt has eaten away at you. It has to stop. Every day that we have is a gift. You need to keep living for Dad. You need to live for yourself. And for me. I need you to be my mother. I need to know you’re there.” She nods and we sit in silence. Eventually, I take her hand in mine and ask her softly if she can tell me how she met my father and she does.

  The stories encompass topics of all types, from hobbies they had to all the places they traveled. After the moisture on my face evaporates, it makes me happy to think of a better time. Hearing her stories reminds me a little of Preston. He’s the reason this is happening right now. He was the catalyst for me doing this. In order to go to him in the future, I need to heal my past. This is the first step—my mom and I forgiving ourselves. This won’t be an overnight success. It’ll take time before she can talk again about what happened that night. But I’m willing to try. I’m willing to wait.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  EVE

  TEN MONTHS LATER . . .

  Stepping inside Paradise Diner, I prepare for the impending assault of memories. They wash over me like a tidal wave but I embrace them. Losing Richard. Meeting Preston . . . walking away, and then gaining my strength, it all led me here to this moment. Having spent the past ten months focusing on myself, I’m finally ready to face my fears . . . to face him. Every week that I’ve seen Dr. Beckett, I’ve grown stronger, and today I’m ready to confront the man I had to walk away from. I’ve come here with a purpose. It’s not by accident I’m here at the very place I know he frequents. We have unfinished business that I intend to resolve. Perhaps it isn’t fair that I’m ambushing him, but I need him to look at me and see that I’m better.

  As I wait, I peer toward the window and watch as people pass by. A young couple walks hand in hand, and my heart swells at the sight. Months ago seeing this might have hurt me, but not now. I’m ready for what they have.

  To live. To breath. To love.

  My lips part into a smile as I watch them fade into the horizon, a sigh escaping my mouth. The chime above the door rings and pulls me out of my thoughts. I don’t have to look to know who’s walked in. The air has shifted around me.

  I’ve imagined this moment so many times. Replayed how I would respond to seeing him again, but as often as I fantasized about this moment, I’m finding myself ill prepared for the emotions coursing through me.

  My eyes find him. God, he looks gorgeous. As if no time has passed. His shoulders are pulled back and he’s wearing a blue hoodie and jeans. I love him like this. I’m reminded of our trip together. The weekend I began to fall in love with him. A stolen moment where we were able to live in our bubble and just enjoy each other with no consequences.

  I want to run to him.

  I want to jump into his arms.

  Kiss him madly.

  Never let him go.

  I hold back the tears of joy that threaten to fall from my eyes.

  He walks towards me, but hasn’t yet seen me. The closer he gets, the more I have to secure myself to the seat as to not make a fool of myself.

  Patience. You’ve waited this long.

  He twists his body speaking to someone behind him. As he turns back around, I get a peek at who he’s talking to and my heart stops. All of the oxygen leaves my body and an all-encompassing sadness slithers its way inside me.

  He’s not alone.

  She’s tall and lithe. Long brown hair cascades down her back in waves.

  She’s beautiful.

  The woman says something which causes Preston to throw his head back and laugh in joyous abandon.

  He’s happy.

  Familiar ghosts are gnawing at me, the panic that wants to overtake my body consuming. It claws at me. Wanting desperately to take over and pull me into its wicked trance. I almost fall prey, but I’ve come too far.

  Instead I straighten my back and stand taller.

  You’re strong. You’re brave. You’re better.

  She mouths something to him then places her hand lovingly on his forearm, leaning up on tiptoes to place a tender kiss on his cheek . . . every last piece of me dies.

  I’m too late. He’s moved on.

  Everything in me says get the hell out of here, but I’m too late. Before I can make my escape, our gaze locks. Preston’s dark eyes go wide, his pupils takin
g up the entire circumference. Every muscle in his body seems to tense.

  Inhale. One. Two. Three.

  Exhale. One. Two. Three.

  Through my breathing, memories of everything I’ve learned since I met Preston flood my mind. My journey to forgiveness, overcoming my fears about life and myself. I will not falter. I will square my shoulders and hold my head high. I will remember to be strong, and not to let the sadness take over.

  At least not here . . . not where he can see me fall.

  He steps toward me.

  “Eve?” he says confused. Like he’s trying to gauge whether it’s really me he’s seeing. I close the distance between us, standing in front of them, my teeth gnawing viciously at inside of my cheek.

  “Hello, Preston.” I turn my head toward the brunette, smiling wide despite the very real need to cry.

  “Oh. Um, this is Heather. Heather this is Eve Hamilton,” he stutters. The awkwardness of the situation only grows worse with his obvious discomfort. I extend my hand, hoping to alleviate the tension.

  “Nice to meet you, Heather.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Eve.” She smiles warmly at me.

  She’s sweet.

  “We were just grabbing breakfast,” he offers lamely. Heather moves closer to him. The way she’s staring at him makes every muscle in my body feel as if it’s being pulled tight.

  She’s in love with him.

  “Are you coming or going?” Preston asks, pulling me out of my haze.

  “Going.” I step aside. “I’m going.” He nods and opens his mouth to speak but stops himself.

  “Ready to sit, Preston?” Her hand rubs up his arm. She’s touching him, her hands are on him—I am barely masking the pain this is causing. Desperate to leave, I nod and begin to slowly retreat.

  I have to go.

  As strong as I am now, this is too much. Seeing him here. Seeing her with him is too much. I need to be alone. I need to feel this pain.