by J. Nathan
She closed her eyes, visibly pained by my words and the hurt I’d caused her. “You’ve got practice.”
“So do you. We can go as soon as it’s over.”
Her eyes opened, drifting while her mind undoubtedly searched for another excuse. “Can I let you know?”
I wanted to say no. I wanted to plead my case. But that hadn’t worked so far. It wouldn’t be easy getting back to where we left off. After believing lies, forgiveness wasn’t easy. Neither was shedding anger that accompanied a betrayal like mine. So I did the only thing I could in that moment. I nodded.
Finlay’s lips twisted again as she turned away from me.
“Finlay,” I called.
She glanced over her shoulder.
“I’m sorry about Cole.”
She nodded. “Me too.” She retreated down the hallway and disappeared around the corner.
I walked out of her dorm and started up the path toward my house. Except for a few lights scattered amongst the dorms, darkness covered the campus. It was quite a contrast to the lively atmosphere during the day. But I much preferred the slow pace, especially when my head was so messed up from the night’s events. How could I have not made the connection between Cole and Finlay? Sure, I hadn’t known her real last name, but looking at that team picture—looking at her—I could see so many of their similarities.
I guess there was a lot Finlay and I didn’t know about each other, but that didn’t negate the fact that we were a perfect match. Even more so now that we shared Cole. That connection alone had to mean something.
Ten minutes into my trek home, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I slipped it out. A text from Finlay lit up my screen.
Okay.
I stopped dead in my tracks and closed my eyes, letting my head fall forward with relief. That one word meant so much more than I ever thought possible. It meant I could go home with her. It meant she hadn’t written me off completely. And it meant there was still hope for us.
I looked up to the night sky, now overcast and starless. “I won’t screw this up, Cole. You have my word. I’ll treat her right.”
And I would.
As long as she’d have me.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Finlay
I glanced over at Caden driving his truck, all countrified in his white T-shirt and cargo shorts. All he needed was the plaid shirt. He looked so comfortable behind the wheel. Then again, he would’ve looked just as comfortable driving a Porsche.
The foolish girl in me wanted to forgive him. Wanted to believe everything could remain in the past and this moment could be the future. Wanted to believe we’d both believed lies which in a messed-up sort of way made us even. But my rational side had nagging doubts, taunting me, making me wonder if he’d bail when the going got tough. I mean, isn’t that what he’d already done? Isn’t that what his dad had done to him?
His eyes cut to mine. “What are you looking at?”
Despite what happened because I hadn’t been open with him, I still shrugged.
“Well, with your eyes glued to the side of my face, I’d say you were looking at me.”
I smiled sadly, wondering if my hard feelings would dissipate the more time I spent with him. That’s partially why I agreed to let him come home with me. To see if there was a chance I could get over it. That, and Sabrina stole my phone and texted him Okay before I could pull the phone out of her hands. “Oh, you noticed that?”
“How could I not? You’re hot as hell.”
I glanced out the window, eyeing the familiar back roads I’d grown up on. My nerves were definitely at an all-time high as we drove closer to my house. Not only because Caden was there hoping for my forgiveness, but because I was beyond anxious to see Cole’s words. The letter had to be there. I hadn’t looked at that dress since tearing it off after the wake and stuffing it in the furthest corner of my closet. I just needed to get to it. I just needed to hold the letter in my hand.
I’d called my parents to let them know I was stopping home—omitting the reason why in case it went terribly wrong. They’d promised to hurry home from my aunt’s in Georgia, but I told them I’d stick around until they returned.
I pointed to a road approaching on our right. “It’s that one.”
Caden turned onto the dirt road, all twisty and bumpy, the way you’d expect out in the sticks of Alabama. I hadn’t realized how much I missed simple things like that until the truck bounced around and dirt clouded up around us.
Caden laughed as the truck continued to spring up and down until the road finally leveled out in front of my house. He parked the truck and killed the engine.
I stared at the porch wrapped around the front of our old farmhouse. The white picket fence surrounding the large front yard. The gate at the side that Cole and I had broken too many times to count. The colorful flowers hanging from the window boxes and filling my mother’s beds. It had been some time since I’d appreciated the home where I’d grown up. The last two years had been spent cursing its emptiness. But in that moment, with the smell of home filling my breaths, a sort of calm swept over me.
“You ready?” Caden asked.
I shook my head, needing another minute.
He slid his hand across the bench seat, placing it on top of mine. “Take all the time you need.”
I nodded, knowing his words carried double meaning. I would take my time. With him. And with the letter that awaited me upstairs. Because as anxious as I was to read it, as soon as I did, it would be the last time Cole spoke to me. And I wasn’t ready for that.
“Cole told me about the tire out back,” Caden said, having no trouble talking about Cole as his voice pulled me out of my head. “Is it still there?”
The mention of Cole’s name and his beloved tire in such a casual way lightened my anxiety. I wondered if that was Cole urging me to let Caden in. To forgive him. To give us another chance. Because in that moment, I loved knowing Caden knew Cole. I loved knowing we shared that. “Yeah.”
“Can I see it?”
I nodded.
“Whenever you’re ready, Finlay. No rush.”
I grabbed the door handle and pushed open my door, not wanting to prolong it any longer. I slipped my hand out from beneath Caden’s and hopped out. I didn’t look back, but heard the driver’s side door open then close. Caden’s footsteps neared until he placed his hand on the small of my back. The small gesture eased my mind, urging me to take him around to the backyard. Caden didn’t say a word, just followed alongside as we stepped through the gate and into the backyard. I stopped. The swing hung as it had in August, unused and swaying. The old football nearby made me wonder if my dad had used it, looking to bring some normalcy back to our home.
“Wait here.” My feet carried me to the worn ball and I picked it up. I took a deep breath then turned to Caden, tossing him a perfect spiral, just like Cole taught me.
Caden caught it with ease. “Nice pass.”
I motioned to the tire with my chin. “Give it a try.”
His eyes narrowed on the tire swaying slightly from side to side. “You sure?”
I nodded. “Cole would’ve challenged you if he were here.”
He nodded, a small smile quirking his lips. He took a couple steps to his left so he stood opposite the tire, eyeing it for a long time. I visualized Cole doing the same as he worked to perfect his passes over the years. Caden pulled back his throwing arm and released the ball. His spiral rebounded off the side of the tire, bouncing onto the lawn.
“Cole never had any trouble,” I teased, leaning down and picking up the ball, spinning it in my hands as I stood. “You want another try?”
He shook his head, his eyes fixed on mine as he moved closer. He didn’t stop until he stood in front of me and stared down into my eyes. “Come here.” He slipped his hand into mine and I let him guide me to the tire. “Get on.”
“I don’t know if it can hold me.”
With his free hand, he grabbed hold of the thick rope that held t
he tire to the tree and tugged down on it. The branch barely moved. “It’s fine.”
“I’ve never used it as a swing.”
He shrugged. “So? I think it’s time we made a new memory out here.”
A ripple rolled through my belly. Sometimes he just knew the right thing to say at just the right moment. Other times I wanted to strangle him for his stupidity.
His presence at my house was definitely overwhelming, not to mention confusing. But I was trying to move forward. I truly was. The difference between the old me and the new me was the new me was capable of forgiveness. She didn’t hold grudges. She acknowledged that not everyone had ulterior motives. At least, that’s what she was trying to do. Because if I’d learned nothing from the way I left things with Cole, not only would it have been shameful, but it would have been a waste of time to stay angry. And clearly, time was a precious thing, not to be wasted on trivial, meaningless grudges.
“Okay.” I released Caden’s hand and stepped through the tire, sitting on the edge and wrapping my arms around it, hoping it would actually hold my weight.
He moved behind me, gently pushing my back. I lifted my feet, making it easier to soar. As I moved back and forth with the motion of the swing, the scent of my mother’s flower beds swirled in the air. It was a smell I hadn’t noticed anymore after Cole died. The world had become dull and lifeless. I barely stepped outside, hating the idea that I wouldn’t find him out there practicing. But today, with Caden with me, knowing exactly what I needed in that moment, I could breathe.
“This is a lot easier than getting the ball through it.”
I laughed. “See. That’s why Cole would’ve challenged you. To make you look bad and him look good.”
“He was a cocky bastard wasn’t he?”
“Yup. I loved that about him.” Tears welled in my eyes, and I didn’t even try to stop them. “I wish I’d told him.”
I couldn’t see Caden’s face, but I could hear the sympathy in his voice. “I’m sorry you lost him. And I’m sorry you have regrets.”
“Yeah…It’s like I’ve tried so hard to bottle them up that sometimes I think I might just explode from the weight of them.”
“Doesn’t sound like it’s doing you any good.”
“Clearly. I’m a wreck most of the time.” It was much easier to admit with my back to him.
“Ever think of just saying what you feel? You know, getting those regrets off your chest.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Sure it is.”
My eyes flicked over my shoulder. “Is that what you do?”
He grabbed hold of the tire and stopped it, twirling me around to face him. “I regret listening to Leslie.”
My lips twisted, unsure what to say.
“I regret being apart from you.”
I stared into his big blue eyes, searching for the truth in them.
“I regret hurting you. Because you are the last person in the world I want to hurt.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because I’m falling for you, Finlay. Harder than I thought possible.”
My heart thumped against my chest, his admission blowing any clear thoughts from my head. Our relationship thus far had been anything but easy, but his words just sounded so damn sincere.
His smile spread, as if just realizing what he’d admitted. “Didn’t mean to spring that on you like that. I just saw the opportunity and went for it.”
I swallowed around the sudden lump swelling in my throat. “So, you’re serious?”
“Yup. And it felt damn good to get it off my chest.”
I nodded, stunned by his sentiment after everything that had happened between us. “I’m gonna need some time to process that.”
“How long?” His eyes held so much hope in that moment.
“I don’t know.”
He nodded. “I can handle that.” He lifted my chin with his finger. “Especially if there’s a chance you’ll tell me you feel the same way.”
The emotions he’d been eliciting in me couldn’t be healthy. Great highs and even lower lows. Was that what falling in love was? Because, even though I wasn’t naïve and expecting flowers and confessions of love at every turn, I expected it to be easier. “Are you thirsty?”
“A little,” he said, skeptical of my sudden subject change.
I stepped out of the tire. “Come on. I’ve stalled long enough.”
His brows arched as he grasped my arm to balance me. “You sure?”
“Nope.”
I climbed the back steps and opened the door. People in the south still believed no one would break into their homes. The ingrained smell of my mom’s homemade cooking filled the kitchen as we stepped inside. I walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher. “I hope you like sweet tea.”
I placed the pitcher down on the counter and pulled two cups from the cupboard. Caden walked up behind me. I could feel the heat of him, his presence just as overwhelming here as it had been in the truck. But he didn’t touch me. He knew better than to rush me. “You look good in the kitchen.”
I glanced over my shoulder at him. “I’m not really the domestic type.”
He placed his hands on my shoulders and spun me, backing me up against the counter so I needed to tip my head to look up at him. “Doesn’t matter.” He leaned down and, for a split second I thought he’d kiss my lips, but he pressed his lips to my forehead instead. “You’re my type.”
A gush of relief mixed with disappointment flooded me. “Thanks for coming home with me.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I wanted to be here,” he assured me.
I nodded, my eyes sweeping over his features. God, he was so good looking—and in my kitchen hanging on every one of my words. “I just feel like I need to go up there alone.”
Disappointment clouded his eyes. I knew he wanted to be there for me, but it was something I just needed to do alone. His disappointment transformed to understanding, as if he’d read my thoughts and wanted to give me what I needed. “Can I stay in the hallway? Just in case you need me?”
My heart drummed faster as I nodded, knowing I needed to get up there.
“Forget the drink. You can do this,” he assured me.
I hoped his faith in me somehow made it true. I moved away from the counter and walked to the foot of the staircase, looking up at the menacing climb before me. I could do it. I could read the letter. I could hear what Cole really wanted to say to me. What he really thought of me.
I climbed the steps slowly, Caden’s footsteps creaking behind me. When we reached the top landing, I pulled in a deep breath and walked to the door on the right. Things were exactly as Cole had left them. Nothing had been touched. His red Alabama comforter remained tightly pulled over his pillows. Football posters filled three walls. His trophies lined the shelves on the fourth.
Caden placed his hand gently on my shoulder as he stepped behind me. “He was this neat at school, too.”
I scoffed. “Shocking. My mom picked up after his sloppy-ass most of the time.”
Caden’s laughter carried softly over my shoulder before tapering off. “Those are a lot of trophies.”
“Did he tell you he started playing when he was four?”
“No.”
“He was amazing even back then.” I needed to keep moving before getting swept up in more memories of him. “Mine’s the next one.” I proceeded to my open door. My room was just as I’d left it. My teal comforter remained not nearly as tight as Cole’s. Posters didn’t line my walls, instead a purple tapestry hung behind my bed. My desk was cluttered and a few pictures of Cole and me were tucked into the side of my mirror.
“I’ll wait here.” Caden stepped away from my open door and leaned against the wall beside it, giving me the privacy I needed. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
I eyed him curiously. “You didn’t read it?”
He shook his head. “What’s in that letter’s between you and Cole. I
just stuck it in an envelope.”
He easily could’ve read it. But even back then Caden respected Cole—and me—enough to let me be the only one to read my brother’s private thoughts.
Some of the tension in my body released. Maybe Caden was the guy I thought he was. The guy I hoped he was. “Thank you.”
He smiled. “Would you stop thanking me and get in there?”
I nodded, stepping slowly inside my bedroom. I hadn’t been gone long, but things had changed. I had changed.
I walked to my closet and grasped the small knob on the wooden door, something I’d done thousands of times before. But at that moment, it felt like the hardest thing I’d ever had to do. I dragged in a deep breath and pulled open the door. Bare hangers hung amongst some sweaters I wouldn’t need until winter break. I pushed them to the far right and reached into the left corner. The black dress hung as I’d left it, tucked far away. An unwanted reminder of that dreadful day.
Instead of pulling out the dress, I reached my hand into the pocket. Goosebumps raced across my skin when I grasped nothing but air. Panicked, I shoved my hand into the other pocket. My heart stuttered as my fingers grasped an envelope. Time stood still as I closed my eyes and clutched the envelope like it would disappear if I didn’t hold it tightly enough. Eventually, I pulled it out and stared down at it as I moved to my bed, dropping slowly onto the edge.
For a long time I just stared at it, working up the nerve to actually reach inside and pull out the letter. I listened for Caden out in the hallway, but heard nothing but my heartbeat echoing in my ears and the low hum of the air conditioner down the hall in my parents’ bedroom.
I braced myself before lifting the envelope’s flap and pushing my fingers inside. The hair on the back of my neck stood as I pulled the folded paper from the inside. The single sheet became a brick in my hand. My eyes pricked with tears. My throat went dry. What if he didn’t forgive me? What if he told me I was a selfish bitch? How could I live knowing what he really thought of me?
I closed my eyes, squeezing them tightly for a brief moment. When I opened them, my shaking hands unfolded the paper.