Savage: A Second Chance at Love

by Jordan Silver

  Now that I had her back, I was ready to make new memories. I have no idea why things had happened the way they had. Why life had thrown us so many curves. What I do know is that I’d never stopped loving her, never stopped wanting her and I hope to fuck the same was true for her too.

  Tonight for the first time in months, I put the other aside. I allowed myself to relish the moment, to enjoy the fact that we really were this close again.

  There were no thoughts in my head but her, only her. I wondered if she felt what I did. If she was reliving that young love that we’d been so sure of once upon a time.

  We both held our peace, just enjoying the comfort and joy of having something we never thought would be.

  For me that joy was followed hard by guilt. The two emotions ran amok in my heart until I called a halt.

  I didn’t cause what had happened to my family. I’d never wished it, but it had happened all the same. If there was anything I could’ve done to spare them I would’ve done it in a heartbeat. But I wasn’t given the chance.

  Was I never supposed to find any happiness for myself? Should I have followed them into the grave? Would that have brought them back? Fuck this! I can’t keep doing this to myself.

  Survivor’s guilt, I know all about it. I know that I can let it eat me up and destroy what was left of my life, or I could find a way to deal with it and salvage what I could.

  There was no question that I wanted this, wanted her. I refuse to let guilt stand in the way. I’m going to have her, have the life we’ve always dreamt of and pray that this time, I can keep her safe.

  “Let’s go to bed.” She jumped at my words but settled quickly enough, and her body trembled. It had never entered my mind to give her time. We’d lost too much of that already.

  I didn’t give her a chance to argue, just turned her in my arms and with her hand held securely in mine, headed upstairs to the master suite.

  9

  Shelly

  My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t hold any one thought for long, can’t hardly form words and I had plenty to say. As he led me up the stairs I questioned myself.

  If I were honest with myself I couldn’t help but admit that the teenager in me wanted this. The girl who’d fallen in love with him at sixteen was jumping for joy. But the woman I’d become was wary, not to mention angry.

  Not only because of what had happened between us, but because he seemed so different. He was more rough around the edges. There didn’t seem to be any give in him at all and the way he’d just came in and took me told me he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

  The Nick Sheridan I knew was sweet and fun, and a total pushover for me. Though I sensed that he still held some of that in him for me, there was an edge to him now. I guess I could put it off as the years passing, but somehow I didn’t think so. Even his touch though the same, felt different somehow, more forceful.

  This Nick Sheridan would’ve never let me run off in a huff thirteen years ago. I was as sure of that as I am of what was about to happen between us in the large master bedroom of the house I’d always dreamt of sharing with him.

  I stood stock still in the doorway bringing him up short. The silly tears I’d been shedding all evening started again as I took it all in. “It’s the only room I touched.” He looked around the room as I did. He’d remembered, almost down to every last detail, the rambling dreams of a young girl with stars in her eyes.

  I wanted to stay mad at him, but how can I when he does something like this? If I’d doubted his words this would’ve proved me wrong. He’d held onto this all this time when even I had forgotten. Well not forgotten exactly, more like banished from thought never to be revisited again.

  The room was just as I’d always imagined it. I’d told him, even showed him once I think, what color, what bed I would put in this beautiful room with the row of bay windows that wrapped around the circular room.

  The king sized mahogany canopy bed stood out with its drapery in my favorite color. He’d even remembered the mountain of pillows and there was one little teddy bear front and center.

  All I could do was look at him. I’d heard everything he’d said downstairs but until I saw this it hadn’t truly hit home. All those years while I’d been suffering without him he’d been suffering too.

  I felt a little bit of my heart heal at the realization. He hadn’t forgotten me after all. “You didn’t forget…” The words got caught in my throat and he pulled me into his arms and I felt that safe and protected feeling I always did when he held me. “Never.”

  I hadn’t lied when I told him that I never hated him. I’d wanted to, oh how I’d wanted to. It would’ve made things so much easier if I did. But no matter how hard I tried I just never could.

  That was never more evident than during my one failed relationship in the last twelve years. I’d walked away knowing that I would never be whole, never find the kind of love I shared with him, with anyone else. I was angry then, but even with that anger the hate wouldn’t come.

  When I’d first come back home that summer so long ago, I never expected my world to be shattered. We’d had a stupid argument, something that seemed so trivial now on the back of all that had transpired since.

  I got in a huff, as I always did back then when I didn’t get my way. But instead of giving in as he usually did, he dug his heels in and I just had to show him. He was always accusing me of being hardheaded anyway so why not?

  So I’d left town and went to stay with an aunt hundreds of miles away, thinking that I’d give him enough time to calm down and see things my way.

  I missed him like crazy even before I’d left the county line, but stubbornly refused to call him. It didn’t register to me that he hadn’t called me a hundred times to tease me out of my mad like he usually did.

  Granted I’d screamed at him that we were over, and had left without even telling him that I was going. But obviously he had to know I wasn’t serious, that I was just blowing off steam.

  It wasn’t like it had been the first time we’d had one of our famous fights. We’d been together for a year, every day for a year. From the moment we started dating it was like something you read about in a fairytale. Every young girl’s dream. We were inseparable.

  I’d given him my virginity, had pledged myself to him and vowed that I would always be his and he’d done the same.

  That was the kind of things we said to each other back then and we meant every word. I knew that nothing would ever come between us, not even my temper and stupidity. But I was wrong, so wrong. And we’d both paid the price.

  But before everything went to hell, we’d had some amazing times together. I can still look back some days and smile through the tears at the love we’d shared. That once in a lifetime kind of love that most people would die for.

  I didn’t know I was taking it for granted until I’d lost it. Maybe because I never believed it possible for it to be gone. We were going to be together forever. The great love of Evans Falls.

  When I was with him, no matter what was going on around me, I knew I was safe and loved. I was so secure in that love that it had been easy for me to walk away in anger, knowing that like always, he’d be there when I returned.

  We had a life to build together after all. All those things we’d pledged to do and be for each other. Our shared dream of happily ever after.

  But the dream came crashing to an end once I came back home and the boy I loved tore my heart out and stomped it into the ground. I think I died that day, at least it felt that way.

  I remember the feeling as I listened to his words like it was only yesterday. Like drowning with nothing to hold onto. I saw everything that I had been fall apart in those few seconds. Lost, alone, exposed.

  I’d gone numb all over and wished for death. All I could see as his words penetrated was a future without him. Bleak, dark, lonely. He’d been so broken then too, but I didn’t care.

  I was never so mad
in my life as I was that day. I think I slapped his face a couple times before running away. I can still hear his anguished voice calling out for me to come back.

  He’d gutted me and all I could do was stand there in his backyard where we’d spent so many great hours together, lying under the stars weaving dreams; crying my heart out.

  As if his betrayal wasn’t bad enough, the fact of who it was that he’d betrayed me with made it so much worse. I knew. Everyone knew that Dee was after him.

  I was never worried about the whispers though, or her baleful stares in the hallway or wherever we happened to run into her because I was sure of his love for me. She was never a threat to me, to us, and the love that she so envied. Or so I’d thought.

  Dee and I had a history, or our families did. It started long before I was even born. As if in a twisted tale of history repeating itself, her mom had once been in love with my dad while they too were in high school.

  I never knew the whole story, only that grandma had forbidden dad to even speak to her in public. Grandma was one of those throwbacks. The type who believed in protocol and class. She didn’t think Loretta was good enough for her son.

  A girl from the wrong side of the tracks was not welcomed in her home and definitely would not be the girl on her son’s arm for the prom. Dad to this day swears that the infatuation was one sided, that he’d never shown any interest in her.

  I’d heard the story once or twice; how mom had caught his eye when she moved to town, how they’d fallen in love at first sight. And that’s where the bad blood came from.

  Dee and her family were never mentioned in my home. I never paid any more attention to her than was necessary. She just wasn’t part of my life, of no consequence to me.

  Then Nick had given me the heartbreaking news and it all came rushing back. It was hard not to believe that it was deliberate, that she had orchestrated this whole thing stemming from an old family slight.

  Whatever her reasons, that night my world ended. Oh I hated; for thirteen years I hated Dee as much as any human being could possibly hate another. Though I never so much as looked at her in passing.

  Nick had believed that night was a mistake on his part. He blamed his drinking, which he wasn’t known to do. But I knew better, I knew that for her it had been a window of opportunity.

  I don’t know how she did it, was never able to put all the pieces together, but deep inside I knew. And I was the one who’d given her the opening she needed to make her move.

  I think what was hardest to take was the blame I placed on myself. I never said it to him then, but I knew had I not acted the way I had and left, none of this would’ve happened to us.

  It’s not easy living with the fact that you’re the architect of your own demise. I’ve lived with that for a long time. Maybe it was that that kept me from hating him, from laying all the blame at his feet.

  My parents had been rocks in those first few days after I had broken the news to them. The days when I hid in my room licking my wounds.

  School had already started but I was in no condition to face anyone, so mom had worked it out so I could stay at home and do my lessons for the first couple of weeks but then I’d have to go back.

  I knew I couldn’t face it, no way would I be able to walk those halls, the halls where Nick and I had been the king and queen in everyone’s eyes, and not be with my other half. I pondered what to do until the day I ran into Dee purely by accident.

  I hadn’t seen her since the night Nick had given me the news so it was quite a shock to the system and nothing at all like I’d imagined it would be.

  Of course I’d gone over it a million times in my head. How I was going to keep my head up and not give her the satisfaction of seeing me crumble. But that one run-in had been out of the blue and totally unexpected so all my preparation went right out the window.

  I’d snuck out to the store one town over thinking that no one I knew would be there. It had been days since I’d been out of the house and mom and dad insisted I do something. They refused to let me waste away in my room they said.

  We’d had one hell of a row and I’d stormed out feeling hurt and beyond pissed that they were making me do this. Why couldn’t they understand? Couldn’t they see that I was dead inside?

  It was all I could do not to end my miserable life. I think maybe that’s what they feared most. It wasn’t until later that I got that. And the truth is I had thought of it a time or two, though I could never bring myself to give it serious thought. I was fine just hiding out in my room, keeping the rest of the world at bay.

  But that day my parents weren’t having it and I’d left feeling lower than a slug, only to have the day go from bad to worse.

  I was never sure if she’d seen me before the conversation she was having with her best friend started, or if I just happened upon it by accident. But after hearing her gush about how sweet Nick was being and how much she was looking forward to their wedding, I bolted out of there.

  I was sick in the parking lot and sick again once I reached my home. My parents took one look at my tear stained face, not to mention my shrieking like the hounds of hell were after me and knew something horrible had happened.

  I don’t remember the ride home; don’t know how I didn’t run into a tree or worse. Mom and dad had been in a panic checking me for injuries and begging me to tell them what was wrong.

  When I was finally coherent enough to speak, I told them what happened and begged and pleaded to be sent away. I’m not sure what I thought Nick meant when he said he had to be there for the baby.

  Maybe in my teenage mind I thought he could take care of the baby from a distance and still have a life with me, after I forgave him and got over my mad of course. But hearing those words from her had shattered what was left of my torn heart.

  I left the next day and didn’t look back for years, not even for the holidays. I think mom and dad finally accepted that if I stayed I would’ve become a shell of myself, or worse, bring harm to myself, I was that broken.

  I threw myself into my studies, mowing through the curriculum and graduating with honors. College was much of the same. I kept my head down and studied hard. The thought of a relationship left me feeling cold and petrified so there were no distractions.

  I got a job right out of school and it was there that I met one of the junior partners. Rob and I weren’t in love, at least I wasn’t. But he was the first man to get enough of a rise out of me to let things go to the next step. I never told him it was because he reminded me of the one I couldn’t have.

  The affair lasted less than a year, because although he might have had Nick’s hair and eyes, he wasn’t Nick. Once I realized that I would never stop comparing, I called it off and that was my last foray into the dating world.

  Others have shown interest over the years. In fact, hardly a day goes by that I don’t get an offer. But my heart and soul just wasn’t in it.

  I spent years reliving our time together. Remembering all the sweet things he used to say to me. I think it hurt as much as it did because I knew he’d meant every word.

  It was all just too horrible to think about, so every time his face would flash into my head, or I’d remember something he’d said, I’d throw myself into my work all the harder.

  That got me through some days, but there were others that didn’t bear thinking about. I told myself to move on and forget the first half of my life. Just put it out of my head as if it never happened. I forced myself to live my life the best way I could, to not look back.

  Then Mom fell sick and dad needed my help, so I was lucky enough to get a transfer from work. I always wondered if I’d gone with this particular company above all the others that had scouted me because I knew they had ties to my hometown.

  Whatever, it was easy enough to make the move without losing anything but the apartment I’d been living in. I could’ve bought a home a long time ago, but even that was taken from me. Who was I going to share it with?

  I mo
ved back to town but couldn’t go back to my childhood home, too many memories. So I got a place in the city and went back and forth each day before and after work, hoping that I would never run into Nick or his family.

  It wasn’t that easy in a small town like ours, but I was able to avoid it for a few weeks at least. But each time I drove down the street to my childhood home, there was a boulder-sized rock in the pit of my stomach.

  I didn’t know where he lived with his family, but his parents still lived in the neighborhood. It was just as hard seeing them, as it would’ve been him. They were once my family too, now they were hers.

  Of course I ran into old friends from school, some of whom seemed to have forgotten the whole sordid mess or had the decency to pretend to. But there were others who hadn’t and who had no qualms about ripping the bandage off old wounds.

  I stomached the questions and queries as best I could without falling apart. That I left until I got back to the safety of my apartment where I would always break down. Wondering why this thing still had the power to hurt me after all these years.

  Nick had gone on with his life obviously. There were some people who were only too happy to tell me what a beautiful family they were and how well they were doing.

  Loretta, Dee’s mom, had been one of those people. I’d had the misfortune of running into her once at the grocery store and she’d had a lot to say about my mom and I.

  There was such anger and hate there that it was hard to fathom how someone I’d never met could have that in her for me. She’d torn into me, calling me everything under the sun and accusing me of worse. I’ve avoided that store ever since.

  Then they were the clueless careless ones who didn’t see any harm in sharing all the juicy details with me whether I wanted them to or not.

  It was through them that I learned that Nick had joined the force, which had always been his dream if he didn’t make it to the majors. I tried to be happy for him, but this was no afternoon special, this was real life, my life, and quite frankly I wanted him to fall flat on his face.