Love's Learning Curve

by Felicia Lynn

  Life goes on, so people can.

  “Tomorrow, maybe. I have some stuff to catch up on, and honestly, I’m just not ready,” I respond with sincerity. She nods in acceptance and embraces me again, and I feel guilty that it’s not comforting. She’s my best friend, and she’s stuck in the middle of a family issue she shouldn’t have to be part of. Somehow, it feels like I’m punishing her, and it’s not fair.

  I resolve myself to the fate that tomorrow after class, I’ll make an effort to spend time with her, fill her in on everything, and try to keep my relationship with her separate from that of my parents. I’ve lost so much in the past week. I don’t need to make Morgan an unnecessary casualty because of her association. Our lifelong history is deserving of more effort than that.

  I had a late lunch at George’s. You would have thought I’d been away on a month-long journey with the way they reacted when I walked in the door. Mary immediately started calling out to her mom across the restaurant. “Mom, she’s here.” They all came running and engulfed me in the center of a family bear hug.

  I reminded them it’s only been a day. Sue shrugged it off stating, “I’ve missed my girl.” I ordered my lunch choosing to sit at the bar to chat with Jamie instead of in the dining room. This is new for me, but I needed a change of scenery. That room next door holds many memories for me.

  My food portion was easily double what it normally is, and I’m positive it wasn’t accidental, but since I was starving and the leftovers would be handy later, I didn’t complain.

  Now that I’m home, I know it’s time to face the music with Morgan. I’ve been a little anxious about it all day, but I need her in my life. Even though a relationship with her will never be like it was before, we need to find our new way together. I love her, and my amazing memories with her outweigh the bad ones tenfold. I want to preserve what we have. I’m willing to adjust if she is.

  I look up from the pile of books and notebooks that have collected around me as she comes through the door of our bedroom. I smile, happy to see her, hoping it appears genuine as I want it to feel. I’m really trying here. “Hey. How was your day?” I ask.

  She seems to be as apprehensive as I am. “Good. Have I told you yet today that I’m so glad you’re back? I really did miss coming home to this,” she says, her response lacking the normal ridicule about my excessive study habits.

  I put my papers aside as she sits on the edge of her bed across from mine. She fiddles with her fingers, picking at her nails. The cheerful expression that usually covers her face isn’t there. She’s tense and worried. I understand. I feel that way too.

  “My day was okay, but I’m worried, Char. Everything spiraled so quickly, and I felt helpless. You pulled away from me. You’re my best friend and I’m yours, yet when things got bad, you didn’t let me in. I’m scared this whole situation changed us.” Her voice is shaky. She pushes herself further onto her bed putting distance between us and grabs her throw pillow, clutching it to her chest like a shield. She’s hurt, and I hate that I’ve done that to her, but at the time, I had no other choice. I did what I needed for my own self-preservation, as selfish as that makes me, but it doesn’t help the guilt of understanding how my actions have affected others.

  “I’m so sorry, Morgan. I never wanted to hurt you or shut you out, but I couldn’t handle it at the time. I couldn’t even handle myself. I know you don’t understand because you don’t know the story, but truly, I’ve never been more broken.” It’s an apology full of excuses, but it’s real. I’ve become so accustomed to living a lie and not admitting even to myself at times when I’m struggling. No more. I refuse to live a lie.

  “So what happened?” she asks, her eyes begging for understanding.

  I start with the party, telling her about my escape with Ty then proceed to the comment from my mother and how Ty handled it. I leave out the intimate details and even the precious moments and conversations with Ty that don’t impact the facts. I can’t talk about those things. It’s enough that I can’t forget them. HE WAS A LIE.

  Morgan moves to my bed abruptly, wrapping her arm around me and rests her head on my shoulder when I read the text from my mother. I stumble over the words a bit when the hot tears cloud my sight. Morgan is speechless when I finish reading.

  Then I explain all that happened next and how I don’t even remember driving to George’s. The next few days were a blur. I stayed in bed. They gave me space. I just needed the time alone to figure out how to just survive it all.

  Morgan has a trail of silent tears falling down her cheeks, and it’s obvious the situation was more disastrous than she realized. “I’m sorry, Char. Honestly, I had no idea. I wish I could rewind back to that party and make it so that you never met Tyler Stone. He ruined everything the moment he stepped into your life.”

  As much as I want to wish the same, I’m not sure I can. Tyler Stone may have been a lie, but for a short time, he was the most beautiful lie ever. He was the lie that made me believe in a love that burns so hot I knew I’d never recover if it were extinguished, and I won’t—ever.

  That, I won’t talk about with Morgan or anyone else. I don’t want to justify the feelings that consumed me so quickly I didn’t even realize what they were until it was over. I’m not ready to admit that I gave my heart, my entire heart, to someone who wasn’t real. I fell in love with Ty, and no matter how terrible his deception was, I don’t think I can stop loving him yet. My heart still aches and yearns for the things that could have been.

  “Listen, I have a plan. What do you say you and I get dressed and head up to George’s to hang at the bar? Just us, a girls’ night? I can’t fix all the hurt that you’re feeling right now, but I sure know how to make you forget,” she asks, hopeful. I’ve never been a drinker with the exception of sips here and there. I’ve certainly never been drunk, but at this moment, forgetting even for a short time is just the reprieve I need.

  I nod, leaving her shocked, and she squeals as I confirm. “Okay. Forgetting is a phenomenal plan.”

  She jumps up, grabbing her phone and humming cheerfully as her fingers dance quickly across the screen. I go to the closet and flip through my clothes trying to find something to wear that fits my mood.

  “I’m going to jump in the shower. I can be ready in an hour. Is that cool?” she asks.

  “Perfect,” I tell her, knowing it’ll only take me fifteen minutes max since I’m only changing my top and touching up my makeup. I have no one to impress and no interest in looking any less depressed than I feel.

  She plugs her phone into the charger and places it on the nightstand between our beds before leaving the room. I sit back in my own bed deciding to spend the next few minutes unwinding by reading a book for fun.

  I tried to start a book over and over this week, but I couldn’t concentrate on the words. Now, I plan to force myself to live in a fictional world for a bit. Romance may be a little torture to my soul right now, but I love it. I love happy endings, and since I won’t have my own, I’ll live vicariously through the characters on the pages.

  I’m engrossed for a good twenty minutes, but I close the book after finishing another chapter knowing if I start, I’ll never find the motivation to get dressed to leave. I step out of the bed accidentally tripping on the cord connected to Morgan’s phone, and it tumbles to the floor hitting the bedpost with force, scaring me. My God. I hope I haven’t shattered her phone. She’ll be crazy. I’m not sure she loves anything more than her phone.

  I pick it up to check to see if it’s broken and my eyes do a double take at the notification I see on the screen. I blink excessively as my sight blurs and refocuses.

  Sandra Baker: Nice work getting things back on track with Charlotte. I’m glad your talk worked, and we got rid of him. We make a great team. You have a beautiful future ahead of you with your exceptional acting talent. She’ll get over him eventually, but what’s most important is she’ll be much more amenable to work with when she comes crawling back to her family.


  I read the words over and over thinking it has to be some sort of joke or at the very least a major misunderstanding, but it’s not. The realization of everything that’s happened over the last month and Morgan being an accomplice behind it is paralyzing. If this is true, what part did Ty have in it? Was he a part or was he just another victim of their deceit?

  Morgan walks in as I’m still staring at her phone and looks at me curiously before realizing her mistake. “Umm … why are you looking at my phone?” she says, faking annoyance. I see her fear. She’s just hoping I didn’t see anything to prove her guilt, but it’s too late. The one message I did see was enough to paint the whole picture.

  “You. It was you all along supplying her with the information. You helped her try to destroy me. The two of you worked together to break me. You wanted me weak. For what? Morgan! What the hell are you getting out of this?” I ask, yelling now. My pitch grows louder by the second. I want to throw the phone at her when she stands stunned in the doorway wrapped in her robe in full makeup. I want to walk to her and shake the answers from her.

  “You wouldn’t listen to me, Charlotte! I tried to warn you away from him. He’s not like you, and he never will be. He’s like me. Conquering Tyler Stone has been my mission since we got on campus. I was wearing him down. I refused to be just another filler for his bed. I was waiting for him to be ready for more, but before I could make that happen, you stole the stage and got the role I wanted,” she yells back. Her jealousy is showing, and it’s not pretty.

  “I’ve always kept Sandra in the loop about what’s going on with you. Why the hell do you think I came to school with you and have lived by your side? Do you really think you’re my best friend? We had nothing in common until Tyler Stone got his grip on you.” The hate filling her voice is something I never imagined in Morgan, and I don’t have anything to say to her to respond. SHE WAS THE LIE ALL ALONG.

  I drop the phone onto the bed. I’m not sure where the calmness that washes over me comes from when I walk into the closet and begin folding clothes and placing them into my luggage, but she’s not finished ranting as I do.

  “For being so smart, you, Charlotte Baker, are as dumb as they come. I never believed this plan would work from the second your mother mentioned it, but it did. Like fucking magic. You lost the guy. You gave up. You became weak just like she said. YOU NEVER DESERVED HIM! Why don’t you know that?” she yells, and I ignore her. I’m on a mission.

  SHE WAS THE LIE ALL ALONG.

  I’m not sure how I make it out of the house without losing it. Morgan … of all people I would have expected this from? Never her. Now, everything makes sense, though. My mother’s claws were so much deeper than I ever expected. Morgan was probably relaying all my secrets long before college. I’m hurt. I’m angry. I regret the guilt I felt for locking her out. I regret the time I wasted on a friendship I thought was real. But I will not cry. I will not ache and mourn the loss of them. I’ve given them more of myself than they ever deserved.

  Tyler is the one who I will mourn. I welcome the guilt I feel. I think I wanted to believe he had a fault big enough to let me down. I waited at every turn for the other shoe to drop. I looked for the flaws Morgan warned me about trying to prove her right, instead of trusting what I felt from the start. It was never enough that he showed me that I was cherished.

  Tyler and I were doomed from the start. We just didn’t know it. He saw every crack and flaw in me and didn’t run. I gave him so many chances to let me down, and even when I thought he was going to, he didn’t. He made every second I waited for him worth it over and over. As tough as his exterior is, he let me in. He made it clear he wanted me in his life, but my self-confidence wouldn’t let me believe it.

  I didn’t read the complete article, the pain was too powerul. I don’t understand, but maybe if I’d given him the chance to explain as he’d pleaded on any one of the hundreds of texts or messages, I would get it.

  I let him down. That, I regret. That, I can’t take back. Every second over the past week I’ve spent picking up the shattered pieces of myself, I deserved. I knew I was no good for him belonging to the family I did. He wanted the chance to prove we were right together, and he did it. I felt it. But I let him down.

  I packed enough things to get me through the next couple of weeks before I left fully planning to go back to my rescue heaven. I want to be where I’m wanted. But, before I do, I have something way more important to do.

  I hope he’s home, but if not, I’ll wait. Waiting is the least I can do at this point. A text warning him that I was coming would have been considerate, but after everything, he may not receive it well. How many chances can I expect him to give me to let him down?

  It’s raining buckets. Looks like Mother Nature is setting up the perfect scenery for what I need to do. I walk quickly to the front porch trying to shield myself from the pelting drops, but it's useless. My hands shake as I knock. When there’s no answer, I ring the doorbell. Still nothing. I knock again. Wait. Wait. Wait. Nothing.

  Feeling defeated, I turn looking out at the sky shedding the tears I understand. With no more energy remaining to fight for the life I want to deserve, I sit on the cold, damp concrete step of the front porch.

  I was the last one to leave the field again today. The team is headed up to the sports bar, but I didn’t want to be there. Hell, I don’t want to be home either. The problem is the one place I want to be isn’t an option. Charlie is hurting, and it’s killing me that I had a part in that, but it’s not what she thinks.

  I can’t even keep track of the number of conversations I had with her voicemail before it was full. I’ve texted her so many times begging for a chance to explain.

  The minute I make the turn into the cul-de-sac, I see it and wonder if my mind is playing tricks on me. But there’s no way that’s not her car. As I drive past it, I see it’s empty. I pray silently that she’s found the key I left under the mat today. Every day this past week, I’ve left the door unlocked hoping that maybe she’d be here one day when I got home. It never happened, but even as I turned the lock today, I couldn’t bear the thought that she’d be locked out, so I left the key under the mat.

  I park and jump out of the truck racing toward the front door. I see her sitting on the stoop at the front door hunched over with her arms wrapped around her legs. Her face is resting on her knees as she sleeps. Tracks from her tears line her cheek. Mist from the raindrops settles in her hair. She looks lost and broken, but she’s here. Finally. Nothing can ever take away her beauty because, with Charlotte Baker, it’s not just skin deep. She’s never looked more beautiful.

  I kneel beside her, running my hand down the contour of her spine as I lean in pressing my lips to her cheek. She startles, and her eyes pop open as she realizes I’m here.

  “Ty? You’re here. I was waiting for you.” I don’t respond to state the obvious. Instead, I pull her into my arms and stand. Her legs wrap around my waist, and her hands go to either side of my face as she stares into my eyes.

  "You came back, buttercup," I say, holding her tightly. “You came back.” I’m not sure what brought her here, but no matter what it is, I’ll take it.

  “I came to apologize. I came to tell you that it was never your fault. It was so easy to believe it was you, but it wasn’t. It was always me. I just didn’t realize at the time all the bad guys were just over my shoulder. We were set up to fail before we ever had a chance,” she says regretfully.

  “Baby, I’ve been set up to fail my whole life, but I never learned how to do it, and I can promise, I’m not going to learn now.” I mean every word. My lips press firmly to hers.

  “I'm so sorry, Ty. I'm just so sorry. I should’ve never doubted you. I was wrong, one million percent. It is the biggest mistake of my life," she says as I watch the tears fall from her face.

  “Charlotte, there’s going to be mistakes; it goes with the territory. This is new to us. All I know is mastering love’s learning curve has more rewa
rds than I ever imagined, and I’m willing to work for them. I just need my partner in it with me. Together. Because failure isn’t an option.”

  I’m not sure how long I stand on the porch with her in my arms kissing her, taking everything she’s willing to give. What I know is that it was worth it.

  (One month later)

  “Time to get up, hotshot,” I whisper laying soft kisses on his face as I climb onto him straddling him and rubbing his shoulders as he wakes.

  He groans, wrapping his fingers around my hips firmly, pressing my bottom into his groin where one muscle on his body is very much awake. “I feel sorry for people who need to drink coffee in the morning to wake up,” he says briskly as he flips me reversing our positions so that I’m pinned to the mattress under him.

  “Good morning, handsome,” I say, smiling a smile that I never have to fake and wouldn’t try to anyway. Tyler can see right through me.

  “Yes, buttercup. It is a very good morning indeed.” He has that feisty look in his eye, and I know that it’ll be a challenge to get out of the house on time this morning, but since falling in love with Ty, I’m starting to excel at facing a good challenge.

  “I see that look in your eye, mister, and it’s not happening. We spent the better part of last night in this playground. Today is important, and I want to see my guy walk across that stage, so put your toy away and get in the shower.”

  “You meant to say your fiancé, right? That’s what you meant instead of ‘your guy.’ I know it.” He pushes his girth between my legs rubbing against my clit. As much as I try to restrain the moan of pleasure it brings, there’s no chance. He knows my button. “Seems like you like my man toy, love.”