Doubting Our Hearts

by Rachel E. Cagle

  "Sooo. We're gonna go now," Lil says interrupting as her father was about to say something. She goes to hug both of them and plants kisses on their cheeks. "I love you. I'll be back soon. Call me if something happens, please."

  "We will Lily bug," He replies to his daughter. He turns his blue eyes to me, and I don't know whether to be scared or happy that Lil's father is going to address me. He sticks out his hand, and without a second guess, I walk forward to take it. "I trust you'll look after her, son."

  "It would be my pleasure, sir."

  Holy crap. Did Mr. George Anderson call me son? Was that a warm greeting like a father-in-law would give to his son-in-law or a 'son' don't think of messing with my daughter? I hope it was the former because the latter scares me.

  I can feel Lillian grab my wrist and yank at my arm. That's her signal to hurry the hell up. She's done it a dozen times. Okay lady. I get the picture. It's time to go.

  "I hope to see you again Mr. and Mrs. Anderson," I say as Lil pulls me to the door. I can hear they're chuckles, and a smile plays on my face as her mother says, "Please, it's George and Helen, dear."

  "Go on, son. She'll probably pull your arm out of your socket next. No use two of us being in this place," George adds with a wink.

  He called me son again! He likes me. I give them a slight nod and wave as Lillian pulls me into the hallway.

  "You're parents are great," I tell her with a smirk when she lets go of my wrist.

  "They like you ok," She replies with a huff.

  "They love you," I quip.

  "Yes, they love me and I love them."

  I wish you would say you loved me too.

  At my thought, I freeze up. How can I be thinking I want Lillian to say she loves me when I have a fiancée? Is my love fading for Addison?

  Lil looks back at me as I've stopped walking with her. "What?" She asks wanting to know the reasons behind my sudden halt.

  I just stare at her stunning green eyes trying to see something in them they may reciprocate my thought. I want Lily to love me because I know I'm falling for her.

  I attempt to push those emotions to the side for now. Lillian needs me to be here for her. She needs a friend not some shmuck whose going to fly down here to date her because it's a thousand miles away from his fiancée.

  "Nothing. Sorry," I say making an effort to give her a reassuring smile. "Have you eaten yet?"

  "No. I’m pretty hungry though."

  "It's settled then. We're going to eat and we can talk over food." I look to see she has everything she needs but notice she's missing her one essential item. "You don't have your camera?"

  "No need for it here," she replies sheepishly.

  "Would you like to go and get it?"

  I know the camera makes her feel more comfortable. It gives her a distraction, but maybe she won't need it anymore. Lily's eyes wander and look anywhere but at me.

  "No. I would like to tell you something though...while we eat."

  "It doesn't include stabbing me or any other bodily harm because I flew here does it?" She laughs at my joke, and I feel better already. Our tension has subsided, and we're back to the playfulness.

  "No, but there's this place I think you'll like. It's called Yeoman's. It's a little pub with great beer and excellent food. Plus, it's not far from here. We can walk if you like."

  "You know how I love to walk and talk with you. Please, lead the way," I say extending my hand out in front of me. Surprisingly, instead of walking ahead of me, she grabs my hand and we walk side by side. It's such a small act, so I let her lead me out into the sunshine down the sidewalk towards Yeoman's.

  ******

  "What do ya think?"

  I roam my gaze around the pub. Black and white checkered floor, neon and lighted beer signs by mirrors with beer logos, red and blue booths positioned parallel to the wood bar, flags hanging from the black ceiling, and on the left wall is the best of all...the Wall of Foam.

  "I think this is one of the best places you've brought me to so far. I must ask though. What is the Wall of Foam?"

  It looks awesome. It's a wall made of rectangular plaques of all colors and designs with people's names on them. Gotta be some type of contest or something. You know those places that have the eat a 10lb hamburger, 2lbs of fries, and a gallon milkshake in an hour or whatever? Yeah, but it's not a simple Polaroid shot. Some plaques have wallet size pictures while others have feathers, glitter, small guitars, nails, beer caps, or other small trinkets showing off the name on the plaque.

  "I've never tried it, but I know people who have. It's a challenge for the patron to try 90 different beers in 90 days. So, a new beer a day for 90 days. You do it, and voilà...your name's on the wall."

  "Sounds fun. Although I would love to come here for three months and drink a different beer a day, my company would frown upon that. How about we both try something we've never had before?"

  "Sounds good. Pick your poison, Mr. Knight."

  I peruse the beer list with avid curiosity. Some of these I've heard of in my travels, whereas others I haven't, but the name makes me want to try them. Come on. Who wouldn't wanna try Haze and Infused, Delirium Nocturnum, Loose Cannon, Old Chub, Purple Haze, or SkullSplitter Orkney Ale? Okay, maybe not such much the Old Chub, but the others sound interesting.

  "I'll take the Delirium Nocturnum," Lil states pulling me away from the beer menu.

  "Let me guess. You picked the only beer with chocolate in it." I joke.

  "I’m serious about my chocolate," She replies with the straightest of faces. "And it's not the only one with chocolate. Look." She points to her beer choice then to the others with hints of chocolate.

  "Why not the Young’s Double Chocolate Stout?" I question.

  "I'm trying something different, remember?" Lil returns with a smirk. "You can try that though. If you don't like it, I can always take it off your hands. It's quite good."

  "I'll take your word for it. It's a toss-up between a Turbodog or a Hercules Double IPA. Have you had either?"

  "Well, obviously, the Turbodog has a chocolate undertone, so yes, I've tried that one. I haven't had the other."

  "Then I'll get the Hercules Double IPA, and you can taste a new beer."

  "And I suppose you want to taste mine?"

  Even though in that moment I know she was talking about the beer. I wasn't. I wanted so bad to taste her lips."That's a given."

  A few minutes later, the waitress comes by to take our beer and food order. I order the Manchester burger while Lil orders the Island burger. When our beer arrives, we laugh and try the other's beer. They were both pretty good, but her chocolate addiction won saying hers was definitely better.

  "What is it that you wanted to tell me?" I ask after our food is delivered.

  "Another time maybe. Things are good," She replies taking a bite out of her fry.

  "Lil, you wanted to tell me something. Please. You can trust me."

  She wipes her lips with her napkin and swallows her food. I hope she can open up some. I want to know all I can about her. Even though she shields her past from me, I know there are things in it that have affected who she is.

  She seems uneasy to talk to me. I don't know if that's because I wasn't completely honest before or because she really is scared to tell me this part of her past. Before I start to tell her it's okay if she can't talk to me about it, her sweet voice begins.

  "I was just going to tell you about the last day I was here, but I don't want to drag this day through the mud with something depressing."

  Depressing? I know she's been in New York for a couple months, but I don't think she's ever told me the exact day she moved. Her explanations have always been vague when she spoke of the period of time after I left.

  "Have you told anyone about it?" I question.

  "Well, some people already know, but no one in New York does."

  "Then, I would love for you to tell me," I reply putting my hand over hers on the table. "What happened the last day
you were here?"

  She takes a deep breath and gazes at my hand over hers. Without looking up, she asks me, "Remember the day you told me about over-drinking in your office?"

  Cocking my head to the side, I stare at her. There is only one day that I've ever gone above and beyond my alcohol limit and it just so happens that was the day in my office. "Your wedding day? That was your last day here?" I ask in disbelief.

  Lil nods and turns her palm up to wrap her delicate fingers around my hand keeping her eyes fixed on her movements. I turn our hands so I can start to run my thumb along her knuckles.

  "Yes," She says finally. "It was my wedding day."

  I'm silently urging her to continue, but I show no other sign of encouragement. I'm just waiting for her to explain what happened. She didn't marry him, and I know it was Damon who had the change of heart.

  "It started out like everything I always dreamed, well, minus my best friend acting funny. Everyone looked happy or maybe that was how I perceived it." She shakes her head a couple of times before taking some calming breaths. She's quiet for another minute, but she's staring at her thumbs movement over my knuckles. It's a soft touch and I can't deny the burning feeling her touch elicits on my skin. Another minute passes before she begins again. "Anyways, I get up to the alter and hold Damon's hands, and something about the moment makes me tense like it's wrong in some way."

  It wasn't right because it wasn't me.

  There's another one of those wayward thoughts that kinda freaks me out a little. How can I think that with so many reservations I have about marrying the right woman?

  "When Father Collins said that horrible line..."

  "What line?"

  "You know. That line that makes everyone in the church look back and forth wondering which person is going to stand up and object to the marriage."

  "Oh. Yeah, I've heard that line a time or two."

  "Well, that's when I heard Nora tell me she can't watch us get married."

  "Nora? Your best friend?"

  I had a feeling there was something going on with Damon and her best friend Nora. Working at the same company doesn't throw up any red flags but working late nights continuously surely does. However, Lillian always does see the good in people; I'm sure she didn't connect the two at the time since she was submerged in wedding plans and work herself.

  "What did Damon say?" I ask trying to get some more information on the aftermath of Nora's objection.

  "I asked him if he felt the same and he confirmed his feelings. I was upset and hurt but also highly embarrassed. I didn't make a scene by yelling and screaming. My parents taught me better than that. Instead, I told them I would never forgive them, and they should have told me sooner."

  I don't remember ever imagining this possibility. The one where she is hurt beyond belief. I could tell Damon crushed her but never to this extent. I'm aching for her, but oddly satisfied that she didn't marry that asshole. Does that make me an asshole too? I mean what loser waits until the wedding to reveal to his wife-to-be that he's in love with someone else? And then, I immediately think of the situation we find ourselves in and some of her reactions and remarks. It makes sense now. She's afraid I'm like Damon and will ruin Addison.

  I close my eyes tightly to try and sort through my thoughts. Lillian doesn't have a hateful bone in her body. She’s caring, compassionate, loving, enthusiastic about her work, and takes into consideration the feelings of other's around her, all of which make her the most incredible woman I've ever met.

  I let out a long breath. I would give anything to take this pain away from her so she's not burdened with it anymore. I want to protect her from harm and prevent anyone from hurting her emotionally ever again. I want to shower her with the affection she deserves not just because she needs it but because I want to give it to her.

  I’ve always been the one ruled by my emotions underneath my controlled exterior. Lillian is right there wrapped up in everything I feel. I know I am unequivocally falling hard for this extraordinary woman.

  Chapter 22

  Lillian

  Brayden isn't saying anything, and it's making me nervous. Telling him about that day wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I know he's understanding and doesn't judge me, but I've deliberately kept certain aspects of the ceremony out of the explanation. In my defense, I don't think he would be able to handle me hallucinating him before I walk down the aisle to another man. He would think I was insane. However, it doesn't make the feeling I'm lying to him go away any quicker.

  In an attempt to lighten the mood, I say, "See? I told you it was depressing?"

  When his warm chocolate eyes open to mine, I smile, but I see the intensity my body never could deny. I could sense him breaking through my half truths to the crux of what I battled with for months before that dreaded day. It's like he could see the nights I cried to be in his arms, the times I revisited places we went to just feel closer to him again, the dreams I had of us together as a couple, and more importantly, he could see that I am falling for him by offering these unspoken pieces of myself.

  "Lillian, yes, it's depressing for you, and I wish I can take that feeling away. No one should ever have to go through that."

  I shrug saying, "It is what it is."

  "No, where most women would probably go complete bridezilla by ruining her wedding, you chose to voice your thoughts maturely. How is that possible? How were you so collected when they hurt you so badly?"

  I don't know. I've never been that girl. You know. The one who starts drama or who needs to be the center of attention. I fall in the background doing what I need to do to move forward. Photography has always been something I enjoy doing because I never liked the pressures others put on me. It's not just an outlet; it's a passion. Maybe it's photography that's played a role in how I conduct myself with others. I like simple. Complicated throws me off-balance.

  "I guess I felt there wasn’t anything I could do to change the situation. I did cry, but only shortly before Father Collins offered me a cab. I felt more in control when I was the one able to manage the variables."

  "Where did the cab take you?" He asks genuinely interested in the details surrounding my actions.

  I know if I tell him the truth he's going to ask other questions, which will lead me to be honest and divulge the pieces I'm not disclosing. I'm unsure if I want to go this far. I've already told him I thought about him, but will he still be sitting here if he knew exactly all the ways I've thought about him since that day at the photography museum?

  Calming my breathing, I try and formulate a response that would at least get him to stop asking too probing questions. I just don't think I'm ready to lay all my thoughts out there yet.

  "I went to my apartment here and grabbed my things. I couldn't stay here anymore. I got on the first flight out of Tampa. I just needed to get away."

  His questions stopped as we finished our meal in comfortable silence. I have no doubt he's trying to process everything he just found out. It's a lot, which is the main reason it's taken me so long to deal with things myself, and I went through it.

  When we've completed our burgers, Brayden pays and we walk back to the hospital. He mentions he has to look at a few properties while he's here, but doesn't go into great detail. I feel all my information has made him pity me, and I never wanted that.

  "Do you mind if I walk you back up to your father's room?"

  "Sure, but if you have somewhere to be don't let me keep you." He does pity me like I'm some fragile little flower that's going to wilt. I haven't done so yet, and I don't plan on it.

  "Nowhere to be, but I just wanted to make sure it was okay. You know a while ago we were in there and you had to literally pull me away." He replies with a small laugh.

  Alright, I might be able to salvage this little pity thing.

  "I pulled you away because it seemed like you didn't want to leave. Plus it's my parents. Why would you wanna talk with them anyway?"

  "Lil, I haven't met parent
s that didn't like me. It's no big deal. Your parents are interesting."

  "Really? Like the whole few minutes in there gave you insight to their personalities." I quip.

  "Well, it's because their your parents," He replies lacing his fingers with mine as we walk the last few corridors to my father's room.

  I'm a little confused. This gesture doesn't seem like he pities me, and what's with the comment about they’re my parents? Should I try to analyze that further? Brayden confuses me so much in the sense that his actions and comments baffle me sometimes. Our friendship has definitely always been complicated, which is why things he does catch me off-guard and I don't know how to respond or react.

  With his fingers laced through mine, I feel I can take on the world. It's security from the storm, a shield for the hurt, and a promise I'm safe. I feel that contentment; I need it. My father is here in a hospital with cancer, that’s curable, thank God, and I know I need Brayden's emotional support. I'm stronger with him. I can see that now.

  My inner strength deflates until it's lying on the floor when I open my father's door to see Nora talking with my mother. I visibly tense all over, and I feel Brayden's arm go around my waist protectively. He's never met Nora, but I'm sure by my reaction he can tell something's not right.

  "Lil?" Nora asks surprised at my sudden appearance.

  I want to ask why she's here, and then ask my parents why they didn't call me to tell me she showed up. They know I don't want to speak with her, but I can't be mad at them. They wouldn't do that to hurt me. I want to be mad at Nora, but seeing her after months of being without her only makes me want to hug her. I've missed being with her so much.

  "Yeah," I reply. My voice shaky with built up emotion.

  She walks up to me, and I still can't move. I don't know what to say or do. I've read her messages even though I was drunk for many of them, it still made my heart hurt not to be able to talk with her in person. This woman shared so many things with me; she's a sister.