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Page 23

by Gia Riley


  He’s hearing me, but he’s not listening. “I never rejected your proposal. Unless you’re saying it’s conditional.” I never considered he would give me an ultimatum. It’s how I finally understand that there’s more to this than what he’s letting on. “Why today, Kipton? What made today so important to you?”

  He tucks his arms under his head, propping himself up enough to see me as he talks. “Because I want you with me. I hate being apart. I worry all day long.”

  “This is because of Blaine isn’t it? If he hadn’t put me in the hospital, you wouldn’t have asked me today. You would have waited until school was over like we talked about.”

  He shrugs his shoulders, and I know I hit the nail on the head. He’s being impulsive to keep me close. Sadly, where I live won’t change Blaine’s plans. That I’m sure of. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, but I don’t want Blaine to have anything to do with your proposal or our marriage.”

  He glances at the ring he placed on my finger a short while ago. “Today was supposed to be amazing.”

  “It has been amazing. I have felt more connected to you than ever tonight. From the moment you laid me down, I felt it.”

  “I need more than that, Sophie. I need more than this treehouse.”

  “I don’t have anything else to give you right now, Kipton. I’m sorry I’m not enough.”

  “You are enough, beautiful. Seeing you in the hospital, it changed everything for me. Do you have any idea what it’s like to find out your girl was attacked because you weren’t close enough to protect her.”

  I shake my head because I don’t know what it’s like to be in his shoes. All I know is what it was like laying there missing him—wishing he was with me.

  “I failed you, Sophie. I can’t let that happen again.”

  I know the attack has been hard on him—it’s been hard on our relationship, but I never imagined it would be the force that’s breaks us. “Do you want the ring back?” I start to pull it off, but he stops me.

  “No,” he says in a defeated tone as he shakes his head. “It’s still yours.”

  Every time I look at this ring, I’ll think about how I let Kipton down. That’s not how I want to remember our engagement. I take a final look at the beautiful diamond on my finger before I take it off my finger and hand it back.

  “What are you doing, Sophie? I don’t want it back.”

  “Ask me again—if the time’s right. Right now, we aren’t on the same page. When we start our forever, I want it to be because we’re both ready. I want to focus on our future and not where Blaine is, or what he might do to me.”

  “Sophie, Blaine affected my decision. I won’t pretend he didn’t, but he’s always going to be a variable in our lives whether you like it or not.”

  “I know that.” He stares at me, waiting for me to continue. What I’m about to tell him will only make him worry more, but for his sanity and mine, I have to be honest. “Kipton, I won’t lie to you, I’m terrified of him. I worry every single day that he’ll come back and finish what he started—that I’ll never see you again.”

  “Then come home with me, Sophie. Let me keep you safe,” he pleads. It breaks my heart into a million pieces to see him so torn up.

  “I can’t let him control my every move anymore. I want a fresh start with you—one without hospitals, therapists, Blaine, or Dean. I need that more than anything. It has to be just me and you.”

  He stares at the floor boards, sadness now replacing the joy we experienced a short time ago. “Why does this feel like you’re saying good-bye?”

  “I’m leaving now, but not forever. I love you more than anything in this world, Kipton. I promise you that. Letting you down today breaks my heart, but I have to do this. My therapist has drilled it into my head over and over to fight. You’re not who I want to fight, especially not about this, but I have to finish this dream before I begin the next.”

  I can’t ask Kipton to understand, but I want him to marry me, not because it’s his only way to keep me close or away from Blaine. I only hope someday he can see that this was the best move for us.

  Before I break down and cry, I make my way to the ladder desperately needing space and fresh air. I want to crawl in bed and pretend life was easier—that I didn’t have to worry about people like Blaine.

  “Sophie, wait.”

  I turn around before reaching the ladder. Kipton’s eyes are sadder than I’ve ever seen. They make me want to throw it all away just to be with him.

  “I’m sorry I screwed this up so bad, beautiful.”

  “You didn’t. This treehouse will always be my favorite place in the world. It’s the only place I’ve ever felt alive and like nothing can get in the way.”

  “And I messed that up for you tonight.”

  “No you didn’t. It’s not the right time for us, that’s all.” I wait for him to say something else, but when he doesn’t, I inch over to the ladder, slowly leading myself down to reality. At the bottom, I take a shaky breath when both of my feet are firmly on solid ground. It’s not easy to walk away when my whole world is still up in the tree.

  I only make it a few feet before I hear a roar from Kipton. I’m almost positive he’s throwing one of the lanterns against the wall of the treehouse. I stand rooted in the middle of the yard, desperately wishing I could make him as happy as he’s made me—to give him back all the love he’s given me the past year of my life. But I use my faith to believe he will still want to marry me when I’m ready. I couldn’t have gotten this far on my own, and I pray he understands how truly grateful I am for pulling me out of my own hell.

  It would have been easy to keep the ring, to pretend like Kipton was all I needed to be happy. He’s been my source of strength, rescuing me over and over, but at some point, I have to learn to stand on my own two feet.

  The day I walk across the stage with my diploma, I want him waiting for me in the bleachers. By then I’ll have a new set of dreams to look forward to—the ones I plan to accomplish with him by my side.

  Wait for me, Kipton.

  “YOU’LL NEVER AMOUNT TO ANYTHING, Sophie, because you’re selfish.”

  “I curl into a tighter ball on the couch. Dad’s words surround me, but I fight against them. Desperately, I try to convince my heart it’s only the alcohol speaking, yet each syllable stings worse than the last.

  Mom rounds the corner from the kitchen, her apron in place like the perfect housewife Dad wants her to be. He thinks women belong in the kitchen serving him. “Dean, stop being miserable for five minutes. Sophie is very talented.”

  For once, Mom sticks up for me. Her praise is enough to counteract his latest drunken tantrum, but as fast as she jumps in to rescue me, the back of Dad’s hand finds her cheek. Unable to prepare for the unexpected blow, she stumbles backward knocking the lamp off the end table. It crashes to the floor, shattering the glass into tiny pieces. All that remains is a dangling lampshade. Even the bulb is destroyed.

  I run to help her as she winces from the impact. After dusting the shards off her apron, I dig out the tiny slivers of glass stuck in her palm. Her lean frame shakes ever so slightly as the adrenaline of the fight wears off. Little by little, her depression replaces her pain as Dean disappears while we’re left to pick up the pieces. “Sophie, I don’t want you to ever settle in life or love. Promise me no matter what, you’ll finish school and live your life for you. Don’t get swept up in what could be. Focus on what is.”

  I nod my head as tears prick my eyes. She doesn’t have to say the words for me to know she hates her own life—the one she wishes she could escape from. Dean swept her off her feet, and then turned into an alcoholic asshole. “I will, Momma. I’ll make you proud.”

  “No, Sophie. Just find the happiness I never could.”

  After seeing her so broken and worn out on more times than I can count, I swore I would never end up in a marriage like hers. But now that I think about it, I realize I’m more like my own mother than I eve
r thought. I faulted her for never leaving, yet here I am, still fighting the guy I did leave.

  I’m a hypocrite for pretending I had my shit figured out. I was strong enough to start over once Blaine went to jail, yet he’s still controlling me like a puppet. He holds my happiness in the palm of his hand, choosing when and where to reappear. Now he’s even weaved his way in between Kipton and me. He’s destroying my happily ever after.

  Just as I’m about to run to my journal in search of peace, the front door opens. Immediately, I overhear Cara and Drew talking about our engagement. Cara’s rambling a mile a minute about where the bachelorette party should be while Drew throws in his opinion on the guys’ party. Little do they know, I don’t even have the ring on my finger anymore.

  Not wanting to tell them the truth, yet knowing I have to, I make it to the end of the hallway before I struggle to speak. “Hey guys.” All I want to do is run back into the safety of my room where I have complete control over what happens next.

  Cara sits up on the couch practically knocking Drew face first onto the floor. “Sophie! I didn’t know you guys were here! We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” I question cluelessly. I never did stick around to hear the rest of Kipton’s plans for us tonight.

  “Kipton will kill me if I tell you, but I’ve been about to explode keeping his plans a secret.”

  “He’s not even here. You can tell me.”

  “Where is he?”

  The look of excitement on her face makes me panic. I’m not ready to rehash the last hour of my life yet. I need some time to process it first. So I do exactly what I shouldn’t. I lie. “He’s at the wrestling house cleaning up. I wanted to come home and grab a few things.”

  She grabs my arm and pulls me over to the couch. “He’s taking you to some romantic bed and breakfast. I forget the name. Ohmigod, you’re engaged, Sophie! I need details. Tell me everything!”

  “Cara,” Drew scolds. “Don’t give away the rest of the surprise.”

  “I’m not. I’m just so excited. I have a sister!”

  While she’s dancing around the living room with complete and total glee, I’m left feeling even worse. He had everything planned, and I let him down. If I already didn’t feel like complete shit, she just topped it off. “I won’t tell him you told me.” And that’s the truth considering I doubt I’ll hear from him anytime soon. “I have to finish packing before he comes looking for me.”

  The lies continue.

  I was planning to go to bed, but now that I’ve decided to live in the land of make believe, I pack my suitcase with enough clothing to hold me over for a day or two. Whatever I don’t have with me, I’ll find at the store.

  As much as I wish Kipton would knock on the door with a boom box on his shoulder playing one of my favorite sappy love songs, I know he won’t. This isn’t a cheesy eighties movie. His pride is hurt and regardless of who is hurting more, I don’t love him any less. Our expectations are different, but not our love—that I’m certain of.

  By the time I sneak back into the living room with my suitcase in tow, Cara and Drew are making out on the couch like a bunch of horny teenagers. They were probably banking on having the night alone to do whatever they wanted. From the looks of it, that includes a lot of sex.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow. Have fun,” I say quietly, as I sneak out the front door.

  “Hey! You didn’t show me the ring!” Cara yells as the door clicks shut.

  Once I settle in my car, I can see her peeking through the mini blinds in the front window. I give her a small wave and plaster a fake smile on my face. Appearances can be deceiving, and right now, mine is lying its ass off.

  Before I even drive out of the parking lot, my phone buzzes with a text.

  Cara: Send me a picture of the ring!

  Sophie: I will when I get there.

  More lies.

  Thankfully, the drive to dad’s house is short. But to get there, I have to pass by the wrestling house. Kipton’s car still sits in the same spot it was in when I left. Only now, many others surround it. With a party in full swing, I try not to imagine what he’s doing inside.

  Flashbacks of him taking body shots off Emily and triple kissing two girls at once makes me nauseous. He’s angry, not stupid, Sophie. At least I hope he’s not stupid enough to make that kind of mistake twice.

  By the time I get to dad’s house, my head is spinning. Knowing my legs are too shaky to stand on, I take a minute to get myself together. Staring at the front façade of his house, I wonder what it would have been like to grow up here instead of in Ashland. But who would Sophie Evans be if she was never holed up inside a dark closet for comfort, or purging in desperation to rid herself of the pain she couldn’t control?

  She would be whole.

  Kipton would ask me to marry him, and I’d run into his arms kissing him over and over. After I graduate, we would move into our own home where I wouldn’t take a second glance at any of the closets. They would only hold our coats and scarves—not my pain. My bedroom window would be unbroken. I would be unbroken. But that isn’t the way life went for me. So for now, I take Mom’s old advice. I forget about what could have been and focus on what is.

  Right now that includes lugging my suitcase up the porch stairs one at a time. At the top, I check the doorknob. When it turns, I push the door open, peeking inside the foyer. Laughter flows from the kitchen filling the night air with much needed happiness after the drama of the day.

  “Dad?” As I move down the hallway into the living area, the floor creeks with age beneath my feet. There’s no mistaking I’m here.

  “Hello?” I hear my dad ask. “It’s probably the kids with their good news,” he says proudly.

  I’ll be a disappointment here, too.

  I debate turning around and leaving, but with no place to go, I face my fate. Stepping around the wall dividing the foyer and living room, I stare at my parents sitting on the couch together. A cheese tray rests on the coffee table with a bunch of grapes sitting off to the side. It’s a stark contrast from the empty beer bottle and ash tray that always littered mom’s table.

  “Sophie!” Dad says with pride. “Your Mom and I were just talking about you.”

  I give him a warm smile. “All good, I hope.” I don’t know how to address mom let alone have an actual conversation with her. What do I say to a woman who lied to me my entire life?

  “Of course it’s all good, beauty. Come sit down and tell us about your night. Is Kipton coming inside?”

  I stare at the floor, ashamed to admit we aren’t even engaged. “No, he’s not.”

  Mom swallows her sip of wine before sitting up straighter. “I know that look. What’s going on, Sophie?” she asks.

  I raise my head, but my eyes automatically narrow as I stare at her. An all-consuming rage erupts inside me. My usually pale skin reddens as my blood pressure rises. I ball my hands into fists at my side in an attempt to stay calm enough to reply. “Kipton’s not coming.”

  “Did something happen?” Dad pats the sofa next to him, but I can’t sit down. For some reason, I need to stay on my feet. There’s so much I want to tell him, but I’m hesitant to open up with mom in the same room. It’s hard for me to trust her, especially with my deepest thoughts.

  My journal always gets the brunt of my anger in moments like these, but for once, I have to use my voice if anything is going to change. I’ve been harboring too much unhealthy resentment that I’m desperate to get rid of.

  So while I’m trying to figure out where to begin, mom takes it upon herself to try again. “Are you going to acknowledge me, Sophie?” She asks from the far end of the couch.

  Suddenly, the room feels smaller than its actual size. Dad usually fills the space with his easy going spirit making it seem larger than life whereas mom sucks the life right out of it. “I’m trying,” I tell her.

  “Talk to us, Sophie,” she begs. I should take this opportunity to express myself, but I
’m so used to keeping my emotions locked away inside me until they turn into an obsession. I’m not ready to open up to her yet.

  “I’m going to take my bag to my room. That’s if it’s okay I stay here for the night.”

  Mom looks to dad before asking, “Why can’t you stay at your apartment?”

  “Victoria, it’s fine. She has a room here,” Dad explains. He turns to me, sympathy etched into his compassionate smile. He knows today was already hard for me given Dean’s death. “Sophie, of course you can stay here.”

  “You have to stop running,” Mom says as she sips more wine.

  She has no room to talk about escaping when she’s been running from the truth her entire life. “Why are you even here? Your husband died this morning.”

  “Sophie!” Dad exclaims.

  For him this is rotten behavior, but for us, it’s fairly normal. More times than not we argue, rarely reaching an agreement unless it’s about something simple that doesn’t concern her marriage or Dean. If we focused on gymnastics, the world was right. Beyond that, everything was shoved under the rug where it was supposed to be. That’s how I ended up so overwhelmed—so desperate to release all the years of pent up anger I had stockpiled. “I’m sorry, Dad, but I’ve had enough for one day.”

  Dad stands up and stares between the two of us. He has no idea how to handle the two women he loves the most. Especially when they’re at odds with each other. “Come with me into the kitchen, beauty.”

  I follow him because I have nothing to say to my own mother. Until I forgive her, I can’t pretend that she didn’t hurt me. There’s not a chance in hell I can shove her betrayal under the rug.

  Dad gestures to a chair tucked under the kitchen table. “Sit.”

  I pull the chair out, and do as I’m told. “Kipton asked me to marry him.” For a minute his face lights up. He assumes it’s good news, but after he sees the sadness on my face, the smile disappears. “I said no.”

 

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