by J. C. Hayden
What about Brody?
The voice in my head interrupted my dark and sad thoughts, and I paused. He was a man I knew could stay. I saw the way he loved Catrina with all of his heart. Sure, he’d fucked up when we were in college, but since then, he had always been there for Catrina. They were married. They were going to have a baby. Brody had stayed.
Jack had stayed. Despite how much I had tried so hard to push him away at every turn, despite what Rachel thought, Jack stayed, and when I forced him to leave, he came back. He’d loved me even then. I didn’t want to believe that he’d loved me the past six years, but in all the time I’d known him, Jack had never once lied to me. He’d loved me since then. And maybe… I didn’t want to dare hope, but maybe he would love me for a long time. Maybe even forever.
He stayed. And I loved him.
That night, I cried in the bed Jack and I had shared until I fell asleep. Around three in the morning, I woke up with an idea in my mind. I must have been dreaming about it or unconsciously forming the idea in my head long before that because it was so urgent that it had woken me from a deep sleep.
My eyes were puffy as I reached to the side of my bed and pulled my tablet out of my bag. I scrubbed both my hands down my face, and opened my email app.
I really hoped he had the same email, but even if he didn’t, I needed to get all of this out. I refused to look for him on social media because I knew it would only do more harm than good. So it had to be email. If he never saw it, then so be it. But this note, these words, had been in my heart for so long that the only way I was truly going to be able to move forward was if I sent the email I should’ve sent years ago.
Vincent,
I don’t know if you’ll ever see this. I don’t care if you do. You don’t even have to respond. But I need to say this.
What you did to me was evil and cruel. You told me you loved me, made me believe that you wanted a life with me, and the second you got the chance, you tossed me aside like I was nothing to you. Like I was trash.
You never saw me after that, so you’ll have no idea how much pain you caused. I could try to tell you, but my words won’t do justice to the devastation you left behind. It stayed with me. For years, I never believed men when they told me they wanted to be with me. I believed they were all like you. I believed they would all somehow do to me what you did to me, and I didn’t think I could live through another heart break like that.
It wasn’t until recently that I finally began to see that not all men are like you. I finally see that there are other men out there who are capable of being honest and true, who are capable of showing real love, and not a “love” that’s predicated entirely on lies, deceit, and ugliness.
I thought it was my fault. If only I’d loved you more, changed for you, been exactly who you wanted me to be, then I could have the love I wanted. And if I couldn’t change who I was, then I would just have to avoid love entirely. You made me believe I didn’t deserve to be loved as I am. That no one could possibly love me, because if that was possible, you would’ve stayed.
I know now—only just now—that that’s not true. What you did was about you, not about me. It was about what you wanted and who you were. I am worthy and deserving of love. Maybe you didn’t see that. Maybe you aren’t capable of seeing that in others. Maybe now you are. I hope so. I hope you’re happy and that you’ve found what you wanted.
I’m not expecting a response. But these words have been inside me for so long, and they belong out in the world. They belong out of my head and out of my heart. I don’t have room for them anymore. I wish you all the best.
Talia
I ended the email with the exact words he’d texted to me so long ago. Almost a decade ago. I didn’t know if he would notice or care that I’d thrown his words back at him. I still didn’t even know if he would see it. But I needed him to own those words. I needed those words to not be part of me ever again.
Because even though Rachel’s words had crawled inside me, it was the damage done by Vincent and Kenny that was truly stopping me from being able to move forward.
When I hit send, the sense of relief that washed over me made me feel almost light headed. But I needed to do one last thing.
I printed the email. As I heard it sliding through the printer that my mom kept in the guest room, I slipped shoes on my feet, and I took the printed email off the printer and walked into the living room. My coat was on the hanger on one of my mom’s closet doors. I put it on, and quietly made my way across the small house and into the kitchen. As quietly as I could I slid open a drawer. When I found what I was looking for, I tiptoed to the front door.
The water near my mom’s house was just a short walk away. I crossed the deserted street and pulled my coat tighter around me as I felt the wind pick up as I got closer to the water’s edge. I pulled the lighter I’d found in my mom’s kitchen drawer out of my coat pocket along with the email. I unfolded the paper, held the lighter to the corner of the page, and watched as it ignited. I let it burn about halfway through before I dropped it into the water.
I stood there and watched the ashes float away, along with the painful memories of a past I didn’t need to let burden me anymore.
I wanted to be free. I was free. Nothing anyone had said or done could be my burden to bear anymore.
My mom was sitting on the porch steps when I walked back to the house. Neither of us spoke as I sat down next to her. She wrapped her arm around my shoulders, and we sat there together in the cold November night air, while I looked up at the stars and hoped that Jack was okay.
◆◆◆
I was exhausted when I woke up the next morning. My eyes felt swollen, my mouth was insanely dry, and when I opened my eyes, the first thing I thought about was Jack and my plan for the rest of the day. I would spend the day with my mom at the diner and then make the drive back to Boston. I wouldn’t even stop at home, I would just go straight to his place and hope like hell that he was there and that he would even talk to me. I would tell him about Rachel and Vincent and how I had finally let all of that shit go.
I didn’t know if I was ready to tell him I loved him yet because some of the fear still lingered, but I knew I wasn’t afraid for him to love me. And even if I couldn’t say it, I would do my best to love him in every way I knew how.
I was jonesing for coffee after I got dressed and pushed open the bedroom door. I knew my mom would already be at the diner, and I was hoping she’d just made a fresh pot so I could drink every last drop.
I grabbed my coat off the hanger on the back of the door, but yelped and dropped it before I could even put it on.
“J-Jack?”
He stood up from where he was sitting on the couch. He ran his hands nervously down the front of his jeans.
He looked more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen. He was wearing black jeans and a black sweater that did nothing to hide his beautifully ripped body. His hair wasn’t done, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He had dark circles under his eyes, which were rimmed red, and there was a generous layer of stubble on his jaw. But he was a vision. And if I was still in doubt about how I felt about him, it all would’ve washed away in that moment.
“Hi.”
“What are you…” I trailed off as I took several steps closer to him.
“I had to know you were okay.” His voice was hoarse. I hated seeing the proof of the pain I’d caused, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. “I needed to see you. Catrina called.”
“What?”
“She told me about Rachel coming to Gia’s.”
Oh.
“Oh.” I nodded but didn’t trust my voice to say more than that.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I…” I swallowed and took a deep breath, hoping it would stop my voice from shaking while knowing that it wouldn’t. “I didn’t get a chance.”
Jack nodded. “I talked to her. She’s not… we don’t need to worry about her anymore.” All I could do
was nod and trust him because then he was talking again. “I’m so sorry she did that, and I’m sorry I freaked you out,” he said slowly. “But I won’t apologize for what I said, and I won’t take it back.” I nodded stupidly again, and he walked closer so that we were only about a foot apart. “I’m in love with you. And I don’t know what I’ll have to do to prove it to you, but I’ll work my ass off to do that. I want to be with you in whatever way you’ll have me. Even if it means you’ll never tell me you love me back. I don’t care because I know that you do even if it scares you. I’m not leaving this time.” He stood straighter. “I won’t let you push me away again. I’m staying. Let me stay, Talia. Let me be the guy who stays.”
We held each other’s stares for a long time. I could see every bit of love and honesty in his eyes, and I hoped he could see mine.
“Please stay,” I whispered.
His arms were around me a moment later. We stood there embracing, just hugging each other, and I refused to let him go.
“I’m sorry I ran,” I said into his ear.
He just shook his head and I held onto him tighter. I slid one hand up into his hair and pulled his head down onto my shoulder. His arms were so tight around my waist that I was on my toes.
“I need to say something,” I said into his neck.
After a bit, Jack pulled back and guided us both to the couch. We sat down facing each other.
“Do you remember Vincent Cunningham? The guy I dated freshman year?”
Jack frowned and nodded.
“Did you ever know how we broke up?” When he shook his head, I told him the whole story, and by the end, Jack looked like he was ready to spit fire.
“He told me he loved me the day he left for New York,” I murmured. “He’d told me he loved me so many times before that. Kenny told me he loved me, too. ‘Love you, Tally,’ he would say. And I believed him. I believed them both, and I thought that’s what love was. I thought Vincent loved me. But now I know he never did.
“Love is about truth and honesty, and that was something neither of them ever gave me. Love is about putting the other person first, and neither of them did. I wanted to be what they wanted me to be. I wanted to do whatever it took for them to love me enough to stay, and it didn’t matter. Whatever they felt for me wasn’t love. Not without conditions. You have never tried to change me. You have never asked me to be or expected me to be anyone other than me. You have loved me unconditionally.” My voice broke on the last word, and Jack scooted closer and took one of my hands in his.
“I don’t know if you’ll love me fifty years from now,” I continued, my voice raspy with emotion. “I don’t even know if you’ll love me tomorrow. I’ve been so scared of you leaving that I didn’t even think about how it would be if you stayed. But I want to be in this now. With you. Who knows what will happen? Maybe one day you’ll wake up and realize you want something—someone—different.” He opened his mouth like he was going to interrupt, but when I kept talking, he closed his mouth.
“But I don’t care. I don’t care if you want to leave one day because right now I just want you here. With me. I want to be with you. I don’t want to worry about tomorrow anymore. Just stay today. We’ll worry about tomorrow when it comes.”
I was in his arms again. And when he snuggled into my neck, I giggled and fell on my back, and he was on top of me. I spread my legs for him, and he looked down at me, one arm braced next to my head and the other on the back of the couch.
“I love you.”
His whispered words were like a prayer.
It was true. I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but I would take all the love he would give me until he wasn’t willing to give it anymore. I wasn’t going to let the past haunt me and rule over me. I was going to be with the person I loved for as long as he would have me. For as long as we were happy. Because for the first time in my life I knew that a man truly loved me. Without conditions. And it was perfect.
Chapter 23
“‘It’s so wonderful to hear from you, Talia,’” I read to Catrina. “‘I’ve thought about you so much over the years. What I did to you was unforgivable. I would give anything to change what I did, but I can’t. You deserve every happiness in the world. If you find in your heart to forgive me one day, I would love to reconnect. I’m sure you’re even more beautiful than you were ten years ago.’”
“He is such a fucking skeeze!” Catrina said when I finished.
“Right? I just told him he ruined my life for a decade, and he’s trying to fucking flirt with me.”
“So gross,” Catrina said, shaking her head. “Are you going to reply?”
I shook my head and put my phone face down on the table. “Nope. No need to. I let all that shit go up in Vermont. I’m happy. And I don’t need anything from him ever again.”
Catrina put her head in her hand and looked at me dreamily. “Your love story is so epic.”
I chuckled and rolled my eyes at her. “You’re a hopeless romantic.”
She smiled. “I totally am.”
“So, how’s that little monster treating you?” I asked, gesturing toward Catrina’s stomach. I loved the way she rubbed her small stomach when she looked down happily and then back up at me.
“So much better now,” she replied. “No more puking my guts out, but I’m hormonal as hell. I alternate between crying and being horny at all times.”
I laughed loudly, and Catrina was giggling until suddenly her face turned incredibly serious.
“Holy shit.”
I looked over my shoulder to see what Catrina was looking at.
The restaurant we were in was relatively empty since it was four o’clock in the afternoon on the Friday after Thanksgiving. There was a couple sitting on the other side of the dining room, and a woman with short blonde hair sitting at the bar.
“What?”
“That’s Holly.”
I looked over my shoulder and back at Catrina again.
“Who?”
“Holly Goldsmith,” Cat whispered. “From college.”
I gaped and looked back again. I could only see the dark blonde hair. “Are you sure? Didn’t Holly have super long super blonde hair?”
Holly Goldsmith had basically been Catrina’s and my archnemesis at Klein. During our senior year, Holly had teased Cat about being a virgin and then proceeded to post on social media about it. It had ended up striking up a no strings relationship between Cat and Brody that had ended in them falling in love, but Holly had been a huge jerk to both Cat and I way before that. Every time we’d see her, she’d whisper to her friends about us and then laugh loudly enough to draw attention. She always sarcastically complimented my clothes, and told Catrina how much she loved red heads, even though her tone dripped with insincerity. She was the definition of a mean girl.
“I’m going to go talk to her.”
I looked at Catrina like she’d said she was going to join the circus.
“What? Why? She’s evil.”
Cat rolled her eyes. “She’s not evil.”
My jaw dropped. “Okay, obviously you’re suffering from some memory loss. Did you forget she called you out for being a virgin in room full of people? Do I need to pull up that Facebook post where she talked about finding out someone was a virgin? Do you I need to remind you of when we were out at the reservoir and she asked in front of everyone if you were still a virgin?”
“That was six years ago,” Catrina hissed. “You didn’t see her face when she turned around earlier. I did. She looked really, really sad.”
“So? Even wicked witches get sad sometimes! Remember when the Witch of West’s sister died? She was all broken up over that.”
I could tell Catrina was trying not to laugh, and she tried to give me a stern look. “I’m serious, Talia, she looked really sad and tired. And.” She shrugged. “I probably wouldn’t be married to Brody and pregnant with his child right now if she hadn’t been such a rotten B word.”
I snorted. “Ug
h. Fine! I’ll go over there with you, but I’m not going to talk to her.”
“Yes, you will,” she said as she stood up and grabbed my arm. “Come on.” She dragged me through the restaurant around several tables until we were standing behind the woman.
“Holly?”
She practically jumped out of her skin when Catrina said her name. When she looked over her shoulder she looked like a scared rabbit, ready to scamper away at the smallest sign of danger.
“Catrina?” She looked at me. “Talia?”
“Hi,” Catrina said with a smile. “We saw you from over there and thought we’d come say hello.”
Holly looked suspicious, but Catrina was right about everything else. Her skin was pale and had an almost gray tint to it. She had dark circles under her pretty blue eyes. She looked exhausted and more than just sad. She looked downtrodden, like the years had done a serious number on her. I tried to harden myself to the pang of sympathy in my stomach, but it was impossible. I may have hated her in college, but this woman sitting in front of us was clearly hurting.
“Are you back in Boston now?” Catrina asked.
Last we’d heard, she’d moved back home to Virginia.
“Just got back last month.”
Catrina waited for her to say something more, but she didn’t.
“What are you doing now? Where are you working?”
“I’m a nurse,” Holly told Catrina.
Catrina looked at me for help and I just shrugged. Then she looked back at Holly and seemed to think something over.
“Talia’s in a band,” she said, and I frowned at her, unsure of where the hell she was going with this. “She plays shows pretty much every weekend. She’s doing a solo show this weekend because her band is still looking for a new guitarist, but you should come.”