The One (The Halo Series Book 2)

by Kimberly Knight

  I didn’t tell my parents that I was coming. I knew they’d take me in no matter what. When I arrived at their house, I stayed in my car and sat in front of their house. I decided that I should tell Avery and Brooke that I was okay. It was only right.

  Pulling out my cell phone, I cried harder, looking at all the missed calls and text messages.

  Avery: Baby, please don’t do this. I love you. Come home.

  Avery: I know you’re hurting. I’m hurting too. We can get past this.

  Avery: Please respond to me. Tell me you’re okay.

  Avery: I love you.

  Avery: Nic, please!

  Avery: Just tell me you’re okay. I love you so much.

  Avery: You’re strong enough for me. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever been with. Please. I love you!

  Avery: Say something.

  Avery: I’m not giving up on us, Nic. You’re the one for me. I love you!

  Avery: If you want this to be goodbye, then you need to do it face to face. This is bullshit, Nic. I love you. I. LOVE. YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  Avery: I’m never going to give you up, Nic. You’re not alone in this. We both lost a part of ourselves five days ago, but YOU make me stronger. I know we can get past this. The doc said it was common. Just come home, Baby. I love you!

  Avery: I can’t do this anymore. The silence is killing me. If you want to walk out of our lives, fine. Just know that no one, and I mean NO ONE will ever love you as much as I love you. You’re the one, Nic. My one. My fighter. My Laila. I love you!

  Avery: Just tell me you’re okay and I’ll leave you alone since that’s obviously what you want.

  Avery: Dammit, Nic! No one has heard from you. Please just tell me you’re okay!

  Avery: I’m sorry.

  Avery: I love you!

  Avery: If you don’t want to talk to me, at least tell Brooke you’re okay. She’s worried about you too.

  The last text from Avery came only three minutes prior. I sent a text to Brooke that I was okay then one to Avery while tears continued to roll down both cheeks.

  Me: I’m at my parents’. I’m sorry. I just need time. Seeing you hurting, was hurting me more. You deserve someone better. Someone who won’t run. Someone who won’t lose your baby.

  Before I could throw my phone back into my purse so I could go inside the house, Avery texted back.

  Avery: Bullshit!

  Avery: I deserve YOU, Nic!

  Avery: I love you!

  Avery: I’ll give you time, but know that I’m hurting more since you left. You have my heart, Nic. Believe it or not. You’re the one I want to be with. We can get past this. I love you and will only ever love YOU!

  I sat there, staring at the phone, contemplating if I should text him back. I could barely see the screen from my tear-filled eyes as I cried at his words. Was I doing the right thing?

  I decided to send him one final text.

  Me: I just need time.

  I wanted to tell him that I loved him. I did. But if I told him, I knew he’d fight harder for me and I just needed time. Time to be alone. Time to think. Time to heal. I didn’t know how long it would take, if at all, but I was risking a lot because if I took too much time, Avery might find someone stronger.

  My life felt like it was spiraling out of control. I’d made the decision to go on a cruise less than a year ago. I was expecting it to change my life, I just didn’t know how much.

  When I walked into my parents’ house and my mom saw me, she ran, engulfing me in a hug, a hug I didn’t realize I needed, and then we both cried on the living room floor. No one can take the pain away from you. You have to do it yourself and sometimes it takes time. But it felt like time would never heal the hurt I was feeling deep in my broken heart.

  “Time heals all wounds,” my mom whispered as I cried in her arms.

  What was time? A day? A week? A month? A year?

  As we cried together on the living room floor, my father walked in and sat in his favorite reclining chair, not saying anything. After a few minutes, I stood and crawled into his lap. There were no words to be said; only comfort. And then he said the words that everyone kept saying, “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  How could they know that?

  How could anyone know? The pain I was feeling was unbearable and I didn’t know if I’d ever feel like I was worthy of anyone’s love again.

  Day Two Without Nicole

  My alarm blared in my ears, wanting to wake me up so that I could meet Easton at the gym before we needed to get to Halo. But I was already awake. It seemed that no matter what, the moment sleep came, I dreamed of her. Dreamed of her cornflower blue eyes. Dreamed of her blonde hair spread across my pillow. Dreamed of her smile. Dreamed of her laugh. Dreamed of her—period.

  She was the first thing I thought of when I woke up and it stung. It hurt. It burned. It felt like someone was trying to rip my heart from my chest and feed it to the wolves. No matter what I did, I couldn’t escape the hurt—couldn’t escape her memory.

  I hadn’t heard from her in two days and while I tried not thinking of her, it was impossible. Everything reminded me of her: my bed, my couch, my kitchen table, my truck, Halo, every song on the radio and every blonde girl that I saw.

  Nicole was lucky. She’d left, so she wasn’t surrounded by everything she touched. I wasn’t the lucky one. Everything smelled like her and when I went to eat, I steered clear of cheese. Cheese made me think of her. Cheese wasn’t a bad thing like we’d thought. Cheese was a good thing. But cheese was now bad because cheese made me think of her and what we’d lost.

  I wanted to respect her and give her the time she needed, but I wanted her to know that I still loved her.

  Me: I love you!

  I didn’t expect a return text, but I planned on sending it when I woke in the mornings and when I went to sleep for as many days as it took until I had her back. When I’d texted her that I wasn’t going to give up on us, I’d meant it. And if one day past when she didn’t hear from me, I couldn’t chance that she’d think I moved on.

  I wanted to go back to a week ago and take away her pain. Maybe the way we found out that we lost our baby was her undoing. Maybe if the fetal demise as the doctor called it, would have been one that she bled from the loss and wasn’t walking around for three weeks thinking she was pregnant, it would have been easier.

  I wanted to go back to two days ago and never leave her side. I would have done something—anything to make her happy. I would have told her that I was okay because even though I was heartbroken about our baby, I was lost without her. My world was crashing down around me and I couldn’t go to her. I would have lied to make her stay because I knew with time, we could heal each other.

  Every minute of every day, I wanted to get in my truck and drive to Boston. But she’d told me she needed time and if I went there begging her to come home, I knew she wouldn’t. It had to be on her time.

  But what if that time never came?

  Fucking what-ifs!

  I felt like my life started the day Nicole and I met. For so long I was searching, wanting to find that person to spend the rest of my life with and when I found Nicole, I knew; I knew she was the one. She was my reason to live. My reason to breath. My reason to love.

  Now my reason to love was back to being four and half hours away. I never thought she’d leave again; that I’d wake up alone in my bed on another Monday.

  Finally pulling myself out of bed, I threw on a pair of black gym shorts, a black T-shirt and my black gym shoes—everything was black because no matter how I felt, I was still mourning. I’d been ignoring everyone for the past two days and when Easton told me that we were going to the gym, even if he had to drag me there, I decided that it was time to get out of the house.

  “Hey,” he said, getting out of his car when he saw me get out of my truck in the gym’s parking lot.

  “Hey,” I replied with a chin lift.

  “You wanna talk about it?�
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  “No,” I snapped. “I definitely don’t want to talk about it.”

  “All right. Let’s go beat shit up.”

  I nodded and followed him as we walked through the gym to where they had a boxing bag and gloves. Easton was right. I needed to beat shit up. I could feel the anger throughout my whole body. I was sad. I was depressed. I was heartbroken, but most of all, I was angry.

  I knew that Nicole and I could get past this curve ball life was throwing at us. I knew that I could help her. I could take the pain away, but I was angry she wasn’t letting me.

  After I’d strapped on the gloves, Easton stepped behind the bag, his body pressed to it as I began to throw punches. It started out slow. A couple of jabs, a couple of hooks, combinations of both and then it started to get more intense. Everything in the last two weeks came crashing down and I hit the bag harder. I hit it with so much force that Easton had to put his whole body into it so I didn’t knock him over.

  Sweat was dripping down my face, down my body and I kept swinging.

  Right. Left. Right. Hook.

  Right. Left. Right. Jab.

  Right. Left. Jab. Uppercut.

  Right. Left. Uppercut. Kick.

  Kick. Kick. Kick. Kick. Kick. I growled as I lifted my leg and kicked the bag as hard as I could, over and over and over.

  “Fuck!” I shouted. Everyone in the gym turned to look at me and I fell to the floor, my hands covering my face.

  “Again?” Easton asked.

  I looked up at him. “Yeah.”

  I got to my feet and repeated beating the shit out of the bag. Easton didn’t say any words other than asking me if I wanted to go again when I would stop to catch my breath. I beat the shit out of that bag for over an hour before I could no longer feel anything, leaving me numb.

  Like my heart.

  The last time I walked into Halo, most of my world was intact. I didn’t know that when I would leave, my world would be pulled from me like a rug beneath my feet. I took a deep breath, opened the heavy wood front door and walked in.

  I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to be with Nicole, but I had to be at Halo. Easton had covered me enough in the last seven days, that I couldn’t ask him to do it again. Plus, Brooke had a doctor’s appointment that he said they couldn’t miss. I didn’t ask questions, I just nodded.

  The lunch crowd turned into the happy hour crowd. I was going through the motions: filling drinks, taking money, and pretending I cared about any of it.

  “What time do you get off?” a brunette asked me.

  I stared at her for a beat. This was what women usually asked Easton—not me.

  “Whenever I want,” I said, not caring if I was being nice or not.

  “You want to get out of here now?”

  “Yeah, but I can’t.”

  “I thought you said you could leave whenever you wanted to?”

  “I can.” I laughed. “I own the place.”

  “Then what’s stopping you?”

  “Her,” I said before I could stop myself.

  “Her?” the brunette asked, pointing to Joanna, our new bartender.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Girlfriend?”

  “No,” I said again. It was the truth.

  “Then who?”

  “No one. Want a shot on the house?” I asked, changing the subject.

  Her brown eyes brightened. “Sure!”

  I poured us each a shot of Jameson. I’d never drank on the job before. It wasn’t my style, but given the current circumstances, alcohol seemed to be the answer and I didn’t care if I was on the clock—so to speak.

  “Another?” I asked.

  “Sure!” No one passed up free alcohol.

  “Whatcha up to, boss?” Traver, one of my waiters asked.

  “Um…what’s your name?” I asked the brunette.

  “Gia.”

  “Gia and I are drinking. What else does it look like?”

  The look on Traver’s face told me that he knew this wasn’t my style. Employees weren’t allowed to drink on the job and that included me.

  “Grab a glass,” I told him.

  “That’s okay.” He gave a tight smile. “I’m going to go help the customers at the other end of the bar.”

  “Suit yourself.” I leaned on the wood bar in front of Gia when Traver walked away. “So tell me. What’s your sad story?” I asked her.

  “Why do you think I have a sad story?”

  “Why else would you be in a bar drinking alone and wanting to pick up men?”

  She blushed. “Just got dumped.”

  “What a coincidence. Me too.”

  “Sucks, huh?” she asked, taking a sip of her watered down Patron margarita.

  “Sure does.”

  “Wanna talk about?”

  “Do you?”

  “If you want to.” She shrugged.

  “This is going to take more than two shots.” I poured us another round. “You go first.”

  “Let’s just say there was a big misunderstanding. I was less than transparent and hid something. He took it the wrong way and ran.” She frowned.

  “I get the running.” I sighed. “She ran.”

  “I only had a few minutes to explain myself. That’s what kills me. Not being able to tell my side. I hate when people assume the worst of you.”

  “She didn’t let me explain either. She left while I was here,” I said, pouring us another shot of Jameson.

  “Fucking guts me,” she said, then downed the shot.

  “How do we get them back?” I asked, wiping my mouth after I downed the amber liquid. It burned down into my belly.

  “My plan,” Gia said, “is to go to him. He owes me at least five minutes. In that five minutes if he can’t understand why I did what I did…well, then it wasn’t meant to be.” She smiled warmly.

  I took a deep breath. “She told me to give her time. I can’t go to her. What do I do?”

  Gia thought for a moment. “My advice is to give her the time she asked for. If you decide that it’s not working for you anymore, call her. No, better yet, go see her. She needs to see your face.” She pushed her shot glass to me and I smiled, refilling it.

  “How long is time? It’s been two days.”

  “I’d say at least a week. Let her miss you. I know it’s hard. Fuck, it’s killing me also. He’s in Europe on tour doing God knows what. But, I know that time is essential. Let her heart ache for you for a few more days. I’m a woman. I know how hard it is for us. Believe me!” She took a deep breath then whispered, “I cry myself to sleep every night.”

  I gave a tight smile. I knew her pain exactly. I might be a man, but I knew what crying myself to sleep felt like. When we got the news that we’d lost our baby, we’d cried ourselves to sleep for four nights straight. “A week feels like an eternity.”

  “It’s been two weeks for me. That’s why I’m here drowning my sorrows, babe. Sucks, but it is what it is. Give her a few days. I promise it will be worth it. You push her too soon and she’ll bail again.”

  “You’re right.” I nodded. “Want another shot?”

  “Like you have to ask,” she said with a chuckle.

  After I’d poured another shot, I went to leave to help another customer, but Gia grabbed my hand, stopping me. “I can tell you’re a good guy. Another time, another place, and maybe something could have been different. But at least we can be friends.” She smiled.

  “Yeah. What’s your man’s band’s name?”

  “Lethal Abel.”

  “I look forward to seeing a concert with you.” I smiled.

  “If I get him back,” she murmured.

  “You will.” I nodded.

  I turned to go help customers and I saw Easton approaching out of the corner of my eye.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Traver called me.”

  “Why?” I asked, looking over at Traver. He gave me a tight smile. Fucking traitor.
r />   “Come with me to the office,” Easton said.

  I stumbled as I made my way up the stairs; the alcohol was starting to get into my system. I didn’t know if it was the booze or my conversation with Gia, but something was giving me hope.

  Closing the door behind us, Easton spoke. “Drinking on the job?”

  “Fuck off,” I slurred.

  “I get it, Av. Trust me, I get it. But you can’t drink in front of our customers and staff. You’ll give them the wrong idea.”

  “I know, man,” I snapped.

  “Plus it’s illegal and we can lose our license.”

  “I know!” I yelled.

  “Look, sit down on the couch and sleep it off. I’ll cover for you,” he said, trying to steer me to the couch.

  “What about Brooke?”

  “We’re done at the doctor’s.”

  “What happened?”

  “I’ll tell you when you’re sober. Just sleep it off and I’ll wake you when we close.”

  I stared at the couch for a few seconds, trying to focus on it. “How many girls have you screwed around with on this thing?”

  “You don’t want to know.” He laughed.

  Before I closed my eyes, I pulled out my cell phone and sent Nicole my nightly text to her.

  Me: I love you!

  Day Four Without Avery

  Avery: I love you!

  For the last four days since I’d walked away from Avery, I’d thought about him. I’d thought about him every second, every minute, and every hour. I’d thought about him every single day. I’d even thought about him showing up at my parents’ house and telling me how wrong I was for leaving him. I told him to give me time and he was, but I still didn’t know if that was what I wanted.

  My mother made me my favorite breakfast every morning, then my favorite lunch, and then my favorite dinner since I was finally eating again. My father sat in his reclining chair, watching sports, and not saying a word as I moped around, crying at commercials at the drop of a hat. What could he say? Fathers usually wanted to kill the boy in the relationship, but Avery had done nothing wrong. This was all me. It wasn’t Avery’s fault. It was all my fault.