Forbidden

by Liliana Rhodes

  I can be a writer anywhere, I thought. I didn’t say it though because I couldn’t help but think I was keeping Shane from having his own life. Paul was right, I had been nothing but trouble for him.

  “When is Warren leaving?”

  “Probably tomorrow, Monday at the latest. Anyway, it’s a non-issue.”

  Would Shane be better off somewhere else? Was Paul right? Would he have a better life away from me? I wanted to shove my head in the sand and not think about it.

  “Let's talk about something else,” I said.

  “Sure, whatever you want.” His hands moved up my body as he kissed my neck. “You feel tense. Let me help you relax.”

  With his arms around me, he brought me to the bed. He slowly undressed me, kissing each part of me as he revealed it. His lips moved so tenderly, I wondered if he was thinking the same thing I was about his leaving.

  His caresses were gentle, less demanding than the other times we had been together. He held me close as he kissed me deeply. I clung to him, wishing he would never let me go.

  Silently, he put the condom on and slipped back into my embrace. With his eyes locked on mine, I felt the pressure of his cock against my entrance. His lips claimed mine as he thrust his cock into me. As he slowly pumped his hips, he continued to kiss me, only stopping to gaze into my eyes.

  This time was different. While sex had never been as wanton or lustful as our first time together, it was never this deliberate. With each thrust, I felt more emotion. Our first time we fucked, other times we had sex, but this time we were making love.

  Shane’s chest rose and fell steadily as he slept. It was still early enough that we didn’t need to go, but I couldn’t relax enough to sleep. All I could do was think about what Shane said earlier and the advice he got from Paul.

  It was too much of a coincidence that Warren was leaving tomorrow, it was like fate was saying it was time for him to leave. Arizona wasn’t where Shane wanted to go, but it would get him closer to his goal of California.

  After such a horrible life with his grandmother and everything that stemmed from that, he needed a new start. And he needed it without me.

  As I lay in the dimly lit hotel room, I saw how Shane went from doing anything to please his grandmother to doing anything for me. I was grateful for it, but it didn’t feel right. He needed to be on his own and do things for himself.

  Paul was right, in less than a few months, I managed to almost land him back in jail a second time. Maybe we just weren’t meant to be.

  Thinking about letting him go made my chest ache. I didn’t want to lose him, but maybe it was for the best. If Shane wasn’t going to think about himself and what was good for him, then I would. I had to end it with him so he could have the life he deserved.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rosalie

  It was after midnight when Shane woke. As he stretched beside me, I watched his muscles ripple. I put my hand on his abs, over his six-pack, then slid my fingers up onto his chest as he yawned.

  This might be the last time I touch you.

  “I was thinking about what we were talking about before,” he said as he sat up. “This year is almost done for you, maybe you could transfer to a school in California. I can leave with Warren and do some odd jobs and save some money so that everything will be set when you come out.”

  “Transfer schools? I… I don’t know.”

  It wasn’t something I thought of, but it didn’t change how I felt. Shane needed to have his own life and to find his own way. He couldn’t do that with me around.

  “Say you’ll come, Rosalie. I don’t want to go out there without you. You’re the other part of my soul. My entire life has brought me to you. I’m not going without you.”

  “No, you should do this for yourself. You should go with Warren. Stop thinking about me. You need to be happy.”

  “I am happy. I’m happy with you, wherever you are. I’m nothing without you, why would I leave when you’re here?”

  “I… can’t go,” I said, trying to make my voice sound strong. “I’m going to finish school here. I can’t go with you, Shane.”

  “What do you mean? What are you saying?”

  “I don’t know what I’m saying.” I turned away from him. I couldn’t look at him anymore or I would change my mind. I didn’t want him to leave, I wanted him to stay, but I was holding him back. “I just… you should go. Do like Paul said and start a new life. Away from me.”

  “But I love you. All I want to do is be with you,” he said as he gently pushed my hair back from my face and touched my cheek as our eyes met.

  Those words were something I dreamed about hearing him tell me, something deep down I knew he felt. But I couldn’t say the words back to him. If I did, he would never leave. I had to say something so he would go and have the wonderful life he deserved.

  “I met someone else,” I said.

  Even as the words came out of my mouth, I wished I could take them back. He didn’t say anything. He stared at me, his eyes piercing through me. I couldn’t meet his stare. If I looked at him long enough, he would know I was lying. I turned away.

  The silence in the room was deafening. Shane got up from the bed and crossed in front of me. His eyes were glassy, cold, and seeing them felt like a knife slicing through my heart.

  He got dressed then tossed my clothes towards me. This was the worst break-up I could ever imagine. Not only did I have to ride home in the car with him, but I had to live with him. At the moment none of that really mattered though. All I could think about was how much he would hate me. I just made the person I loved more than anyone hate me.

  As Shane parked the car in front of our house, he looked at me again. His jaw was set, but his eyes were red as if he had been holding back tears.

  “You cut me to the bone,” he said. “I’m leaving tomorrow. I hope that fucking bastard you met knows how special you are.”

  He slammed the car door shut and went into the house without turning back.

  What was I doing? I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted to stay with him. I wanted us to be forever.

  While I questioned myself, I really didn’t have any doubts. I had convinced myself it was better this way. He was better off without me. I swallowed past the huge lump in my throat, blinking back my tears, and stuffed down my emotions by taking a deep breath.

  “I love you too,” I whispered.

  Shane left early in the morning before I woke up. He left a note for Joanna letting her know what he was doing and that he’d be in touch. He never said goodbye. I never heard from him, not even a call or a text.

  I was broken, wrecked, ruined. His leaving destroyed me, left me empty, but it was all my own doing. Slowly, my heart that always raced whenever Shane was around stopped its frantic rhythm. I didn’t feel anything. I didn’t want to feel anything because if I did, I would have to acknowledge the pain I caused myself when I pushed him away.

  I drowned myself in my classes and finished college ahead of schedule. I spent years looking for any sign of Shane, any mention of his name, but there was none.

  Until one day, four years later, my father spoke the words that made my heart kick back to life again.

  “Shane is coming.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Shane

  Rosalie's words echoed through my head all evening. I couldn't escape them.

  You should go.

  I met someone else.

  Over and over I heard her tell me we were done, that she was seeing someone else. Despite her words and how much they stung, I didn't believe her. I refused to believe we were done. What we had was special, and I knew she felt that way too. I didn't know why she was ending things so quickly, but she had to have her reasons and if she wanted to end things with me, I wasn’t going to get in her way. I had to leave.

  I didn't have any place to go, but I couldn't stay in that house with her in the next room. I couldn’t stay knowing I couldn’t touch her when she was so close. Le
aving her was the hardest thing I ever had to do, but I didn't have a choice.

  I packed my things, wrote a note, and left the house. The pain of losing Rosalie was the worst feeling I felt since my grandmother passed away. I felt so lost then, I thought nothing could feel as bad as that, but every time Rosalie’s words screamed through my head, they ripped my heart apart even more.

  You should go.

  I met someone else.

  Without thinking, I walked about a mile to the bus stop and figured I would get on the next bus. It didn’t matter where it was going, I just needed to get as far away as possible.

  The bus hissed as it stopped. It wasn’t the usual public transportation I was used to taking, but the door opened like he was waiting for passengers so I climbed up the steps.

  “How much?” I asked.

  The driver had a full head of curly silver hair and wore large, gold-rimmed glasses. He gave me a quick once over, then met my gaze.

  “I know that look, young man. You’re goin’ to the end of the line, aren’t you?” His voice was gravelly, but kind. “Just take a seat. I can tell you need any help you can get.”

  My instinct was to make a snide comment about how he didn’t know anything about me, but I could use a friend. Even if it was just for the ride.

  “Where we headed?” I asked, sliding into the seat behind him. The bus was half full, but it was only 6am. I was lucky to get a bus so early.

  “Philadelphia. This is one of the few buses that goes there from here,” he said as he tapped the dashboard with some pride in his voice. “We have a few more stops before we cruise into the city.” He checked the oncoming traffic before turning the bus back onto the road.

  I settled back into my seat with thoughts of my grandmother and living in Philadelphia with her. I used to think my grandmother was the only person who truly loved and cared about me, the only person who ever would. But that was before Rosalie.

  Once the bus reached cruising speed, the driver glanced at me in his rearview mirror.

  “You’re lookin’ like you need to get away. Home troubles? Nah… it’s because of a girl, isn’t it?” He looked up into his rearview mirror and nodded as if he was answering his own question. “I’m pretty sure I had that same look when I left home almost fifty years ago. Even if I told you, you wouldn’t believe the things I was runnin’ from. Things were so crazy that I had to do the unthinkable. I had to leave my girl.” He shook his head momentarily lost in the past. “I never regretted it though. Leaving was the best decision I ever made. Might be for you too.”

  I didn’t answer the driver. I didn’t want to talk. I was too busy trying to forget, and everything was still too fresh. I looked up and noticed the driver looking back at me through the mirror while he nodded his head again.

  “You’ve had a shit life so far, but it got better because of her, didn’t it?” he asked. “I get it. I wouldn’t want to talk either. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure I didn’t talk when I was in your shoes a long time ago.” His brow wrinkled, and his full cheeks drooped with sadness as he remembered the past. “Get some rest, kid. I have a feeling you have a long day ahead of you.”

  When I woke up, the bus was pulling into the main terminal in Philadelphia. I waited for everyone to get off the bus before I got up from my seat. Thinking about the driver’s kindness, I placed my hand on his shoulder.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Glad I could help,” he said as he patted my hand. “Best of luck in your journey.”

  As I stepped off the bus, I turned around to face the driver. Something he said had been nagging at me, and I needed to know the answer.

  “You said you left your girl, and you don’t regret it. Did you ever see her again?”

  He smiled and tapped on the dashboard like he had earlier, but this time I noticed a small photograph of him with a woman smiling at the camera.

  “When two people are meant to be together, nothing will keep them apart. Not even themselves.”

  The sun casted an orangey glow over the gray skyline. I wasn't sure where I was going, but I soon realized my feet were taking me to the old neighborhood I once lived in with my grandmother.

  The neighborhood looked worse than I remembered. The old houses were falling apart, many of them were shuttered up, and a lot of the sidewalks had been reduced to rubble. The narrow alleyways that separated the homes looked darker, almost menacing. They were a long ways away from when I used to hide in them as a child.

  Even though Abuela’s street looked deserted, I started to hear some life as people began their day. A dog sitting in front of a window barked as I walked past, and its owner quickly closed the blinds. A mother yelled for her kid to hurry up so they wouldn’t be late.

  The old house was still the same red, painted-over brick. The paint was peeling, and the windows were dirty from years of neglect. I walked up the grey concrete steps and thought about ringing the bell, but stopped myself. What if someone is living there? I racked my brain trying to remember if I heard anything about the house being sold after Abuela died.

  As I leaned over the handrail to look into a window, a young woman came out from the house next door.

  “Ain’t no one home,” she said as she shook her door to get it to lock. “Hasn’t been anyone in years. At least not that I remember.”

  She had long bright red hair and beautiful, almond-shaped eyes. She looked to be in her late teens but was wearing slacks and a blouse that belonged to a middle-aged woman.

  “My grandmother used to live here,” I said. “I wasn’t sure if they sold it or not.”

  “Oh, I remember an old lady. Heard a lot of stories about the goings-on in that house, but I was a little girl and she was always very nice to me. I don’t think anyone’s been here since she died.” The slow dawn of realization covered her face. “I’m sorry for your loss.” She looked at her watch, and then turned towards an old silver Honda. “I’d stick around and chat, but I can’t be late for work.” She tilted her head and squinted her eyes at me. “Have we met before?”

  I remembered a girl who lived next door, about five years younger than me. We weren’t friends, it was hard to have friends when you were doing the things I needed to do for my family. But I remembered her playing hopscotch on the sidewalk, or jumping rope.

  “No, I don’t think so,” I said, not wanting to talk about the past.

  “Alright well, my mamma is home all day and she loves talkin’ if you have any questions about your grandma’s place. There’s been a few people by recently, and my mamma always knows everything that’s goin’ on.”

  “Thanks,” I said as I forced a smile.

  She smiled back and gave a quick wave as she got into her car and sped away.

  While I was curious who had been by, I still didn’t want to talk to anyone. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself after everything that happened with my heart being ripped out and thrown against the wall by Rosalie, and then the long ride to Philadelphia. I sat down on the stoop and leaned against the cool brick handrail as tiredness rushed over me. No one would mind if I rested there for a couple minutes. No one would even notice.

  “Wake up.”

  The tip of a shoe kicked the rubber sole of my sneaker. I slowly opened my eyes, confused about where I was for a moment. A man was standing over me in a dark gray suit, a leather briefcase in his hand. What was left of his hair was slicked back, as if he had just gotten out of the shower.

  “What time is it?” I asked as I yawned and stood up.

  The man lifted his left arm to check the time on his fancy silver watch. Behind him, idling at the curb, was a sleek white BMW. He’s definitely not from around here.

  “It's 8:30,” he said. His brow furrowed before he looked around. “This is private property, please move on.”

  He must think I’m a bum, but at least he’s not a dick about it. I snorted and shook my head before letting out a long sigh.

  “I’m just having a bad day,” I
said. “I’m not causing any trouble. I used to live here with my grandmother. I guess you could say I stopped by to visit.”

  "Your grandmother?" the man asked as he put his briefcase down on the top step and pulled a folder out. He rifled through some pages. “Angela Ventana?”

  I nodded, taken aback. How did he know?

  He flipped through some more pages, then eyed me up and down with a slow nod of acceptance before asking his next question. “What's your name?”

  My mind spun as I tried to piece together what was going on. This man knew my grandmother, and it wasn’t a stretch for me to assume my name was in those papers he kept looking through.

  My instinct was to run. Nothing good ever came from someone knowing my name. I shook my head to try to clear it so I could think straight, then decided to just answer him.

  “Shane Ventana. What’s going on? How do you know my grandmother?”

  “She hired me a long time ago,” he said. “I helped her with her will before she passed away. Everything went to your father when she died, but I don't think he ever knew that. From what I’ve been hearing, that was probably for the best.”

  I nodded. He didn’t have to go into specifics for me to imagine the kind of shit my father had been getting himself into.

  “We hired investigators to try to find him, but we didn't have any luck.” He looked at me, and I could tell that he was holding something back.

  “I don’t know where he is, but if you came here to find him, you're wasting your time. He didn’t want anything to do with this place after Abuela died.”

  “I didn’t come here to find your father. Actually, Shane, I came here to find you.

  “It’s not the norm. Your grandmother insisted our firm keep tabs on you even after her death, but you disappeared after your last jail release,” he said. “She was a great person, and she helped a lot of people, even me. I grew up on this street, years before you and your dad came back to town. She saw something in me that no one else had. If it hadn’t been for your grandmother’s faith in me, I would’ve never become a lawyer.” He smiled wistfully as he looked up at the building, then back at me. “I know she did a lot of bad things, and your life could have been better, but she only did these things to support her family.”