The Way Back

by Melissa Toppen

  Somehow mixing my goodbye to Kyle with my relationship with Zayne makes the words so much harder to say, knowing that I have lost them both.

  “He saved me. He showed me it was okay to be not okay. He taught me how to laugh again. I mean really laugh. And he showed me the disservice I was doing to your memory by squandering my chance at a life, when yours was taken away far too soon. He didn't make me love you any less or in any way lighten the weight of your loss. But he taught me how to live through the grief. And even though he's gone now too, I still value what he taught me. He's the reason I'm here today. I should have said goodbye to you five years ago, but I... I wasn't ready to let you go. I'm still not ready to let you go. But I know that it's what I have to do. I know that it's what you would want me to do. I got your necklace,” I say, toying with the small chain around my neck. “Your mom found it when she was cleaning out your room. I can't tell you what it meant to me, what it means to me. But it no longer seems fitting. It's no longer me being stuck here and you going off to start your life, but rather the opposite. I feel like, in a way, the necklace should stay with you.” With shaky fingers, I unclasp the chain, holding it in the palm of my hand.

  “That way you always know that no matter where I go or what happens, I will always be with you. I will carry you with me forever and no matter how much time passes, a piece of my heart will belong to you. I will never give it away. Even if I give my heart to another, that small piece will remain with me, always reserved for you.” I drop the chain into the small gap where his headstone meets the earth.

  Pushing the dirt down over top of it, I make sure it's deep enough that it won't be moved.

  “I love you, Kyle Parker. I will always love you.” I lean forward, pressing my forehead to the cool stone.

  I remain that way for a very long time. Crying tears that needed to be cried, saying words that needed to be said. By the time I stand to leave, the sun has begun to set, causing shadows to dance around me off the trees.

  I lean forward and kiss the top of the stone. “Goodbye, Kyle,” I whisper, before turning and walking away.

  While I know that I will still feel the pain of his loss every single day of my life, at least now I feel like I can finally start to truly heal. For as much as Zayne gave me in the way of teaching me how to live again, only Kyle had the power to set me free.

  AFTER SENDING MY MOM into a state of shock with my surprise visit, I quickly settled into the routine of being back home again. I forgot how easy things flow with my family.

  Everyday it's the same routine. Sleep until I get up. Eat a ridiculously large breakfast compliments of my mom. Go for a walk. Catch lunch with Ian. Browse the streets of the Springs where I mostly window shop, but sometimes see an article of clothing or a bag I simply cannot live without. Do a little writing at the park. Go back home. Check in with my agent or do some other work related things. Have dinner with mom, Rob, and sometimes Ian. Call Em and leave unnecessarily long messages about my day. Check in with Carver who usually answers my calls and kills about thirty minutes of my evening. And then the day usually ends with me curled up on the couch with Mom, watching re-runs of I Love Lucy until she finally calls it a night.

  This has been how I have spent the last ten days. My mind knows that I need to get back to my life and stop hiding out at my parents’ house, but my heart isn’t ready to accept that.

  Then again, will I ever be ready?

  Will I ever be ready to return to a city where I know Zayne is just minutes away? Where a quick drive across town would have me in the same building, even the same room as him. This is what keeps me awake at night. The knowing what I must do but not having the strength to do it.

  My mom has questioned me a few times but has done little in the way of pushing me. Honestly, I think she likes having me home and is in no rush for me to leave. A part of me really does wish I could stay here forever. But then I think of Carver and Em, when she finally gets home, and I can't bear the thought of not being with them.

  I roll toward my nightstand and peer at the alarm clock on top. Just after one in the morning. While I feel like being here has helped me in a lot of ways, it hasn't helped with my insomnia. It's strange really. Up until the day that Zayne ended things, I had no trouble sleeping. Now, I'm lucky if I can manage a couple of hours a night.

  It's like my brain is running a marathon and for whatever reason, can't shut down. I've tried warm milk, yoga, and meditation, even counting sheep, as ridiculous as that sounds. Nothing works. Nothing calms my thoughts. Nothing can stop my mind from rehashing every memory I have made over the summer. My accomplishments, my failures, my friends, but more than anything, Zayne.

  How it felt to be in his arms. How my heart would beat off rhythm when he would hit me with a goofy lopsided grin. The way my skin would prickle at the slightest touch. Or how one look would melt me into a puddle on the floor. Just the thought of never feeling that way again is crippling.

  Flipping to my back, I let out a long exhale. “Just sleep already,” I say aloud, staring up at the dark ceiling that is still covered with little glow in the dark stars that I hung up there when I was maybe thirteen or fourteen.

  Deciding that sleep is not going to come anytime soon and needing a distraction, I decide to head down to the kitchen for a snack. Pushing myself off the bed, my legs wobble under my weight, clearly feeling the effects of my lack of sleep.

  I tiptoe out of my room and make my way down the stairs. Each step creaks as I descend, but I continue to try to be as quiet as possible. Just when I reach the bottom, I hear my phone start ringing upstairs. Having not turned the ringer down, the song “Forget Me Too” by Machine Gun Kelly starts blaring through the silence.

  Immediately, my heart kicks into overdrive. That's Zayne's ringtone. I assigned it to him a couple days ago for no other reason than it kinda seemed fitting.

  Not sure what else to do, I climb the stairs two at a time and scramble into my room right as the ringer stops and my phone signals a missed call. Holding the now silent phone in my hand, I don't know if I want to cry or throw the thing against the nearest wall and watch it shatter into pieces.

  The mixture between sadness and anger is a lethal combination and leaves me unable to sort out how I feel. On one hand, I’m devastated and miss Zayne so much some days it seems impossible to even get out of bed. Others, when the anger really sets in, I want to be reckless and lash out by doing something that would make him feel even an ounce of the pain that I feel at the present moment.

  My heart leaps into my throat when my phone lights up and vibrates in my hand minutes later, signaling a voicemail. With shaky fingers, I press the listen button and put the phone to my ear. I hold my breath, waiting to hear his voice on the other end.

  Instead, I hear multiple voices. Some talking. Some laughing. Most of them sound like women but I can pick out a few men's voices in the crowd as well. I put my finger to my other ear to try to make out what people are saying but everything is so jumbled together.

  Then I hear Zayne's name and it's without a doubt, a female voice. “Oh, come on.” Her voice is high and her words are so much clearer than all the other noise going on around them, which tells me that she's extremely close to him.

  The anger bubbles in my throat and for a moment I almost follow through with my original plan of throwing my phone against the wall, but for whatever reason, I can't stop listening.

  I hear Zayne say something, I would recognize his voice anywhere. But I can't make out his words at first. I hear rustling and the clear indication that he pulled his phone out of his pocket. The voices around him become clearer and I know almost immediately that he must be in some kind of bar or club. But it must be at least four in the morning there. What bar stays open that late?

  Before I have time to think it over, I hear Zayne come on the line.

  “Grace. Grace, are you there?” he asks, clearly intoxicated and obviously thinking that I called him.

  He falls silent for
a moment and I hear him say something to someone but it's muffled like he's covering the phone. I hold my breath waiting. Seconds tick by but it feels like hours. And then finally I hear him again.

  “Grace, I don't know if you're there but if you are, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” His words are slurred and his voice sounds uncharacteristically thick with emotion. All the background noise is gone, which makes me think he must have stepped outside or something.

  I hear a lighter and then the telltale sign of a cigarette inhale and exhale. Since when does Zayne smoke? I guess I don't know him as well as I thought I did.

  “Grace.” His voice breaks and I can't stop the tears that well behind my eyes, any more than I can stop them when they overflow onto my cheeks.

  “I love you.” The words are jumbled and I can't even be certain that he said what I think he just said. No, certainly not. But then he says it again. “I love you, Grace. Please say something.” He’s clearly so drunk he has no idea that he's leaving a voicemail.

  “Fuck.” He sighs and then the line goes dead.

  I'm not sure how long I stand there, holding my phone in my hand, staring at the screen as if somehow I can will him to call again.

  Not being able to resist, I call my voicemail again, this time listening more closely. At one point I hear him address someone as Ashley. But no, it couldn't be that Ashley, could it? Certainly he's not so heartless that he would be out with the woman he kind of cheated on me with. Then again, maybe he could be.

  This time when the woman addresses him, I listen more closely, trying to see if I recognize her voice. I have only met Ashley once but every detail of her is forever burned into my memory. Especially the sight of her straddled across Zayne's lap.

  Sure enough, when the voice comes around this time, I’m almost positive that it's her, to the point that I would just about bet my life on it. I strain my ear, trying to pick up on anything else that's going on, but everything is too distorted and muffled to make out.

  I listen to the entire message. Only this time when he says he loves me, I don't let myself believe it. He's drunk. He's out in the middle of the night with a woman he slept with while we were seeing each other. Clearly, only one of us is having an issue moving on and it's obviously not him.

  Tossing my phone on the bed, I abandon my original plan of grabbing a snack. My appetite checked out about ten minutes ago when I realized the man that I left the city to escape is getting along just fine without me.

  Feeling vengeful and angry, I pick my phone back up and type out a quick text.

  For the record, you may want to be more careful about pocket dialing people. Tell Ashley I say hello.

  I hit send before I have a chance to talk myself out of it but regret it almost immediately. It feels so immature, so juvenile, and yet, I don't know how else to deal with all the emotions I’m feeling. On one hand, I want to be the bigger person and move on. On the other hand, it's impossible to do when I don't want to move on.

  I want him. I want him to want me. I want him to call me for real and not be some random drunk pocket call. I want him to care enough to make sure that I’m okay. Hell, I just want him to care.

  I don't expect a response, so I am not surprised when I don't get one. I consider sending him another but decide against it. I can only take so much humiliation per night and right now, I think I have about reached my limit.

  I consider texting Alec and telling him he was right and apologizing for everything, but even that is too much for me right now. I just want to escape this entire situation. I want to forget about Zayne and Alec and all the drama that is sure to be waiting for me when I decide to go back to New York.

  I need to forget. I need a distraction. I need a rush. I click back on my phone and call the one person I know will be up and willing to help me.

  Ian.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “YOU SURE ABOUT THIS, Gracie?” Ian asks from his spot beside me.

  “No turning back now.” I look over the edge of the cliff before looking back at him. “I made this jump once before and something unthinkable happened. I need to make it again. I need to prove to myself that I can do it and nothing bad will happen this time.” I turn back to the perfect view of the sun rising over the murky water.

  “You know I’m down, baby girl. But are you really sure about this?” he asks from behind me.

  “I get this enough from, Alec. Can you just be the carefree, fuck it, big brother that I need right now? I have lived through more shit than most people twice my age and I'm still here. I'm still standing. But it means nothing if I can't learn to live with the past and not be afraid of everything around me. Now would you stop making me second guess myself and just fucking jump already?”

  A wide smile breaks across his face as he pushes his too long blonde hair out of his eyes. “I never thought I would see the day when precious, innocent Gracie would drop the F bomb so casually.” He laughs. “I gotta say, I like it.”

  I immediately burst out in laughter, but it catches in my throat when Ian gives me a wink and in two large steps, flings himself off the top of the cliff. My stomach twists into a tight knot when I hear his body hit the water but a scream of delight reassures me that he made it down okay.

  Taking a few steps back, I take several deep breaths, trying to calm the rage of nerves inside of me. Ian made it look easy, but then again, Ian has probably done this several times before.

  I take a moment to look around. The last time I saw Kyle alive was in this very spot. If I close my eyes, I can still see him running toward me, that boyish grin lighting up his entire face as he laughs and tosses me over his shoulder.

  Opening my eyes, I swear I can see the moment we fly off the cliff, me flailing wildly in his arms. And then we're gone. I blink rapidly, realizing very quickly that this is much harder than I had originally thought it would be.

  I hear Ian shouting from below, but he's too far down for me to make out his words. I close my eyes again and try to focus. I see Kyle, smiling and full of charm. Emma, full of spirit and a heart like no other. My mom, my dad, my brothers. Carver and his unbelievable ability to comfort me. And then I see Zayne. The second man to hold my heart. The first one to intentionally break it.

  Without another thought, my feet move beneath me as I run full force toward the edge. I run until there is no ground left to run against and I feel my body get lost in the wind. It whips around me, pulling the air from my lungs and pushing my stomach into my chest.

  I hit the water within seconds, my body seizing under the cold prickles that stab my limbs. The water is much cooler than I had expected, and when I reach the surface, gasping for air, my entire body is shivering.

  Ian appears feet in front of me, a look on his face that I don't quite understand. Pride maybe? Either way, I can tell that he’s just as surprised as I am that I actually went through it. And even though I’m freezing cold and my body is wound tight with nerves, I feel a sense of freedom that I hadn't realized I needed.

  I did it. I returned to where it all began. Where my life became not mine anymore. And today... Today, I took my life back.

  Grace, please call me. We need to talk. Please.

  I DELETE ONE OF MANY text messages that I have received from Zayne over the last couple of days and toss my phone back into the center console of my car. The messages started the morning I went to The Gulch with Ian three days ago and have not stopped since.

  It's been a combination of I miss you, I can't live without you, I made a horrible mistake, please call me, so on and so forth. All of which I have successfully ignored, even though doing so has been hell. I want so badly to call him, text him back, anything. But if going home and finding the closure I needed taught me anything, it's that I need to fight for what I deserve. And that includes fighting for a love that means as much to the other person as it does to me. Not for a man who hurts me over and over again.

  As much as I’m not ready to leave Zayne behind, I really don't see another op
tion. He has proven to me time and time again that he's not the man I need. No matter how much I love him, I know that I need more. I just wish he were capable of giving me that.

  “You ready?” Ian asks, breaking into my thoughts as he slides into the passenger seat of my car. He hands me my favorite road snacks, a diet soda, and Combos, before giving me a cheesy smile.

  “I still can't believe you're coming all the way to New York with me.”

  “Are you kidding? I love the city, not to mention I need to pay our oldest brother a nice little visit.” He lounges back in his seat, sliding his sunglasses into place.

  “You will do no such thing.” I turn to glare at him once my seat belt is snapped into place. “Enough damage has been done. I need to make things right with Alec, not piss him off more.”