Truly

by Carmel Rhodes

  Captain’s Log.

  June 2019

  New Orleans.

  I’m in love with her, but she’s still in love with him.

  Which means I’m fucked.

  If she finds out what I did, she’ll never see me as anything more than the monster from the treehouse. She’ll hate me before she realizes that I’m the one she’s supposed to be with. I can’t imagine going back to a life without her. It sounds weird, considering I don’t know much about her, but when I saw her that day in her dad’s office...I can’t explain it, but Truly was made for me. I just hope one day she realizes that too.

  Tedesco Out.

  Captain’s Log.

  June 2019.

  New Orleans.

  Truly tastes better than beignets.

  Tedesco out.

  I glance at Noah, who’s watching me intently. “You wrote this?”

  His head bobs up and down slowly. “I’m better on the court than I am with a pen.” He grabs the book and flips forward a few pages before handing it back to me.

  Captain’s Log.

  July 2019

  Santa Monica.

  I should have told her tonight. We talked about our scars. She told me about her mom. I told her about Dick. She saw first-hand what he’s like...what he turns me into when he’s like that, and she stayed. I’m quickly learning it isn’t that easy to scare her away. She’s made of tough stuff. Maybe she can handle the truth? Maybe she won’t run.

  I’m going to tell her.

  I have to. I just don’t want to ruin her trip.

  Tedesco out.

  “Why didn’t you tell me when we got back?” I ask, looking up from the page.

  Noah scrubs a palm down his face. “I was afraid. I finally had everything I wanted. Which sounds crazy considering the house I was raised in and the credit card in my wallet.” He shakes his head. “But I am alone in this world, Little One. You were all I had. It’s not an excuse. I should have been honest. I should have trusted you with all of my scars.” He flips a few more pages and hands me back the notebook.

  Captain’s Log.

  Jameson

  August 2019

  Camp has been hell. The days start with early morning conditioning sessions, then in the afternoon, we have practice, then weight training in the evenings. I’m one of four freshmen on the team, which basically means I spend my days being hazed by the upperclassmen. Everyone’s pretty cool though, except they keep asking me about the girl on my Instagram. Being reminded of her, of what I lost, every fucking day feels like a stab in the gut. I lost my shit tonight. I broke down in front of Eddie, the power forward. Ugly fucking tears. Before Tru, I would have been ashamed of those emotions, but she taught me to embrace them.

  Tedesco out.

  “Is this why you scrubbed me from your IG?” I ask.

  “Yes, keep reading.”

  Captain’s Log,

  Jameson

  September 2019.

  I saw her today. Her books were clutched against her chest. She had her headphones in and her head down. I wanted to run to her. I wanted to run to her, but Eddie stopped me. He asked me a question that I’ll never forget. He asked me what’s different.

  I twisted out of his hold because my girl was getting away, but he grabbed me again and asked the question again. “What’s different?”

  “What do you mean?” I grunted. Truly disappeared inside the science building.

  “You said she deserves better. So, what have you done to be better?”

  Nothing, Log. I’d done nothing to be better for the girl who deserves the world. Truly once told me that if I wanted to be with her, then I had to earn her, so that’s what the fuck I’m going to do.

  Tedesco Out.

  Captain’s Log.

  Jameson

  October 2019.

  My therapist thinks I should call Devin. She thinks that I can’t blame him for what happened to me, any more than he can blame me for the way Dad made him feel. I didn’t want to. I put it off for weeks, then fucking Eddie reminded me that I needed to be better for her. So, I fucking called him.

  It was as awkward as you’d expect. Nothing got resolved, but it didn’t end in yelling or one of us threatening to kill each other, so I guess that’s a start.

  Tedesco out.

  Captain’s Log

  Jameson

  November 2019.

  We won our first game. Log, I haven’t felt a high like this since before I lost Tru. I know it’s wrong, I know I still have a lot of work to do, but fuck it. I want my girl back.

  Tedesco out.

  I flip a few more pages, but that’s it. I turn to Noah. “I am a work in progress, Truly, but I am in progress. I know I haven’t given you much of a reason to forgive me, but you told me I needed to decide if I was the boy from the treehouse or the man you fell in love with on the road.” He shifts up onto his knees, cupping my face between his palms. “You told me you couldn’t keep bending yourself to make me comfortable, and I realized I don’t want to be the kind of man who makes you bend. I don’t want to change the person you are, Truly. I only want to change your last name.”

  My heart thuds in my chest as I lunge forward, attacking Noah’s mouth with mine. “I love you,” I pant. “I love you so fucking much.”

  He catches me around the waist. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

  I smile up at him, tears clouding my vision. Noah was never the prince in my story. Ours was never a fairytale, but fairytales are boring. Maybe our once upon a time was dark and dirty and raw, but it was ours. It led us here, and I can honestly say, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

  “I’m yours.”

  Ten years later.

  “Watch your step,” Noah says, leading me through a door. I have no clue where we are, or why we’re here, only that it has something to do with birthday present number twenty-five. This year’s birthday festivities started yesterday, when Noah surprised me with a last-minute trip to Newton, present number one.

  “Do you think Daddy is okay with Parker?” I ask, stumbling along after my husband.

  “Your dad, the doctor?” Noah snorts. “Even if he does break our son, I’m pretty sure he knows how to fix him.”

  I roll my eyes under the blindfold that I’ve been wearing since we left the paint your own pottery place. “Whatever, asshole. Can I take this off now?”

  “Almost.” I hear a door sliding open, then feel Noah move behind me. His mouth is hot on my ear as he whispers, “Welcome to present number twenty-six.”

  He slips off the blindfold at the same time the crowd of familiar faces in front of me yells, “Surprise!”

  Becca and Tracy run up to me and wrap their arms around me. “Oh my God, Noah got you to leave the city?” I say blinking back tears. Becca went to New York and never looked back. She got a job at a firm right out of law school and fell in love with her married boss. It caused a bit of a scandal. She even came down to Miami to stay with us for a month while things blew over.

  “As if I had a choice,” she grunts playfully. “Noah doesn’t understand the word no.”

  “Tell me about it.” I giggle, wading through a sea of family and friends. Noah thought of everyone. Nana, Aunt Monica, even Kai is here with her family.

  Noah leads me through the backyard, but it isn’t until I spot the old treehouse in the corner that I realize where we are. I turn back to him. “How did you make this happen?” Noah’s parents sold this house just before we graduated Jameson. We haven’t been back here in years. I don’t know what kind of money Noah had to throw at the current owners to get them to agree to this party, but I’m so glad he did.

  “Mommy!” Parker squeals. Our three-year-old waddles over to us, with my Dad hot on his heels. “Are you surprised?”

  “I’m very surprised. Did you help Daddy do all this?”

  Parker nods his head proudly as Noah squats down and gives him a high five. “Couldn’t have done it without you, buddy.” Noah is a nat
ural at this dad thing, which shouldn’t really be surprising because he’s good at everything, but seeing him as a father does something to my insides. I’d have a hundred of his babies.

  “Can we go swimming now?” Parker asks.

  Noah stares up at Daddy. “His bag is in the house.”

  “Come on, Buddy. Pap-Pap will take you to get changed.” My dad picks up Parker and disappears inside. I wander around the party for a bit, happy to be home with our friends and family for the time being.

  I love our life in Miami, but I miss having this community. Noah and I have talked about buying a house here, but so far, talk is all it’s been.

  “Happy Birthday, Tru,” a deep voice calls from behind me. I turn in my chair and smile brightly as Devin walks towards me. He’s got a girl with him. She looks to be about our age, with brown hair and a big smile.

  “Hey.” I stand and wrap him in a hug. “I was wondering if we’d see you.” It’s been a rocky road getting Devin and Noah to make peace. At one point, I’d given up even trying. After years of therapy and grudges and hurt feelings, it seemed like they would never have a relationship. And then I had Parker, and something clicked into place for Noah.

  “And miss the chance to see you and Park? Never.” He grins down at me.

  “Who’s your friend?” I ask. Devin and I will always have a special bond, and even though we didn’t work as a couple, I’ll always want the best for him.

  “Oh, Tru, this is Laura. Laura, Truly.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I tell her genuinely. It’s time for Devin to settle down, and if he likes this girl enough to bring her here, then she must be special to him.

  “Good to see you, big brother.” An arm wraps around my neck, and Noah pulls my back to his front. We’ve been together for ten years, married for five of them, and we have a child together. I keep telling him there’s no getting rid of me, but he’s still as possessive as he’s ever been.

  Devin and Noah slap hands. “How long are you guys in town for? I’d love it if the four of us could have dinner or something one night.” Devin gives Noah a look, some unspoken conversation happening between them. It’s weird; they spent the first ten years of their lives inseparable, and the next fifteen feuding, but they have an undeniable brotherhood that even time and hate couldn’t erase.

  “For sure.” Noah nods.

  The party wears on into the evening, the adulty adults leave, and it feels like old times again. “Dude,” Ethan says, hitting Noah on the shoulder. “You guys got robbed this year. The Celtics? Really?”

  Noah tips a beer up to his lips. “I know dude. We just couldn’t stay healthy long enough to get into the playoffs, but we got it next year for sure.”

  Tracy lets out a loud snore. “Blah blah, sports talk blah. We are all together and childless for the first time since Becca married her lawyer daddy. Let’s have fun.” Tracy stands and peels off her shirt. “Let’s go skinny dipping.”

  Ethan is up next. “I’m down.” One by one, everyone stands and starts peeling off layers of clothes and runs full speed towards the pool.

  Noah tags me around the waist. “What? I’ve got my bra and panties on.” I pout.

  He shakes his head and holds up a bottle of champagne. “First, present number twenty-seven. Let’s drink this whole bottle and spend the rest of the night working on baby number two.”

  I stare at the bottle, biting down on my bottom lip. I didn’t want to tell him this way, but here goes nothing. “As much as I’d love to have drunken sex with you in your childhood home, we can’t.”

  He cocks a brow. “Why can’t we?”

  I put his big palm on my still flat stomach. “Because baby number two is already here.”

  Noah’s eyes light up in wonder. “What? When did you find out? How didn’t I know?”

  “I found out right before we left Miami. I wanted to tell you in a cute way, maybe put it on a t-shirt or something, but you’re not an easy man to surprise.”

  He sets the bottle down. “Well, since present twenty-seven is a bust, how about we skip to twenty-eight.”

  I grin. It’s my last present of the day, and that usually includes an orgasm. I’m not sure how long we have this place for, but I’m down for a treehouse quickie.

  As if reading my mind, Noah nods towards the old treehouse, and we race over to it. It smells exactly the same as it used to. I run my fingers over the now empty shelves and let the memories of the time we spent reading and making love here wash over me. “I can’t believe your parents sold this place.” I sigh, sitting cross legged on the floor.

  Noah drops down next to me. “I have always had a love-hate relationship with this house,” he says. “Dick was an abusive piece of shit when I was a kid, but it’s where I grew up. It’s where I found you. We’ve been lucky with my career so far, but my contract is up next season, and who knows where we’ll end up.”

  “We’ll deal. We always do,” I tell him.

  “I just want Parker and this little bean to have a constant, so don’t be mad, okay?

  “Okay.” I nod slowly watching as he reaches into his pocket.

  He pulls out an unfamiliar set of keys. “I know we talked about getting a house here to be closer to your family and Devin, and the people who owed this place were looking to sell quickly, so I bought it.” He drops the keys into my hands. “Happy Birthday.”

  I blink at the metal glinting in my hands. “But I thought I was getting an orgasm.”

  Noah smirks at me. “I tell you I bought you a house, and all you can think about is sex?”

  “You bought us a house in Newton!” I grin, lifting up to straddle him.

  “That’s more like it.” He grabs a handful of my ass. “I love you more than I ever thought possible. I know you think I go too far with your birthdays, but you deserve the world, and I won’t stop until I give it to you.”

  The End

  Preview of Lithium Waves

  Life was suffering; at least that’s what the Buddhists believed. It was a philosophy James Michele Manning understood all too well. Jamie spent the first half of her life craving the conditional love of her parents, and the second half rebelling against them.

  Nothing she did was good enough, including graduating from the University of Southern California with honors. It didn’t matter if she was at the top of her class because, as her father put it, broadcast journalism was a dying art. “In fifty years when all the baby boomers are gone,” he’d say, “no one will look to the television for the news. The internet is the wave of the future.” The internet, where he made his millions.

  Well, her father could go fuck himself. Her mother too. She gave up seeking their validation last fall when they abandoned her when she needed them most. Jamie was on a downward spiral. She indulged in the suffering of life, in drinking, in partying, and in casual sex. She relished the numbness alcohol provided, but recently, that life left her unfulfilled.

  Party girl Jamie died months ago. Most days, she was happy that girl was gone, but there were days, like today, when she missed it. Then, as fate would have it, Lo called. Lorena Davis was her party friend. They met at a bar the year before and hit it off instantly. She had a front row seat for Jamie’s, ‘Britney circa 2007’, meltdown, but she never judged. So, when Lo asked her to come to the edge of Seattle to see some local band perform, Jamie agreed.

  That’s how she found herself falling down The Rabbit Hole—literally.

  The Rabbit Hole was a dive bar on the outskirts of town. Its claim to fame was a weekly skee-ball tournament, eight-dollar fish bowls, and live music.

  Jamie sat at the long oak bar, nursing a cold beer. The only thing on her mind was getting shit-faced, but as usual, Lo was late.

  Checking her watch, Jamie sighed, “Fuck it.” She wanted to wait for her friend before she started taking shots, but Lo was twenty minutes late and she was bored. Jamie being bored in a bar was a Molotov cocktail of trouble.

  She signaled for the bartender; a t
all, curvy woman with bright green streaks in her brown hair. Her breasts spilled out of her black tank, and the itty-bitty shorts she wore made her ass look spectacular. Jamie made a mental note to ask her trainer about squats the next time they met.

  “Hey,” the punk rock Victoria Secret Model greeted, sashaying her way over.

  “Is this band any good?” Jamie asked, shamelessly using her arms to press her boobs together. The move, coupled with the low-cut, black bodysuit that was painted on her body, made her small breasts look fuller.

  The woman’s brown eyes lit up as she leaned over the bar, her tits on full display, “Lithium Springs?”

  Jamie nodded to her chest. Eyes up James, she scolded herself. Fuck if she knew the name of the band, fuck if she cared. She was only there for the drinks.

  “They’re amazing.”

  “There aren’t very many people here,” Jamie said, glancing over her shoulder at the fourteen or so people milling about.

  The hot bartender opened her mouth to speak, only no words came out. Instead, her face turned a bright shade of pink, and her eyes darted over Jamie’s left shoulder. “Hey Ry,” she whispered in a breathy voice.

  A long, tattooed arm brushed up against Jamie’s. Honey colored eyes peered down at her. The energy between Jamie and the owner of the arm was electric. The hair on the back of her neck prickled when the man, Ry, settled into the space between her and the stool to her left.

  He was close, too close, considering they were the only two people sitting at the bar. Too close, considering it had been a month since she’d gotten laid. Too close, considering she was just checking out the woman behind the bar.

  Tilting her head, Jamie snuck a better look at the man who smelled like sunshine and sex—her favorite combination. He was gorgeous, tall and lean with wavy, blond hair that fell just above his shoulders. His eyes were hazel, his skin sun-kissed, and most importantly, he was covered in tattoos.