Loved You Once

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Loved You Once Page 5

by Claudia Burgoa


  “That’s true. Your to-do list is getting longer, and our benefactors’ list has decreased. I told you we should try a charity event.”

  She’s always full of great ideas, but they require an initial investment I can’t afford. Let’s just hope this inheritance is real. This is exactly why I’m eating my pride and setting up my mind into survival mode. Entering the Aldridges’ world is like willingly diving into the Amazon river. There’s no way to avoid the piranhas, black caimans, or anacondas. There’s little hope to make it out alive.

  Should I tell Victoria to send a rescue team if I’m not home by tomorrow?

  Hopefully, that’s not the case. Vance, one of the youngest brothers, is going to be there. He and I are on good terms. If someone can take down his siblings, it’d be him. He’s a former army captain—at least that’s what he tells me. Everything he does is classified.

  Not that I need him to fight my battles. I can take care of myself. Am I anxious because Hayes might be there?

  How could I not be?

  He was my first everything until, one day, he decided he didn’t love me. That man did a number on me. I fell for him so hard and so fast. He became my universe, and then one day, poof. He decided to push me away. Metaphorically speaking, he threw me into a black hole and forgot all about me. The last time we saw each other he was cruel, distant, and hateful. I’m not in love with him, but my heart never quite recovered from what happened between us. The pangs of pain happen often—if not daily. I don’t think they’ll ever go away; they’ll stay right next to the love I’ll always have for him.

  There are things in life that are impossible to forget, like your first love and your soulmate, no matter how painful it is to remember.

  As the exit to Baker’s Creek comes in to view, so does a sign that says, Welcome to Baker’s Creek. Home of the best… Find Out.

  I push the break and read the sign again. Thankfully, there’s no one driving behind me, or this reckless move would’ve caused an accident. I read it again. It’s new, or at least twelve years old. Who put that in there? It really reads Find out.

  I’m not sure how to feel about that sign. Is it a warning or ... why would they have that?

  The best serial killers, the best blackberry pie, the best … I’ll figure it out and suggest they change it. I’m good at playing chess, puzzles, and solving mysteries.

  Following the instructions of the navigation system, I continue down the road and then turn left toward the bridge. The lake is beautiful, and the view of Mt. Hood makes it magical. It’s as if you leave the world behind, and you enter into a new dimension. The evergreens surround the area. I spot maple trees too and a variety of flowers. Like red currant, red columbines, and a trail of lavender that extends toward the east. I wonder how far the resort is since the snowed mountain looks farther than I remember.

  “Blaire, are you still there?”

  “Yes, sorry I was—”

  “Daydreaming, I know,” she answers. “I’ll leave you to it. Call me when you are settled in and know more about your new net worth.”

  “It wouldn’t be mine,” I clarify. “I’m poor as a country mouse. The last time I checked, I had about thirty dollars on my savings account. Not enough to pay rent, in case you’re going to ask me for it.”

  I’m thankful that the legal firm that represents William paid for my ticket, or I couldn’t have afforded the trip—or this car. I even flew in first class. Do they need me here that badly? The lawyer said, “There are a lot of futures at stake, and the Aldridge brothers can’t do it without you.”

  “Good thing I’m leasing your room to a doctor who works at San Fran Medical,” she laughs. “That’s code for: you are staying on the couch until your next trip.”

  “That sounds like a plan,” I answer absently.

  “Yep, you’re not even paying attention. Drive safe, Blaire.”

  The place makes me want to extend my stay to explore the area.

  As I drive along the narrowed road, I’m in awe by the look of the historical buildings. It’s a mix of the old west and the Victorian era. Nothing has changed much, but I feel like now that I’m older, I appreciate the architecture and the vegetation a lot more than I did when I first came to visit.

  I remember Hayes telling me the Aldridges founded this back in the late eighteen hundreds. They owned most of the town. I wonder if that’s still the case. Wouldn’t it be wild if they say, you’ve inherited the town since the sons don’t give a fuck about it?

  I can see the six brothers fighting over the money, the assets, and the companies outside this magical place.

  The question is why am I being called? Obviously, it has to do with Carter—my late husband. But why here and why is my presence mandatory?

  How can the brothers need me? Most of them hate me.

  That’s what the lawyer said. I’d be helping people. The Aldridge brothers need me. To say that I’m not curious would be a lie. It shouldn’t matter to me. I just need the money, and we can be done with these people forever. The word help, though … that pulls me like a magnet. I thrive on helping others. My parents say I’m a philanthropist by nature. Not that they like it—in fact, they hate that I dedicate my life to serving others.

  The sight of the bakery makes me almost push on the break. They have the best cookies in the world and their croissants are to die for. I drive slow enough so I can look at both sides of the street. There are a few stores I don’t recognize, but others I am familiar with, like the bookstore and the diner.

  I hope the small diner still has its original furniture. It was a trip to the past when we dined in that place. The wait staff and the cooks dressed in clothing from the 50s. If I could, I would stay a couple of extra days, but two days is all the time I have. Unless, I get kicked out before I even settle into my room.

  Tori booked a room at The Lodge. That’s the family ski resort and where the lawyer is expecting me at noon.

  “Ugh,” I groan.

  I only have twenty minutes to arrive, check-in, change, and head to the conference room. I pray that it’s just the two of us. I don’t want to see any of the brothers. The last time I saw them, everyone was in a bad place. Words were said, hearts were broken, and friendships forgotten. No, that’s not true. My heart had been broken way before that day. I guess that day those fragmented pieces were pulverized.

  As I arrived at The Lodge, I turn off the engine and take a deep cleansing breath. I leave my sleeping bag and my hiking backpack in the trunk and pull out the duffle bag. I’ll come for the rest later. It’s a good thing I’m close to the mountains where everyone is backpacking and planning on camping. I won’t look like an odd tourist.

  Is it camping season?

  Maybe not. The only time I camped here was during the 4th of July. There was some celebration over the weekend that we skipped while Hayes and I remained in the woods. My cheeks heat just thinking about him and that weekend. We didn’t explore the area, but we explored each other pretty well. I fan myself because I shouldn’t look flustered thinking about sex or Hayes while walking into the conference room.

  Am I ready to see him?

  No. If the memories of him affect me so much when he’s away, how am I going to react when I see him? My heart stutters at the thought of seeing him again. Back in Brazil, it was an idea that I swept under the rug. When I boarded the plane, it worried me. During the drive, I was brave and ready to attack. But as I step into the lobby, I fully accept that I’m not ready for Hayes.

  I grab onto the sting of humiliation during our last encounter. His rejection, his hate. It’s not emotionally healthy to hold onto such nasty feelings, but I don’t have any other options. If I don’t raise some walls, the alternative might be throwing myself into his arms and telling him that it’s been hard to forget him. I learned that in life it is best to forget the bad and stick to the beautiful parts of your life.

  He was one of those parts. Not that he’d care, which is why I have to pretend again. Like
I did when Carter died. I have to fake that I don’t love him. That he doesn’t affect me. That he’s inconsequential.

  “Good afternoon,” the guy behind the desk greets me. “The hostel is on the other side of town.”

  “You have a hostel in this town?”

  He gives me a shrug. “It’s a shelter, but it sounds better calling it a hostel?”

  I glance at myself and sigh. I look and smell like I’ve been in the jungle for two weeks. That doesn’t give him the right to send me to a shelter because he doesn’t like the way I look. I’m a guest.

  “Blaire Wilson,” I announce, taking my ID and credit card out of my wallet.

  He scrunches his nose and says, “We reserve the right to deny accommodations.”

  I slam my hand on the counter. “Listen, I don’t have time to deal with you. I have about ten minutes to take a shower, change, and go into a meeting.”

  “If you don’t leave the premises, I’ll call the sheriff,” he threatens me, placing a hand on the telephone next to the computer monitor.

  “What do we have here?” My breath stills at the familiar baritone voice.

  Please, don’t be Hayes, I beg.

  The concierge gives me an arrogant glare and then looks at the new arrival. “I’m explaining to this … lady that we reserve the right to deny accommodations.”

  I turn still hoping that it’s anyone but him. My heart stops. Lungs collapse and the entire room spins. I grab onto the counter since my legs can barely sustain me.

  Hayes.

  Tall, dark, and breathtakingly handsome Hayes Aldridge. His green-eyed gaze focuses on me as my heart thunders inside my ribcage.

  Hayes gives me a tight smile, his dimple showing, taking my breath away. He’s still annoyingly handsome. No, he’s even more handsome than when I met him. I want to run a hand through his soft chestnut colored hair and kiss the stubble of his chiseled jaw. Of course, the want has to do with my lack of sleep and lack of human touch. Nothing to do with the man.

  Do I want to ask how he’s doing?

  Maybe because it’s been twelve years and his father just died. I have no idea how things ended between them, but while we dated their relationship was rocky. Hayes denied how much his father’s absence hurt. I want to just hug him and say, I know it hurts but it gets better.

  I don’t speak for several seconds, or maybe minutes. I can’t even move. We just stare at each other. It’s truly painful to be here in front of him as a stampede of memories rush through my head. Stepping back a bit, I remind myself that he’s my past, and he shouldn’t affect me in the present. I loved him, but now, he’s just another guy.

  “Oh, it’s you,” I say, trying to mask the plethora of feelings fluttering inside me.

  His bright green eyes meander along my body before he speaks, “Charming as usual. Why are you here?”

  I can’t help but scrunch my nose. Charming is a word he uses a lot when he doesn’t like someone, but that person is pleasant. Suddenly it’s all too much, his scent, his presence, and the memories.

  Reluctantly, I respond, “I’m guessing for the same reason as you.”

  He studies me, and I hate that I can’t read him well. “You look like you’ve been in the woods for a week.”

  “The Amazon Rainforest,” I correct him, my eyes meet his as I find some balance. Clearly, I wasn’t ready to see him, but I can handle the jungle, I should be able to handle him. “And it was two weeks.”

  He frowns and blinks a couple of times.

  “Long story,” I answer his silent question, wanting to tell him more.

  Everything.

  It’s been twelve years, and he’s still the first person I want to talk with after something exciting happens to me. When I started to travel, I created a blog, and every time I write for it, I imagine I’m talking to him. He was the best listener and the best problem solver, too. The thing about Hayes and I is that we just function perfectly together. We fit perfectly until he decided I wasn’t the piece that completed his puzzle.

  But we’re strangers now, and there’s nothing that we can do or say that would fix the past. Is there?

  I turn around to the snobbish guy and ask, “Now, can I have a room, or should I go to the lake to clean myself?”

  “Nick, give her the key to one of the suites,” Hayes orders the guy then grabs my ID and credit card inspecting them. “You live in San Francisco?”

  “Sometimes,” I respond and turn to the guy. “A normal room works. I can’t afford the suite.”

  The law firm is reimbursing the room and my meals, but I doubt they’ll pay for a suite.

  “It’s on the house,” Hayes says, giving me back my stuff. “Give her a suite—and make sure that any room service is charged to the house account, not to her.”

  Grudgingly, Nick gives me a keycard and instructions on how to get to the elevator bank. I give him a sweet smile and make my way to the elevator.

  “Aren’t you going to thank me for getting you the room?” I hear his voice following behind me, its huskiness stealing the oxygen around us. I walk faster because I don’t think I can have a conversation with him—not yet, or ever.

  Who knew he’d be provoking such emotional havoc in me by just being in his presence for only a minute? I should’ve known, though. My physical reaction to his memories haven’t changed over the years. It’s logical that my response to him would be, at least, as strong.

  “Thank you for coming to my rescue, oh noble Hayes Aldridge,” I say mockingly, pressing the elevator button several times.

  “Blaire.”

  I turn to look at him, trying to keep the little annoyance I can fake because really all I want is … him. We have so much history and such a disastrous ending that I should stay away. I play the cool, yet annoyed woman—a role I hate. Faking and lying are two things I despise.

  Faking that he’s not affecting me is harder than I thought. I take a good look at him. In another reality, if we drifted apart and we found each other again, we’d be thrilled to see each other. This should be the part where we hug, we kiss, and we say how much we missed each other. But we don’t.

  My heart wants to reunite with its soulmate. My body wants to be held by Hayes, but my mind knows it’s impossible. Heat rushes through my bloodstream at the memory of what we shared so long ago. And that curious gaze he gives me reminds me of the first day we met.

  This is my first-time flying solo. College seems like the right step, but it’s also a huge step for someone who’s been homeschooled and away from her peers since middle school. It’s fine, though. College has to be a way better experience than the last four years of my life.

  At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

  Deep breaths, one foot in front of the other. Nothing is impossible.

  You can carry thirty boxes to your room—even if it takes you an entire day.

  I’m so worried about how I’m going to open the door, since both of my hands are occupied, that I don’t notice the boxes in my path.

  In seconds, I’m tumbling, falling forward, and the boxes I hold fly forward too. An arm that feels like a bar of steel secures me by the waist, breaking my fall.

  “You okay?” A deep, rough, almost gravelly voice asks.

  Heart pounding and mortified about dragging the attention of anyone around, I try to straighten myself and recover from the fright.

  “Umm, yes.” I try to play it cool.

  Nothing happened, Blaire.

  Hopefully, no one will remember this incident by the end of the day. So maybe I have to repack my boxes in front of everyone and I’ll finish moving in by midnight. It’s all good.

  I tilt my head and try to look unphased and say, “Thank you.”

  I’m taken aback as I spot a heart-stopping smile. My breath falters. He’s not exactly your average college boy. At least, I didn’t see a guy like him during freshman orientation.

  He’s gorgeous. Sculpted cheeks with dimples. A strong, hard, chiseled jaw
. He also has the most striking green eyes I’ve ever seen.

  Being so sheltered, it only took a matter of seconds for him to capture my attention, and, soon after, he stole my heart. I lived in a cloud of firsts: love, passion, and dreams. Until I fell from it, slamming back down to earth, with so much more than a broken heart.

  The chiming sound announcing the elevator has arrived brings me back to the present. He hasn’t said a word, but his gaze keeps holding mine. I pivot and take a step into the elevator.

  “It’s good to see you,” he says, surprising me, because the last time we spoke, his hatred annihilated me.

  As the doors close and he remains outside, waiting for me to respond, I’m speechless. What am I supposed to say?

  Is it good to see him?

  I don’t know, because it took me years to forget him. Yet, it appears that I did a terrible job.

  Seven

  Hayes

  My stomach clenches. My heart thumps fast and hard against my ribcage. I lean on the wall for a moment, closing my eyes as I calm down from the emotional hurricane I just endured.

  It’s been twelve years. Twelve fucking years since the last time I saw her. She’s more beautiful now than the first time we met. Her body has changed. Her hips are wider, her legs are stronger. Her dark hair is long, and instead of a hat, she’s wearing a big headband, but it’s all the same. She’s covering her head.

  There are things that never change. Her voice is still sweet, raspy. Soothing. In some ways, it feels as if nothing has changed, and yet, she’s changed a lot. My feelings for her, though, they are just as strong as they were when I chose to move to Baltimore. When I chose my future over her.

  Fuck, she’s here.

  Blaire Noelle Wilson is here.

  My Blaire. But she’s no longer mine.

  Her striking blue eyes look a shade darker than I remember. I can’t tell what she’s feeling for me. She was acting strange.

 

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