It was one lie.
We married the day she turned eighteen and chose not to tell anyone.
Then there were two.
Dad died, and I had to get a second job; I just didn’t tell her doing what.
One day I woke up alone, confused, tangled in a web of lies I fabricated. I was incapable of differentiating reality from the fantasy I created. It wasn’t drugs or illicit vices, but the combination of lies, bourbon and my fucking broken heart. It all happened after that one big lie. One wrong move, a mistake that ruined my entire world.
“Our world,” I mumble as I stare at her.
I study Hazel. Focusing on her delicate facial features. She stands across the room, smiling as she listens to a bald, middle-aged man in front of her. After all these years, she looks almost the same. Certainly, she’s no longer the teenager that left me. She has the poise of a businesswoman. But why is she here?
A few seconds pass, but it feels like minutes as I rotate my neck, watching and waiting for someone to jump out of hiding and say, ‘the joke is on you.’ A sense of dread rolls in the pit of my stomach. Hazel seems to be the one in charge of the meeting. I close my eyes briefly, calming myself. Everything will be all right.
Will it?
“North Bay Construction?” Hazel calls out.
Her voice is the same, yet different. It’s somber, mature, but I can hear the sweet tone I craved whenever she was around.
“Good morning.” I nod at her.
“Elliot?” She frowns, taking a small step backward as I saunter close to her.
“North Bay Construction,” I announce, clearing my throat. I hand her my business card.
She looks at the card, releasing a humorless chuckle. “You’re Kyle’s highly recommended guy, aren’t you?”
“I guess. He didn’t tell me much about the company. He’s the one who handles the admin research. I focus on the structures,” I counter, studying her.
She’s tense. Her shoulders slumped slightly, but her fine facial features are rigid. I wonder if she has the same desire to run like I do. Or perhaps my presence doesn’t affect her.
“He provided the general information,” I explain staring at her neutral face.
My mouth dries, my pulse speeds up. I wish time would speed up, so I can flee the scene. I lick my lips, taking a calming breath. At this pace, I’ll have a heart attack before I finish with my presentation. Like a desperate man using his lifeline, I begin my speech.
“All the buildings need more than a facelift,” I indicate, searching inside my briefcase for the folders I prepared.
I hand her one and place the rest on the table next to me. “There’s structural damage too.”
I open my copy, focusing on the pictures and remembering every piece of information I memorized. I describe what I did for the past week, my findings, the conclusions I came up with and take her page by page through what the buildings need, and what I recommend they should implement too. Then, I tell them more about my company. Our work ethics, and explaining our energy efficiency standards, the suppliers I use, and how my timelines work.
“On page seventeen is the quote. I broke the cost per building, stages and the new amenities I suggest for each unit.”
I inhale, lift my gaze and look at her. She’s staring at the folder, biting her full lower lip. For a moment, I study her carefully. Her delicate face, those big hazel eyes and her luscious mouth that parts as her gaze moves through the papers. And I wish she was looking at me with the same intensity, touching me with her delicate hands. I draw in a breath, pushing away the wanting to kiss her long until I fill the void inside my heart. I envision her lips, her body. I wish I could press her against the wall and satiate the starving man who has prayed to see the love of his life at least one more time.
“Kyle mentioned you’re looking for a property management company to maintain the units. We do that too. This is a brand-new division. We only have two clients, but you can call them for references. You can find the cost of our services and 3D blueprints in the SD/business card attached to the front. We can start immediately.”
I breathe out as I finish the short version of my presentation. Hazel’s eyes remain on the papers. She searches for the card I described and pulls it out of the front pocket.
She lifts her chin, her eyes look empty, guarded. “Thank you for coming.”
That’s it?
She’s not interested in me and ready to dismiss my company. If only I could understand what’s going on inside her head. My heart used to know everything about her. The meaning of each frown, smile, and lip bite.
“Do you have questions I can answer before I leave?”
I train my eyes to the floor waiting for her rejection. But she’s silent. My eyes wander to her feet, taking the shapely calves, legs, and her beautiful body. They stop right as I find her gaze staring at the folder I handed her. She hasn’t kicked me out, yet. I loosen my tie slightly waiting for her response. Maybe she’s about to throw a few insults and call security.
Please, don’t shut me down. For once, listen to what I have to say.
This scene is so fucking familiar. I’m begging her to stay, to reason with me. There’s an explanation. We can find solutions to her problems.
“We can customize our services to your needs,” I offer.
“I’ll add that to the file.” Her tone is so cold, my body shivers with the disdain.
“Do you have any questions?”
“I have none,” she says, elaborating no further.
My stomach drops to the floor with her rejection.
She takes a pen, scribbles something and closes the folder. Then, she sets it on top of the pile in front of her.
I lost the bid like I lost her.
We never stood a chance. Fucking Kyle. I grind my teeth, angry at him, at myself for trusting him. Why did he send me?
Inhaling and exhaling she utters the most cliché words I’ve ever heard. “We’ll call you if we choose your company.”
“That’s it?” I squeeze my fist, maintaining my voice in a neutral tone.
“Your information is easy to digest,” she speaks, her gaze fixed on my left hand.
Fuck, I forgot to take off the ring when I saw her. Shit. Hazel flinches before moving her gaze to the back of the room.
“Mr. Everhart, if you want to go through the legal stuff before he leaves. I need to run to my office.”
“We have everything we need,” says a guy I hadn’t notice before.
He stands on the other corner of the room, leaning against the wall. As Hazel exists, he walks toward me. He’s around my age, an inch or two shorter than my six foot four, and has light brown hair.
“I’ll call you if it’s necessary.” His eyes study me; his jaw tightens. “Good luck.”
“Thank you, it was a pleasure.” I exit the conference room turning to the elevators.
Today, I’m the same loser who couldn’t save his marriage. I need to remind myself that I’m not that kid. I have a successful business. From the corner of my eye, I spot her staring at the big window that faces the Golden Gate Bridge and the Pacific Ocean. Her feet bare, her arms extended to the sides.
What is she thinking?
Chapter Four
“No amount of time and space can separate you from the people who you’re meant to be in your life. They will always come back.” ― Anonymous
Hazel
The room spins out of control as Elliot speaks with a thick, vibrant voice that travels through my body, awakening the memories and bringing back the pain. I concentrate on the words and the numbers on the pages. Holding onto the folder he handed me, I pray that I don’t crumble in front of him. Where did my strength go? I had it with me only a few seconds ago.
Damn it. Willow warned me only hours ago—or was it a question? I can’t even remember my conversation with her. Every rational thought disappears. I just want to run away.
Elliot is here.
All six feet and
four inches of Elliot McFee taking over an entire conference room with his presence. His gray eyes staring down at me. His thick brows knitted into a frown. That dark, course hair parted in the middle the same as it used to be when he was younger. Couldn’t he be a fat, bald drunk?
My lungs stop functioning when he asks if I have any questions.
Why are you here?
I can barely breathe. My response comes out with a robot-like tone, promising we’ll be in touch. I excuse myself and rush toward my new office.
Cold sweat drips slowly behind my back, like a sharp knife cutting me open. My lungs threaten to collapse. But I won’t let it happen. I count my breaths and stare at the beautiful view outside my window. The Golden Gate Bridge, the blue water and the hills surrounding the bay area. I become one with the ocean, remembering how little my problems are compared to the vast sea in front of me.
My heart panged at the sight of him. I take a deep breath and exhale. One glance at him, and every single memory escaped from the container where I hid them. They slammed against my heart, and punched me in the gut. All of them are now swirling in my head: from walking with him in diapers to the night I almost died of a broken heart. Once upon a time, I thought we had everything—love, chemistry, and at the time, honesty.
The view of the horizon grounds me. I put my life into perspective. The sun shines. I’m alive. My ex-showing up unexpectedly isn’t the end of the world. Worst things have happened, and I survived.
“This is a good thing,” I mumble.
At least, the awkward first encounter is over. Though I wish it had been different. A casual meeting where we wave at each other and exchange just a few words. Something like, ‘I’m happy you’re doing well.’
It wasn’t as simple. From all the scenarios I imagined, this is the last one I’d expected. For him to walk into my conference room bidding for the project I came to oversee. I touch my temple, fighting the memories. They swirl inside my head, one next to the other.
Our summers together swimming, running around, holding hands…we grew up together. We were supposed to stay together. But life threw us a few curve balls. Our separation was supposed to be only physical. ‘A few years,’ we said.
There are so many ways to shorten the distance. Skype, email, text, and plane rides. The last one only if we saved enough money—we had too many expenses. Every night, we spoke, and I told him every single detail about my day. I thought he was telling me everything about his. He forgot to mention his second job. The one where he allowed other women to touch him.
Years after we said, ‘I do,’ there’s nothing left of our epic love.
The sadness moved away from my heart. I worked through my childhood issues, found the key to cope with the void that sometimes tries to suck me into the vacuum. I’m here to find a future. He’s not included in it.
I don’t care about him, I repeat inside my head.
So why is my heart beating so fast and my hands drenched with sweat?
Maybe because he represents what I want. A little family of my own. I want a house and a place where there will only be unconditional love. Once I’m ready, I plan on having a big one. A house filled with children. My shoulders relax as I find an explanation for my reaction.
“What's wrong, Bee?” His baritone voice slides through my ears like honey, filling my head with more memories that I can handle.
Pull yourself together, Hazel.
You’re a grown, independent woman who can be professional.
“My name is Hazel,” I correct Elliot from using my childhood nickname.
Turning around, I see him outside my new office. The side of his body leans against the door frame. Pretending that he’s not affecting me is getting harder. He’s taller. His body fuller, and his voice huskier.
His piercing steel eyes stare at me. I guess he’s searching for the girl he once loved. Thankfully, she’s no longer here. I’m not her. After what transpired between us, I became more guarded. I confide only in those who earn my trust.
“Did you forget something?” I ask casually.
Elliot shakes his head as his gaze switches from the view to me a couple of times.
“Does my company stand a chance?” His quiet words carry a little annoyance and desperation. “I didn’t have enough time to give my presentation. Winning this contract is important.”
I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms. “You’re the one who talked like a herd of lions was chasing you.”
He huffs, both hands raking through his hair.
“Why do you do that every time you’re nervous or angry?” I ask realizing that no matter how much time passes, some things never change. “If you don’t stop, you'll end up bald. Bye, bye to that thick, dark hair.”
“How can I change your mind?”
“As I said in the conference room, Elliot, the paperwork you provided us has everything we need to make an informed decision.”
Pressing his lips together, he looks at me for several beats. Then, he speaks, “Why don’t you tell me what you need from me to get that contract? Winning is important. A lot of people depend on it. Losing it because of our past doesn’t sound right.”
“I’m a professional. This isn’t the first time I have to choose a contractor,” I say, keeping my voice neutral.
“Ultimately, there’s a committee that will decide,” I continue speaking, using my calmest voice. “We base our decision on quality, cost, specs and your company’s reputation.”
I’m in business mode. I won’t let him get a glimpse of the tumult going inside my head.
“The past won’t influence my decision,” I cry, unable to keep my mouth shut. Vomiting words is a side effect of his unexpected presence.
“I believe you.” He narrows his gaze.
“Though…is our history going to affect your performance?”
His eyes narrow, and his face turn red with anger. “Of course not,” he retorts.
“Well, then it’s set. We’ll call you.”
He straightens his back and takes a few steps toward me. “How long are you staying in town?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” I glance around the office, casually. Moving a few steps away from him.
“It’s a matter of—” I freeze as I sense his presence.
“Good morning.”
The husky voice coming from the door makes my heart skip a few beats.
My eyes divert toward it. Scott stands right outside my office. I hold my breath as my heart pumps faster. He walks into the room. His steps are slow, solid, and determined. His broad shoulders expanding, his spice and woodsy scent overtaking the place, just like his presence does. His blue-green eyes concentrate on me for a few beats.
“Hi, Bee,” he greets me with a light tone, tossing that melting grin he only gifts to a few people—mostly me.
“Hi,” I mumble, confused by his presence.
Scott’s jaw dusted with a two-day-old stubble tenses as his gaze diverts toward Elliot. “Scott Everhart,” he introduces himself, extending his hand.
“Elliot McFee.” Elliot meets his hand.
They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. My body trembles as I try to process this scene. The two men I’ve loved, in the same room. The same men who decided I wasn’t enough for them. My heart cracks. I pinch my wrist, but I don’t wake up from the nightmare.
My palms are drenched in sweat. I wish the earth would swallow me. Why on earth is this happening right now?
This is like the beginning of a bad joke. Your past, present and future walk into a bar and … and what?
Where’s my future?
Who is my future?
Breathe, breathe, Hazel.
My whole body shakes anxiously by the turn of events. I scan my office, as I order my body to stop trembling. Discreetly, I wipe my sweaty hands on my dress. Scott should leave. I left him in New York. He should have stayed in New York. I’m already battling an panic attack. But I also want to run a hand through his sho
rt, brown hair. Ask him to hold me tight until my breathing evens.
“Thank you for your time, Hazel,” Elliot speaks, breaking the thick silence surrounding the three of us. He bows his head slightly toward me. “Call me. I’d love to catch up with you.”
Mute, I wave at him, waiting for Scott to vanish into thin air. A few more minutes and my alarm will wake me up. I’ll stretch my arms, take a few deep breaths and start my day.
“The receptionist mentioned that the presentations were over,” Scott says, his eyes staring at the door.
“They are, for now. I…aren’t you supposed to be in New York?”
Did my grandfather send him? Scott has been helping him even before I came to work with them. He’s one of the few Gramps trust blindly. I thought he trusted me too. Until now that he’s sending Scott to babysit me.
“No, I’m supposed to be here—with you.” He rolls his luggage as he saunters closer to me. His deep, sulky voice vibrates through my chest.
I tilt my head, observing him. I analyze the small wrinkles around his eyes. The deep frown on his forehead. The pain in his eyes. I shrink as the sadness he carries is because of me. His lips part slightly, and I want them caressing every inch of my skin. His absence in my life hurts as much as the absence of his kisses.
“You are here,” I whisper, taking a step back finding my footing, then pointing at his luggage.
“Well, you’re here,” he discloses as if that explains why he appeared out of the blue.
Confused and anxious, I’m unable to form a simple word. This day keeps getting weirder and weirder. My gut clenches in anticipation of the next unexpected event. But my mind circles back to Scott. We haven’t spoken in days, and now he shows up in the one place I never thought I’d see him.
How can this be?
He was on the phone with Fitz only a few hours ago.
“Care to disclose a little more than, you’re here?” I counter, fighting those short answers of his.
His eyes move toward the window. He stares at the view. The corners of his lips pull slightly, and I can see the smile he’s trying to hide. I want to push him out of my office, to hug him because he’s here. Instead of acting, I wait for his next move.
Found Page 3