Can’t Let Go
by
Chrissy Brown
Copyright © 2018 Chrissy Brown
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination, or if an actual place, used fictitiously, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locals is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
For my irritating but ever so sweet husband. I love you.
Chapter 1
Mallory
The blue cushioned seat in row 23A is comfortable enough. My flight is relatively short and on an older plane, so there’s no movie this time. Unfortunately, flying means I have no service on my phone, which also means that the books in my e-reader app are useless. I should have bought a magazine at the kiosk. But because of my lack of planning I’m stuck on an almost two hour flight with nothing but my thoughts.
One thought in particular won’t leave me alone—why am I going back?
It’s not the quietness of a small town or because the stars shine brighter away from the city. And it’s not for the friends I’ve made, because Jess is the only one who’s texted me since I left. What’s pulling me back is what’s kept me away for so long—Beau. And the possibility of seeing him again turns my stomach.
I’ve ran more scenarios about how this day will go in my head than I can count. I’ll show up to Rob and Jess’s house looking fine as hell. I know Beau will be there. But when he sees me flirting and playfully touching someone else his jealousy will get the best of him. He’ll finally talk to me and tell me why he forced me out of his life. And most importantly, he’ll give me the closure I deserve.
Jess’s twenty-first birthday party has created the perfect window of opportunity. She called last week, begging me to come out. I wasn’t going to come, but the all-expenses paid ticket to Georgia was hard to refuse. However, now that I’m getting closer to Atlanta, I almost wish I was still sitting on the beach, drinking my memories away, pretending that Beau didn’t shatter my heart into a million pieces.
I close my eyes and hear Beau’s voice in my head.
“You’re foolish to come. Go back to Florida before you become broken beyond repair.”
I sigh and open my eyes. I am foolish, but that’s because only fools fall in love. Or perhaps it’s that they rush in? I don’t know. I guess I did both—rushed into a relationship and fell too hard. Either way, I’m a fool.
I slide the window shade up and notice the pilot is circling the runway. Once, twice, three times.
Why is it taking so long to land?
Finally, fifteen minutes later, the plane touches down and I’m allowed to de-board. I grab my rolling carry-on bag and my backpack from the overhead compartment then shuffle my way through the sea of bodies in the Atlanta terminal.
A young girl is behind the counter at the rental car kiosk. Her bubbly demeanor and inability to find my vehicle reservation is trying my patience. I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath. Maybe this is a sign. Maybe coming back is a bad idea.
Two and a half long hours later, I can finally the yellow one-bedroom cottage that Jess and Rob call home. The small, flat-roof house is tucked away on a corner lot. One side of the chain-link fence enclosing their backyard faces a dimly lit street lined with houses. The opposite side of the fence looks at a small field of grass that’s used for the neighboring church’s overflow parking. Tonight, however, it serves as a parking space for me and more than a dozen other vehicles.
Opening the front door, I’m hit with the familiar odor of weed, whiskey, and sex. The music’s loud, I can barely hear the polite hello’s from people who probably have no idea that I moved back home. Looking around, there’s few familiar faces loitering inside, playing video games, but almost everyone is in the backyard hanging out by the fire.
I take a deep breath, hoping it will settle my nerves and head for the kitchen. Tonight isn’t a night that I want to tackle sober. Grabbing a Bud Light from the top shelf of the fridge, a high-pitched squeal startles me. I jump, hitting my head on the edge of the freezer door. Rubbing my new sore spot, I close the fridge and look around. Jess runs into the kitchen, her hands waving about like a madwoman, before she throws them around my neck. The sheer force of her embrace makes me stumble back against the fridge.
“Good to see you too,” I say through a laugh.
“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. Two months is just too long.” She squeezes me tighter.
“How’d you know it was me.”
She pulls back and gives me a lopsided grin. “Please, I’d know that ass anywhere.”
I can’t help but laugh when she slaps me on the butt. It feels good to be back. As much as I hate to say it, I’ve missed this tiny house. Most of all, I’ve missed Jess, but the thought of leaving again is already tugging at my heartstrings. Fighting a frown, I twist the cap off my beer and take a sip.
Someone clears their throat and I realize we’re still blocking the fridge. I look up and step to the side, out of the way. Jess’s boyfriend, Rob, holds his hand up for a high five.
“Long time no see, lady,” he says as our hands slap together.
“Yeah, it’s been a minute.” I force a smile, feeling my heart sink. I avert my gaze to scan the room. My heart gallops, filling my ears with violent thuds.
“It’s all right,” Rob nudges my arm, like he knows who I’m looking for. “He’s not here.”
Both disappointed and relieved, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“I went and saw him once after y’all split,” he says. “I’ve never seen Beau so tore up before. It’s like something inside him snapped.”
I take a sip of my beer, unsure of what to say. I doubt Beau was that tore up over me. If he was, he would have called by now. Or texted. Or something. Right?
Chapter 2
Beau
Eight weeks. Mallory’s been gone eight weeks, but it feels like a lifetime. My mind has been playing tricks on me since she left. She’s everywhere and nowhere all at once, but my house is the worst. There isn’t a single room in it where I don’t have memories. They flood my brain, taking over my senses, nearly crippling me.
Driving to tonight’s party, I look at the passenger seat where Kevin sits and my pulse quickens. Shaking my head, I sigh, remembering all the time Mallory and I spent together in my truck. So many memories.
A sharp ache stabs at my gut as I think about her. The day I pushed Mallory away was the worst day of my life. It’s the day I lost my best friend. The day alcohol became my drug of choice.
If not for Kevin dragging me out of my garage-apartment, I’d never leave. But he insists, reminding me that it’s not healthy to drown my sorrows in a bottle alone in the dark. So, Kevin and I go out and I drown them on someone else’s couch, watching the world move on without me.
That’s how we ended up in my truck on a desolate road that will eventually take Kevin and I to Rob and Jess’s place. I haven’t been over to their house since Mallory left and if I’m being truthful, I’m terrified. I know it’s been forever and that Mallory is back in Florida, but I can’t shake the fear that I’m going to run into her.
“Dude,” Kevin says, staring out the window. “We should have made hunch punch. Jess loves hunch punch. She drank that every day for a year.”
Jess and her binge drinking is something I’m all too familiar with. Rob used to be poison running through her veins.
She’d drown her pain and I’d always be the one to make sure she was all right. Rob was usually passed out somewhere, oblivious to Jess’s dependency issues. I rub the back of my neck and let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah. She used to get wasted on it.”
Kevin shakes his head. “Do you remember that time Jess got so drunk she ran away and followed some cat back to the house? Like, how do you forget where you live?”
I nod. That was a bad night. Kevin and Rob don’t remember it like I do. They don’t remember the hysterical crying or that she came back with half her clothes missing. They know only what I chose to tell them, what Jess was comfortable with them knowing. I force another laugh. When we stop laughing it’s quiet. I’ve never been a fan of quiet. I turn the radio on, filling the void where our conversation should be.
Kevin turns back to the window. “You think this is a good idea?”
I shrug and he takes that as a yes.
The grassy field beside Rob’s house is overflowing with cars. I park in an empty slot down by the street light. Without a word, Kevin gets out and heads to the party. Looking over at the church, the pain in my gut returns. More memories.
I grab the bottle of Jack Daniels from the back seat and stare at the crowd of people lingering by the firepit. I’m nervous, a feeling I never had before Mallory walked into my life. My hands shake. I clumsily break the seal on the bottle and take a shot. I chase the pain in my gut away with another shot and then another. The liquid burns as it goes down, but it’s a slow burn. One I’ve gotten all too used to over the past two months. I put the cap back on the bottle and take a slow breath. It’s now or never.
Walking over, Kevin’s got his arm up, leaning over some redhead by the front door. She looks familiar, but he hooks up with so many girls I can’t keep them straight.
Walking into this party is like reliving a memory. Only this time I’m not the center of attention. People don’t acknowledge me. There are no high fives, no “where’ve you been’s,” no dirty looks. It’s like I don’t exist anymore.
I twist the cap off the bottle again. Placing the opening to my lips, I fill my cheeks until they can’t hold any more, then swallow. The alcohol is slowly working its magic, lulling the pain a little.
Someone shoves my shoulder forcing me to take a few steps to the right. Before Mallory left I would have been heated, ready to throw down. Now, I just don’t care.
“What do you think you’re doing here?” my assailant asks. A half second later the voice registers in my groggy brain. Rob’s standing a foot away with his tattoo-covered arms crossed in front of his chest. He snatches the bottle of whiskey from my hand and takes a swallow before glaring at me again.
“In my defense, you said not to come back until I was over her.”
Rob’s eyes narrow at me. “And are you?”
My gaze falls to the ground. I don’t think I’ll ever be over her. She’s like a unicorn-rare, exquisite, magical. The pain in my stomach comes back again. Mallory had the ugliest pink unicorn pajama pants. Stupid memories.
“I think you should leave.”
I cover my heart with my hands and pretend to be hurt. I am, but I can’t let Rob know that. “What? Why?”
Rob looks over his shoulder. My eyes are drawn to her like a magnet. I couldn’t look away even if I tried. Her brown hair has been highlighted, and her figure is a little fuller, but she’s still the same beautiful girl I fell in love with.
Mallory’s head is thrown back laughing at god-knows-what some dude said. He brushes a lock of hair behind her ear and the whiskey bubbles up in my throat. I swallow it and bile back down. Every inch of me wants to leave, but my feet are glued to the ground.
“Rob what are you—” Jess’s words cut off. Her mouth falls open and the color in her face washes away. I swallow the knot that’s built up in my throat and manage to wave.
Mallory looks at Jess. Her brows push together as her eyes move from Jess over to me. What’s left of Mallory’s face blanches, her smile disappearing as soon as our eyes lock. Her beer slips out of her fingers, the yellow liquid spills all over the floor. She turns and runs into their bedroom.
My gaze flits around the room. No one’s chasing after her, not even the guy she was just flirting with. Everyone’s just staring at me, like this is my fault.
Rob puts a hand on my shoulder, instinctively knowing my next move. I shove him of and walk through the crowd of people, ignoring their judgy eyes. I look around the bedroom but Mallory’s nowhere to be seen. The adjoining bathroom door is shut, probably locked. Taking a deep breath, I exhale through my nose. This is it. The moment I’ve been putting off for far too long. I could turn around and leave but I’m selfish. I need to have her in my arms again.
I lean my forehead against the door. It’s cold, shocking my system. “Mallory, can you open the door please.”
“No,” she screams, her voice cracking. The sound of her sobs is audible through the wood. I take a deep, pained breath and close my eyes. She’s just as broken as the day I met her. Only this time, it’s all my fault.
A firm hand rests on my shoulder. “Hey man, come on.”
I know the voice without looking and shrug the handoff. Kevin touches my arm this time and says, “Dude, leave her alone. You’ve done enough already.”
“Leave me alone,” I deadpan. Kevin clenches his jaw. He holds his hands up in surrender and stalks away, mumbling under his breath.
I pound my fist against the door, more desperate to reach her than before. “Mallory, open up.”
“No,” she cries.
“Baby, I need to talk to you. Please.”
The door rips open and a soft white light casts a halo around Mallory. She looks like an angel. A sad, broken angel with wet trails of mascara running down her cheeks. It takes every bit of restraint I have not to wipe away her tears.
Mallory’s breaths are coming in short huffs. I reach my hand out to her, but she flinches and takes a step back. I sigh, letting my gaze fall to the floor.
I’ve majorly screwed things up.
We stand in the doorway. The silence eats away at me but I don’t leave because Mallory hasn’t turned away yet. And being with her in this awkward state is better than not being with her at all.
She raises her fist and clashes it into my stomach. “I hate you.”
The blow is more shocking than painful, but I double over, wrapping my hands around my waist. Mallory’s eyes widen, probably not expecting my reaction. She gasps and hurls herself into me, her delicate hands clutching at my shirt collar.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I just missed you so much.”
Straightening up, I wrap my arms around her, relishing in the feeling of holding her again. The sweet smell of coconut fills my nostrils and I let it take over.
My body begins to react to the way hers molds into mine. I can’t help it, she’s my kryptonite. “I missed you too, baby. I’m sorry there’s—”
Both hands press against my chest, shoving me away as Mallory rears back. There’s a cool breeze where her body once was.
“No,” Mallory growls. “You don’t get to call me ‘baby’. You don’t have the right anymore.” Her face pinches together making three small wrinkles near her nose. I try not to laugh because she’s too cute when she’s angry.
Realization hits and fire begins to tickle at the back of my throat. Mallory’s right. I don’t have any rights when it comes to her anymore and I certainly don’t deserve her. The only thing I deserve is that punch and if she wants to do it again, I’ll let her.
Mallory turns away from me. She closes the lid on the toilet and takes a seat, burying her face in her hands. The sound of soft whimpers echo in the small space.
Stepping into the bathroom, I close the door behind me and lock it. Crossing the room in three long strides, I fall to my knees. My hands grasp at the back of her calves. I lean my forehead against Mallory’s legs, half expecting her to kick me away but she doesn’t.
“I’m sorry.
I’m so, so sorry.”
My apology is long overdue and probably worth nothing at this point, but I owe her at least that much. Mallory sniffles. She touches my shoulder, sending a tingling sensation throughout my body. I look up into her pained eyes, puffy and red from crying.
“Why didn’t you call me or text me or something?” Her wet eyes bore a hole into what’s left of my shattered heart. “I could have forgiven you, but you shut me out.”
There’s a thickness in my throat a shot of whiskey could fix, but it’s out in the living room and I can’t bring myself to leave Mallory yet. My gaze falls to her feet.
Not knowing how to answer her question, I shrug. I should have called her. I should have gotten on a plane and went to her, but I didn’t. Instead, I stayed here drowning my pride in every bottle I could find, like a coward.
Two Months Earlier
Chapter 3
Mallory
I didn’t know what to expect when my Aunt said she’d arranged a friend for me to hang out with this weekend. I guess when she agreed to let me visit for a few weeks, she didn’t expect me to become a hermit. I’ve hidden in my room every night the past week with a bottle of wine, trying to forget how my ex-fiancé screwed me over. And tonight, because she threatened to send me back to Fort Lauderdale if I didn’t matriculate back into society, I’m in a borrowed car on my way to my very first friend-blind-date.
After two and a half hours of directions and a half hour of deciding my way would be better, and being completely wrong, Siri’s lead me to a single-story house in a cookie-cutter neighborhood one could only describe as “cute.”
The girl I assume to be my new friend, Shannon, is leaning against an older style red Nissan, probably waiting for me.
“You Mallory?” she asks when I park and open my door.
“Yeah.”
“I’m Shannon. Let’s go.”
After grabbing my phone and purse from my car, I climb in her passenger seat. Fingers crossed this weekend isn’t a disaster.
Can't Let Go Page 1