Say You Swear

by Meagan Brandy

  “Something happened,” I whisper to myself.

  But what?

  Did he leave me?

  Hurt me?

  Were we even dating or was it… what were we?

  And then I get to the last entry on the page.

  December twenty-third, so after the accident, the words pick up the CB, with an address attached.

  I Google it, finding it’s a printing company not far from campus. I try calling, but they’re closed.

  The rest of the night I’m stuck wondering what I could have possibly ordered, and by the time morning rolls around, I’m more than ready to find out, but classes begin today, so whatever it is will have to wait.

  Noah

  * * *

  I woke up this morning with a little less weight on my shoulders.

  Nothing is good, not by a longshot, but she came to me without direction. She looked at me like she used to.

  She felt me like I feel her.

  All over, in every part of her, she just didn’t understand it. I should have kept my mouth shut and kissed her but kissing her would be the cruelest form of torture, and I’m not so sure how much more I can take. My mom’s not here to talk me through this, and I won’t bother my friends with problems they can’t find a way to fix.

  It’s been the longest six weeks of my life, but I’m hoping it gets better.

  We’re back on campus now. Back to the hustle of college life and I’m hoping everywhere she goes, everywhere she looks, she sees me as I do her.

  I see her in the fountain we sat on the night I found her at the bar.

  I see her at the coffee shop and on the picnic tables.

  In the library and on the track.

  The gym, field, and every other inch of this place, because I’ve held her hand across every part of it. I’ve kissed her in every corner.

  I’ve loved her in secret, but I’m not so sure how much of a secret it was.

  I think she knew.

  I hope I showed her what she meant to me.

  What she’ll forever mean to me.

  If she isn’t mine in the end, I’ll still be hers.

  It’s torture.

  But it’s true.

  There’s no coming back from a girl like her.

  The hope is I won’t have to, but as I step out of the coffee shop, I’m reminded of why I left hope behind long ago, after my mom’s second stroke.

  Ari stands off to the side of the building, a peppermint latte in hand, no doubt, extra hot like the one burning my left palm this very instant, Chase a foot before her.

  My baby smiles up at a man that isn’t me, and when he wraps his arm around her shoulder, mine fall.

  I slip into the shadow of the tree as they start walking this way, my eyes closing as her laughter threatens to tear my heart from my chest.

  Only once they’re gone do I step out, throwing the coffee I bought her in the can untouched.

  I have class in an hour, but I don’t care.

  My feet carry me to my truck and my truck leads me to the highway.

  The same highway I drove her down more times than I can count.

  It’s like I said, she’s everywhere.

  My Juliet.

  A bitter laugh leaves me and I shake my head.

  Maybe the answer to our ending was given from the start.

  If I’m Romeo and she’s Juliet, maybe this is the fate I put on us that very first day. Love forbidden, but in our story, we’re forbidden by fate.

  Maybe I was the placeholder, as Mason wondered.

  Maybe I’m not the man of her dreams, but the understudy who did the noble work. Who befriended a broken girl. Who showed her what it meant to matter to a man, how it felt to be loved. She knows now that she’s worth the world and deserves even more.

  Ari is strong enough to demand what she’s always wanted now, and the person she still believes she wants it from is ready to give it to her.

  Chapter 51

  Arianna

  * * *

  By the time I’m done for the day and manage to track Mason down about borrowing his Tahoe, the printing shop is once again closed. They couldn’t say much over the phone, other than confirming I had an order that was getting dusty on the pickup shelf.

  Chase has called a few times, but after his unexpected arrival this morning, when I was really hoping for a little time to explore campus alone, something I think he should have realized, I’ve let his attempts go unanswered.

  Thankfully, Mason agrees to drop his keys and car off to me tomorrow morning before class, so I make the executive decision to skip the first day of my second set of classes.

  I make sure to email the teachers before bed so that I don’t get dropped from the courses, and I’m on the road the next morning, minutes before the place opens.

  It takes about fifteen minutes to get to the place, and I smile at the large neon sign above the door that reads, Paper Dreams and Things.

  The woman behind the counter smiles as I enter and turns to the giant wall made of little cubes.

  “You are going to love the way this thing turned out!” She shakes her head, placing a shoe box-sized package in front of me. “Let’s pull it out so you can make sure it’s all correct.” She begins tugging on the gold tie holding it closed, and I dart a hand out.

  “No, wait,” I rush out.

  She freezes.

  “I uh, it looks so pretty with the ribbon. I don’t want to mess it up. I’m sure it’s perfect.” I nod anxiously.

  “Oh, no problem at all.” The woman folds a few pieces of paper, placing them on top of the box and pushes it toward me. “Oh, I almost forgot! This…” She removes a sticky note from the side of the box I can’t see, pressing it down on top as well. “A woman came in and left this address. Asked that we tell you to come back after you picked this up. I guess she’s been tryin’ to reach ya, too.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that. My emails are buried right now.”

  “Well, hun, you have a happy holiday.”

  And just like that, she moves on to another customer, and with tense muscles, I carry the box, no heavier than a pair of shoes to the car.

  Rather than pull it open, I put the address on the sticky note into Mason’s GPS, and fifteen minutes later, I’m pulling into a parking lot I’d be happy to never see again.

  Killing the engine, I climb out and hope I’m headed into the right area, a little unsure when I get closer and see the name of the place.

  Tri-City Rehabilitation Center.

  I remember this place. I saw it when I came back for my follow-up.

  With a deep breath, I head inside and a wave of nausea hits me.

  The woman behind the counter smiles, waving me forward, so with slow steps, I do, and as she hangs up the phone, she beams.

  “Sign on in, honey. Who you here to see?”

  “Oh, um—”

  “Ari?”

  My head snaps left to find a woman around my mom’s age walking up, a clipboard in her hand. “Hi.”

  “I’m so glad you made it by! I’ve been trying to reach you for days. I was going to call Noah, but she made me promise not to.”

  My heart beats wildly and I nod.

  Who made her promise?

  She frowns, slowly moving behind the counter. “Give me a minute, okay, hun?”

  “Yeah, sure.” I swallow, consider turning and running away, but I don’t know why. There’s a heaviness creeping over me, threatening to knock me over.

  A little less than ten minutes go by, and the woman comes back, a sealed envelope inside, something hard within it. “Sorry about that. Here.” She passes it over, speaking gently. “So sorry for your loss, she was very loved here.”

  My smile is tight, and I nod.

  “Take care of yourself, Ari.”

  “Thanks, Cathy.” With that, I leave the building but freeze right outside.

  Cathy.

  How…

  I shake it off, more confused now than I was before.r />
  I drive back to campus, my knee bouncing the entire time, and rush up to my room. Thankfully, Cameron isn’t home, so I lock my door and set both the box and letter before me.

  Minutes, maybe even hours pass, and I don’t move. I pace my room, comb my hair a dozen times, never once taking my eyes off the top of my comforter.

  My phone rings, but I ignore it.

  My stomach growls, but I ignore that too.

  “Fuck it.”

  I jump onto the bed, tear the envelope open, and pour the contents out.

  My mouth gapes when another sealed envelope falls out, a folded piece of paper falling on top of it addressed to me.

  A letter.

  It’s a letter.

  It takes a moment, but I find the courage to open it, setting it down before me.

  Grabbing a pillow for support, I bury my mouth against it as I hug it to myself, and I hold my breath.

  And then I look down and read.

  * * *

  Dear Arianna,

  * * *

  I’m not quite sure how to start this letter so I’m just going to dive right in and tell you that you, sweet girl, are a gift I never thought I would receive. You are the gift. The one that has allowed me to breathe for the first time in a very long time. Because of you, my daily struggle has lessened and I’m finally able to put my white flag to rest.

  What does that mean? Well, it means that my mind and heart are finally on speaking terms with my body. And if I’m understanding the secrets my body has shared with me, I’ve left him.

  I’ve left my son.

  If you haven’t guessed, this letter is from me, Lori Riley, Noah’s mother.

  * * *

  I gasp, my hold on the pillow tightening.

  * * *

  I know you don’t remember me, but we’re good friends, you and I, but we can come back to that. Back to Noah.

  As you once knew, I was all he had in this world. For all of his life, it was simply him and I and while I wouldn’t change a thing about the lives we lived, I came to regret a lot of it. With that regret came resentment, and it pointed straight back at me.

  See, I failed to realize that by loving him, by pouring every ounce of energy I had into our lives and his future, I didn’t leave room for more, something I didn’t realize until after I had my first stroke Noah’s senior year in high school.

  From that day on, in the back of my mind has been fear.

  Fear that something would happen to me and my son would be left all alone in this world.

  And then I had my second stroke, the one that landed me here.

  The fear became crippling, but I tried to hide it, and I held on with every bit of power I had left. Some days I could barely speak at all, because my body was trying to tell me it was time. That I needed to make peace and let go, but I couldn’t. Not yet. Not when in doing so, Noah would be left with nothing but heartache. I never felt like such a failure.

  I was a woman who not so long ago was proud of the job she did raising such an amazing man on her own, and all of a sudden, I hated myself. I was drowning in helplessness I saw no way out of. I was going to wither away slowly before my son’s eyes, trying to hold on.

  Defeat consumed me.

  And then I met you.

  * * *

  Tears pool in my eyes as I grip the paper, pulling it closer.

  * * *

  I felt I knew you before I met you and I loved you the moment I did.

  As I said to you the day you asked me to help you make my son a gift, you put life back into my boy. It had been so long since his eyes shined. Since his smile was real and not placed there for me to see. That’s not to say he wasn’t happy. He was. He did what he set out to do and earned his place at Avix U, something I know deep down he did for me. So yes, he was happy, but his happy came in moments that didn’t last past nightfall. My son walked with the weight of a man on his shoulders, and because of that weight, he closed himself off from the things a person needs to keep going.

  Until you came along.

  He fell in love with you, Arianna, maybe even the day he met you.

  You were hurting and he yearned to be the reason you healed. And he was.

  Sweet, Arianna, my Noah became your Noah, and honey, he was your everything, just as you are his.

  You fell for him right back and you never got up.

  * * *

  Love, Lori, the mother forever in debt to the woman who loves her son.

  * * *

  Tears fall from my eyes as I read the last line, and then I move to the text beneath it, written in a different language.

  Non temere la caduta, ma la vita che nasce dal non aver mai saltato affatto.

  My fingers are drawn to the script, and I slowly glide the pads of my fingertips across it.

  A flash flicks before my eyes, and I freeze.

  Holding my breath, I do it again.

  Another flash.

  Again.

  And then the page morphs.

  Suddenly, my fingers aren’t tracing the words on college-ruled paper, but on a tan, smooth chest of a man. A man who lies in the center of my bed.

  My hand tingles as his comes down to cover mine, and a shaky breath escapes as he glides my touch along the warmth of his body, and I follow the path to his lips.

  He kisses my knuckles then, his body lifting off the pillows until his breath brushes along my skin. He leans in and my eyes close, a flash of blue revealing itself on the other side.

  But not just any blue.

  It’s deep and depthless.

  Bold and brilliant, like the center of the ocean, or a mountain’s night sky.

  They’re tender and limitless and locked on mine.

  “Juliet…”

  I gasp, choking on nothing. The paper falls from my hands, and I stumble from my bed, hitting and sliding down the wall.

  I can’t see before me, but I see.

  I see him.

  I see the night of the bonfire, and the night at the club.

  I see the morning coffee and the daytime cooking.

  I see the bumper boats and his mouth an inch from mine.

  I feel his hands on me as I sit on top of the kitchen counter and the heat of his eyes.

  The warmth of his body.

  The beat of his heart… pressed against mine.

  I feel him. All over.

  Everywhere.

  A rush of yearning hits me, forcing the air from my lungs and my body racks with sobs. “Oh my god… Noah.”

  Chapter 52

  Arianna

  * * *

  If I could go back in time, I would do so many things differently.

  It’s sad how it takes a solid blow to learn a hard lesson.

  How loss shakes your core in a way love can’t.

  Love aches, but love is a blessing, something you’d be lucky to experience.

  Loss hurts, but loss is necessary, something you have to experience.

  Loss makes people realize what they want. It lights a fire on a blind path and guides you through the flame, burning the uncertainties standing in your way as you go. It drives you to discover what you want because life is short. Too short.

  And unpredictable.

  Loss forces you to recognize who you can’t live without, who you refuse to lose. Loss makes you reckless, because loss? It sets you free.

  At least, this is what it’s done to me.

  It’s strange how a person trapped in their own mind walks without fear.

  Fear is the one thing I’m not sure I’ve felt this entire time.

  I’ve been nervous and anxious and unsure, on edge, but never afraid.

  But right now, I am.

  I’m fucking terrified.

  Because I’m about to break someone.

  People say to love someone with all you are is the most selfless thing you can do, but I find the opposite to be true.

  Love has made me selfish because I can’t live without the man my heart belongs
to. The man it truly belongs to.

  I did a lot of thinking during the night. Reflecting on the last four years of my life, and when I woke this morning, it’s as if my eyes were clear for the first time.

  That means I have to break the heart of a man whose only fault is my need for someone else.

  It’s going to be hard.

  Maybe even devastating.

  But as I said…

  Love made me selfish.

  Loss made me see.

  And longing I can’t live with.

  Which is why I’m already out the door.

  It’s time he knows where he stands.

  That this is real.

  And we’re forever.

  I take the steps two at a time, and as I reach the front door, the man I came to see appears.

  His eyes find mine instantly, and a soft smile appears.

  Mine follows.

  “I called.”

  “I know.”

  Chase holds out his hand, and I take it.

  Chapter 53

  Arianna

  * * *

  Nothing forces a man to admit his feelings for a woman more than witnessing the interest of another man.

  That’s what Noah said to me the day we met.

  Chase was across the fire, watching with worry as a man I’d only met held my attention, and held it he did.

  That was when ‘we’ began.

  The massage in the living room.

  The ice cream in the kitchen.

  Our night on the beach.

  Once we crossed that line, the one there’s said to be no going back from, back we went.

  Chase made a choice, and while it hurt, I understood.

  I respected his decision, and then I fell apart.

  That’s when Noah came along.

  Little by little, I was put back together. I fell in love, and then my world was turned upside down, and I realized, I was already in love. Before.

  Long before.