That's the Way I Loved You

by Carrie Aarons

  Almost everyone in the bar is now ignoring us, and no one else has come up to greet me in happiness. I feel the sour looks from every corner; I’m the enemy here. For a town that once loved me, they took his side in our sort of divorce.

  “She’s trying to sell our house, that’s what she’s doing here. She’s trying to cut her last tie with Hale.”

  Jason sidles up to us, and I’m so surprised by his quiet approach that I startle. He puts a hand to my back, since I almost knock into him and the two glasses full of beer that Thomas just set down in front of us, and it’s the first time he’s touched me in …

  Forever.

  It feels like taking a drink after thirsting for a millennium. That light splay of his fingers is home. It’s the massive puzzle piece-sized chunk that’s been missing from my life for ten whole years.

  I both hate that I crave it and lean into the completeness of it.

  Jason and I, we were magnetic. Fate had decided on us for each other and wanted it to be so. For a very long time, I’d never questioned that. I’d taken it as fact.

  But that was once upon a time. And this was after the fallout.

  So I shrink away, back to my own personal bubble, and pretend his hand didn’t linger there for longer than it needed.

  8

  Jason

  Hours later, a tipsy Savannah follows me out to the parking lot.

  “Seriously, Jason, you’re not even going to talk about this? I showed up here tonight because you asked, and I thought you’d be mature and have a discussion. How little I forget.”

  She throws her hands up, and I can feel the white wine coming out of her pores from here. After her first beer, she switched to Chardonnay. When we were together, she couldn’t stomach anything dryer than Moscato, but I guess New York really has changed her, palette and all.

  She’s only had three drinks, but even I can tell she’s swaying too much to drive herself. I should go get Cecily, ask her to take Savannah back to wherever she’s staying, but I’m a masochist. I love her anger, her annoyed tone. Because it means attention, and it’s been so long since she’s given me any.

  Yep, I’ll stab the knife into my own heart.

  “Wasn’t it nice to see your old friends?” I dig deeper, trying to get under her skin.

  She nears me as I lean against the driver’s door of my truck. How many times have we been in this exact position, but with her between my legs, pressing her lips to mine? My fingers still spark from the contact I made with her back in there, almost two hours ago.

  I hate that she’s the only woman I will ever crave. I can’t stand the thought of her being with another man. I want to rage against the world for having us end up this way.

  “Yes.” She touches a finger to her lip, ruminating on it. “It actually was.”

  Because she hadn’t just given up on me. Savannah’s entire life, all the people who loved her, had been here. Most of them still were. I was so fucking disappointed that she’d abandoned them. Hell, she hadn’t even been on the radar to attend Cecily’s wedding, and that was just tragic.

  “See? I’m enriching you as a person. Making you a human again.” My smile is sickeningly sarcastic.

  “Pssh, because what? My morality has been ruined since I’ve been away? Get over yourself, Jason. The world is a bigger place than just Hale, Texas.”

  I lower my eyes, so many things to be said swirling around in my head. “It always surprised me that you could so easily forget them.” I point back to the bar where our old friends still laugh inside. “And don’t talk to me about things I already know. Back in the day, it was I who was going to make it out of here for the both of us.”

  Before my career had ended in eighty-five percent mobility in my knee, I was headed for the big leagues. Even had a contract on my desk, just looking to be signed. Our plan had been to travel the world, her by my side, me playing the sport I loved. It had all come crashing down, though.

  Savannah is quiet and then begins fumbling in her purse. “You know what? If you’re not going to talk about the house, if we can even call it that, then I’m going to go. I’ll get a lawyer, we’ll do this the hard way.”

  She sways a bit on the way to the car, and I swoop in quickly, taking the keys out of her hand. “You’re not driving.”

  “Hey!” She swats at me, but I’m too tall compared to her sprite-like figure. “Give those back!”

  “I’m not having you kill someone over a shack in the woods that saw our relationship’s death.” My eyebrows slope down at her. “Get in the truck.”

  Savannah sucks in her breath. I haven’t told her to get in my truck in a long time. This used to be second nature for us.

  “And do what? Listen to your bitching for the next ten minutes? No thank you.” She exaggerates the last word.

  “If you get in the truck, I’ll discuss the house.” Anything to keep her from killing herself, or someone else, on the road.

  I watch as her petite, curvy frame saunters over, obliging happily once I mention her precious house. My God, she’s always been the most beautiful thing my eyes have ever held. She’s dressed like some slinky supermodel tonight, in expensive fabrics that cling to her skin. Her hair is fuller, and I want to wrap it around my fist. My cock hardens at just the slightest shimmy of her hips, and I’m reminded of just how long it’s been without her. Without anyone.

  Savannah walks around the bed of my truck and lets herself into the passenger seat, like she’s done a thousand times before. I have to take a steadying breath before I step up onto the foot rail, because I know getting in there with her is going to wreck me even further.

  And I’m one hundred percent correct. Her musky vanilla scent fills the cab like it’s her own, and wraps around my brain. How many times did I lay her down in here, across the bench seat while our heads bumped the steering wheel? How many times did she moan my name on this scratchy leather?

  My hands are shaking by the time I reach for my keys and start the engine.

  The drive starts out relatively silent until a tipsy Savannah can’t keep her thoughts in her head any longer. She was always so chatty with a few drinks in her.

  “Gosh, I can’t believe Cecily is married.”

  Keeping my eyes on the road, I nod. “Thomas is a good guy. She’s very happy here.”

  Every one of my comments or statements is backhanded, and I know it doesn’t slip past her notice. Good.

  “And Jenks as the sheriff! I feel like I’m in the twilight zone.” She chuckles.

  “Don’t we all? I’d have laughed my hide off if you told me a month ago that I’d be in my truck with Savannah Reese.”

  “It has been a long time, hasn’t it?” I feel that pretty hazel stare burning a hole into the side of my face as I refuse to look at her.

  “Why did you never pay for it? Sell it?” she asks in a hushed voice, as if she knows this is the most complicated of subjects.

  And it is. Even more than our breakup, or my hatred for her leaving … my reasons are my secrets alone.

  Thankfully, we pull up to the house in that exact moment, and I’m saved by my opening door from answering.

  The shack, our shack, looks the same as it always does. Decrepit. Ramshackle. Kind of like the relationship between us.

  “Gosh, this place is a dump, isn’t it? How did we ever think we could fix it up? We were so broke back then.” She marvels at it under the moonlight.

  And then an idea strikes me.

  “I’ll tell you what. You fix this house up, actually put in the work on something that means a damn to this town, and I’ll buy it from you. You can walk, go back to your Yankee life and hoity-toity boyfriend.”

  Savannah’s eyes swing to me, shock and surprise all over her face. Not only did I issue a gauntlet, but I mentioned the boyfriend. I know nothing about him, but I hate him anyway on principle.

  “You’ll buy it from me? That’s rich. With what money? You know, since we owe about ten years of back taxes. I’ll end
up fixing it up and you’ll still refuse to sell. How do I know this isn’t a trick?”

  She has no idea what I do now, how far I’ve come. And I won’t tell her either. In her world, the one she’s a part of now, money and power are the attractive things. Once upon a time, Savannah loved me for the man I was and the four nickels I had to rub together.

  So instead of answering, I stick my hand out, wiggling the fingers.

  In the moonlight, those hazel orbs recognize what I’m doing. Tentatively, like I might burn her when we touch, she puts the back of her hand to mine. We wiggle our fingers together, sliding the skin together until we’re disconnected, and then swoop our pinkies in a dance only we know.

  This is the handshake I made up with her in middle school when I was just trying to touch her in any way I could as a horny thirteen-year-old boy. We finish off with a high five, and Savannah is trying to bite back the smile forming on her lips.

  “That seal it?” I ask, staring openly at her beauty.

  She blinks like a deer in headlights. “Yeah.”

  I can’t leave it without putting my real two cents in.

  “There are a lot of people here that still love you. You left them behind, too. This is the last thing tying you to Hale, and you have no qualms about dumping it off your plate. You’re not the girl I fell in love with.”

  Waiting a beat, baiting her, I stare intensely at Savannah. I just dropped the L word, and she’s sitting there chewing it over.

  But she’s taking too long, this new version of her doesn’t speak freely or come out with her honest thoughts. I don’t like that, not one bit.

  So I leave, waiting for her in the truck until she quietly climbs in a few minutes later.

  The drive back to her sister’s house is silent.

  9

  Savannah

  “Yes, Donna, I promise. I’ll have the scripts to you in a month, I just won’t be in New York to go over the lines with you each week.”

  The showrunner on the other end says something about communication, about collaboration.

  “Come on, have you ever known me to miss a deadline? Have I ever not delivered the wow factor to you?” I try to put so much confidence in my voice that she can’t say no.

  Donna sighs loudly, but then relents, telling me I have three days to show her the first scenes. After promising I’ll email them, I hang up with her and lean my head back against Adeline’s couch.

  Jesus, I can’t believe I agreed to being stuck down here for a month. My clothes are already sticking to me, and it’s only March. Plus, now I’ll have to find time to work in this prison, with three kids around and no Starbucks in sight.

  I’ve been working as the head writer on the biggest television drama for almost three years now. After working my way up in the industry, proving myself on guest writing roles or doing scenes for the measliest of commercials, I’d finally scored my big gig after Donna, the creator of Love General, watched one of my episodes on an army romantic comedy type show on network cable.

  She’d loved the storyline, sought me out, and asked me to come write one episode of her wildly popular medical drama in a prime time slot on Thursday nights. I’d impressed her with that first script, and then just kept on doing so episode after episode. Now, we had a wonderful working relationship, but that would be hard to maintain now that I was stuck in the boondocks for a month, fixing up a house my ex-boyfriend should have sold a decade ago.

  Being a writer did give me the freedom of working off location, though, so thankfully, I could still do what I loved while I tried to rectify this situation. And I did love it.

  I’ve been writing since I was a little girl sitting in my bedroom in this town. Stories, so many stories, I always had one in my head. I’d narrate my life as I was doing it, creating scenarios for myself even if it was just getting off the bus after school. After my whole life fell apart and I made a break for it, I headed for New York, thinking I could live my dream. Once, when I was fourteen, I’d heard that writing TV shows was a job, and I’d been set on it since.

  Little did I know, I’d nearly starve and nearly become homeless those first few years. I was a professional waitress, scribbling on notepads during my breaks and typing into the midnight hours to make my dream come true. I lived in a basement apartment with two roommates and slept on a futon in the living room. My only meals were peanut butter and bread, or what I could scrounge for free at my restaurant jobs.

  Eventually, I made it, but not without years of strife. No one back here knew how hard it had been for me, but I did it all on my own, a fact I am proud of.

  Now, I am the top writer on everyone’s favorite doctor romance drama, and I love absolutely everything about it. It pains me that I’ll be away from my cast and crew, that I won’t feel the energy on set to get inspired. But this is more important right now.

  I can’t believe Jason actually agreed, via handshake, to buy me out if I help fix the house up. I still feel like it’s a trick, but handshake trumps all, so if he doesn’t hold to his word, there will be hell to pay. Not that I know anything about fixing up a house, but I’ll do just about anything to clear my credit and get back to Perry and our impending apartment sale right about now.

  Just as I’m about to get up, to see who I could call to get my own place in this town, the front door swing opens.

  And in walks my entire family.

  Adeline, Brad, and the kids are followed by a tornado of four other screaming children, Noah and his girlfriend, Hope, and bringing up the rear is Lorelei. I know enough about my siblings to know that Noah and Hope will never get married, because they don’t care about it even if they have kids together. And Lorelei’s husband, Jameson, is at an army base somewhere in California for the next few months.

  There is so much noise and chaos, I don’t know where to look first. The kids swarm the house, pulling snacks off the shelves and running for toys, the backyard, and everything in between. Noah and Adeline are loudly discussing the merits of buying a new or used car, Lorelei is trying to quiet a very small baby in her arms, and Hope is carrying three pizzas before setting them down on the counter.

  “Oh, Sav” Hope exclaims, jumping as if she’s seen a ghost.

  I hesitate to get up, because now they’re all staring at me. “Uh, hi.”

  “Adeline told us you were here, but I thought she was joking.” Lorelei looks me up and down, the baby now falling asleep on her shoulder.

  Lorelei and I are closest in age of all the siblings, but she’s always been the cold one of us. A perpetually forgotten middle child, or so she dramatized herself as, Lori was always distant and unloving. It surprises me that she’s had three children, and to see her with a baby is an odd sight.

  “Nope, here I am. I didn’t realize you were all coming by.”

  When I say this, Adeline turns away, and I know she set this up without telling me. I didn’t want some kind of family reunion; it was awkward enough being here in her house.

  “Well, we haven’t seen you in forever. How are you, sis?” Noah comes over, grabbing me in a bear hug.

  He looks so much like our dad that I feel an overwhelming sense of emotion and nostalgia. Growing up, he essentially was my dad. Our father passed when I was twelve, and it rocked our family. Our mother was left with four children on her own, and we all grieved differently for a parent we’d never see again.

  Maybe that’s when the cracks started. Clearly, they’ve all mended theirs, becoming this solid extended family. I envy it, how close they are with each other.

  “I’m fine. I’ll just uh, be in the guest room.” I point to the hallway.

  “No, no, I got more than enough pizza,” Hope pipes up, always the peacemaker. “Come on, let’s sit and eat.”

  Well, this couldn’t be any more awkward. I feel like they’re strangers, when we’re all related by blood. I want to resist, but Adeline gives me this pleading look, so I walk over to the counter and wait to be given a plate so that I can serve myself p
izza.

  When we’re all seated at the table, with the kids sitting on the living room floor all loudly talking over one another, Hope clears her throat.

  “It’s really nice to see you, Savvy. I just have to say, I watch every episode of Love General, and I think you’re just so talented.” She dazzles me with a smile.

  Noah’s longtime girlfriend has basically been another sister to me growing up and has always been bright and warm.

  “Thanks, Hope. I love my job,” I say simply, not sure how to do this.

  “Addy didn’t tell us why you’re back in town. So why is that?” Lori looks to me as she bites off a piece of pepperoni, the baby snoozing in her lap.

  No subtlety to be found there. “I’m trying to buy an apartment with my boyfriend in the city, and apparently still own that little house out on the lake. So I have to sell it before my credit score can clear for the sale.”

  Adeline snorts. “We all told you back then that investing in that craphole was a bad idea.”

  Hope giggles and covers Noah’s hand where it lies on the table. “But it was so romantic.”

  “A boyfriend, huh? Why didn’t he come with you?” Lori asks.

  I stare at my pizza, not even hungry. It’s hilarious how fast you can feel like the baby sister, even as an almost thirty-year-old, with all of your older siblings shooting questions at you.

  “Perry is very busy, he works on Wall Street and just … his job is very demanding.”

  And I didn’t know how to, or didn’t want to, introduce him to the world I grew up in. I see that unsaid answer all over their faces.

  “Have you been out to see Mom?” Noah asks.

  My sisters must have put him up to this, because they’d never be brave enough to ask. The table grows silent, the sorest of subjects causing my heart to fracture.

  “No.” I glower at him.

  I have no intention of going out there to see her. There was a reason I hadn’t been back to Hale in ten years.