Living With Regret

by Lisa De Jong

  “Hi,” I say, trying to break some of the tension. Maybe it will never break, but I might crack it.

  “Hi,” she says back, resting one hand on her stomach.

  “I came by to give you this.” I hold out the manila envelope. She carefully pulls it from between my fingers, eyeing it suspiciously. Before we drove here, I’d decided to take the high road. I’m not going to bring up everything that went wrong, because it’s not going to make this right. “I think they might be of more use to you than they are to me,” I add.

  “What is it?” she asks, running her fingertips along the top.

  “You can open it.” The way she looks at me, you would think I just placed fire in her hands. “It’s nothing bad. I promise.”

  Biting my lower lip, I watch her unclasp it and pull the photographs out. She thumbs through the first few, her eyes welling with unshed tears. “Why are you giving these to me? Don’t you want to keep them?”

  My emotions boil over. I was going to try to be strong, to hold them in, but that’s not possible. Not after everything that’s happened the last several months. There were days I didn’t think I’d be able to move on, days I didn’t want to move on, but I am. Being able to do this proves how much I’ve grown up.

  “I kept the ones of us, but I thought you should have these … for the baby. He or she should know who their father was. They should see his smile, because it’s unforgettable. I know I’ll never forget it.”

  Tears slip down her cheeks, but she quickly wipes them away as she looks through photo after photo of Cory throughout high school. In some he’s happy, smiling, and in others, he’s thoughtful, pensive. It’s how I’d want him remembered. “I can’t believe you’re doing this … after everything.”

  “Whatever happened between us, it’s not anyone else’s fault,” I cry, looking at her swollen stomach.

  “I wish I could go back. I’m so sorry, Rachel. I was young and—”

  “I’ll never forget what happened, but I forgive you. A couple weeks ago, I never thought I’d be able to, but I have to. There’s no way to move forward if I’m holding onto this,” I say. It’s the truth. She was a huge part of my life for so long, and it’s impossible to hate her no matter how much she hurt me.

  She just stares at me, so I continue, “We can’t ever go back to what we were, or even a semblance of it, but I needed you to know I’m not angry. Not anymore.”

  She nods, slipping the photos back into the envelope. “That’s all I ever hoped for … your forgiveness.”

  “Anyway, I need to get going. Someone’s waiting for me.” I motion toward Sam’s Camaro parked on the street.

  “Again, thank you for this,” she says, waving the envelope. “For everything.”

  “Take care, Madison.” Without another word, I walk back toward the car, feeling lighter than I have in months. Everything is clearer to me now, and the best part of that picture sits before me. He’s a vision in his gray beanie, blond hair sticking out from underneath, and his signature black leather jacket. No words can describe how much I love this guy.

  I open the passenger door, sliding into the leather seat. “How did it go?” he asks, before I even have an opportunity to shut the door.

  “Good. I’m just glad it’s over with, you know?”

  “I’m proud of you. I don’t think I could have done that,” he says, gently squeezing my knee.

  “The most difficult things we do in life can be the most gratifying.”

  “Waiting for you all these years was the most painful, frustrating thing in my life, but what I have now makes it worth it.”

  The Camaro pulls up next to the large shop where Sam lives and works. I’ve been spending more nights here than at my own house, but being with Sam makes me feel at home. “Do you want me to cook you dinner?” he asks.

  My lips turn up. “Depends. I’m kind of partial to your veggie pizza ordering.”

  He leans over the console, placing a feather-soft kiss on my cheek. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

  I think God created the stars to make believers out of all of us. But how brightly they shine … that’s up to us.

  Three and a half years later…

  THE THING ABOUT SMALL towns is there's always going to be something you miss about them, even if you convince yourself you want to disappear to a bigger place. During the last three years, I've spent most months in the city, only coming home for the warm summer months. I always looked forward to the last day of school, when I’d get to spend some time in the place I love. And this time, I finally graduated, which means this move is permanent.

  I majored in design, and once I showed Ms. Peters the work I’d done, she offered me a full-time job. For now, I’ll still be doing deliveries, but I’ll also get to help with weddings and special events, which is exciting to me. It’s kind of funny how tragedy handed me a career path. Design was the last thing on my mind my first year of college.

  I’ve seen Madison around town a couple times when I’ve been back. We exchanged a simple hello; it’s all we can do after everything that happened between us.

  The first time I saw her son, Peyton, my heart dropped from my chest. He looks just like Cory, same dimples and thick, wavy hair. He smiled at me once while his mom held him in her arms; my eyes instantly clouded over as I smiled back. They seem happy enough … I think we’ve all grown up and moved on.

  As I put the last of my things away in my room, that familiar engine becomes louder as it nears my house. I haven't seen Sam in two weeks, which is an eternity for us. When I decided to go back to school after taking a year off, Sam was the one thing that held me back. He didn't ask me to stay. In fact, he gave me a gentle push. Not because he wanted me to leave, but because he loved me enough to let me go.

  I run down the stairs and step out onto the front porch. We’ve been talking about this day for months. The day our weekend and summer relationship would finally end … a huge relief for both of us.

  His motorcycle comes to a stop in front of the old wooden porch stairs, his feet planted firmly on the ground. He looks every bit a movie star in his faded, ripped jeans, black T-shirt, and motorcycle boots. Sometimes when I look at him, I can’t believe he belongs to me.

  I take a few steps to the edge of the porch. We're in a tense stare down, my eyes raking him in, his eyes drinking me in. After all these years, I still get that sensation every time I see him—the take-my-breath-away, he-can't-really-be-mine feeling. Even if it begins to fade or dim, he'll still be my forever guy.

  I take one step down as he lowers the kickstand. With the second step, he comes off the bike. His fingers flex. I know he’s aching to touch me. And with the third step, he stands right in front of me. He's several inches taller, but with me on the step, we're nose to nose, lips perfectly aligned. If I leaned forward just a little bit, the kiss I've been craving for days would be mine.

  “Did you miss me?” he asks, running his fingertips up my bare arms.

  Closing my eyes, I lean back, letting my long hair cascade down my back. “Maybe just a little bit.”

  “Just a little?” His mouth comes down on the base of my neck. It’s soft and tender ... making me hungry for more. “That should do then,” he murmurs against my skin.

  “Truth?” I ask, staring up into his eyes.

  He nods, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. If my mom weren’t home right now, I swear to God I’d bring him upstairs. This thing he’s doing isn’t fair.

  “I’ve been counting down since I last saw you twelve days ago, and if I ever have to go that long again, I think I’ll go crazy.”

  He laughs, gripping my hips to pull me closer. “If you leave me again for twelve days … actually, no, that’s never going to happen.”

  The sun is starting to set in the background as he leans in to kiss me. He caresses my lower lip between his, then does the same to the top. Even though he hasn’t seen me in days, his movements are controlled, savoring my mouth. He does it slowly, t
he same way he always makes love to me when we haven’t seen each other in a while. His tongue slips through my lips as his hands run up and down the length of my spine. I feel every part of him against me, and it makes me wet between my legs. It’s been so long.

  He pulls back before things go too far, resting his forehead against mine. “We’ll finish that later.”

  “Can’t we go to your place now?” I pout, doing my best to sway him.

  He groans, putting a couple inches between our bodies. “Don’t tempt me. I have something I want to give you before we do anything else.”

  I lean against his chest, staring up into his eyes. “You didn’t need to get me anything.”

  “Trust me, baby, I think you’ll like this one,” he says, lifting me off the step. Sam and I have never been big on gifts. That’s not what our relationship is about.

  I follow closely behind him, and when we reach his bike, I allow him to slip his helmet on me. We’ve been on this thing hundreds of times since that first day. I think I love it just as much as he does.

  “Ready?” Sam asks after we assume our usual positions.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I reply, tightly wrapping my arms around him. I probably don’t need to hold on quite like this, but it’s one of the reasons I enjoy these rides.

  It’s late May and the air is humid, but as the motorcycle heads out, the breeze from speeding down the highway cools my exposed skin. It’s the most refreshing thing in the whole world—the two of us out here. Sometime this summer, we’re planning to take a week and travel across a few states. I’m looking forward to it.

  I’m expecting us to start toward the lake or maybe even just ride through a few small towns until we’re ready to turn back, but he surprises me by turning onto the narrow dirt road that leads to the fields. He stops, smack dab in the middle of the grass, and we just sit there for a while, taking in the view.

  “We could have walked, you know.”

  He looks back, a huge grin on his face. “Hop off.”

  I jump off and pull the helmet from my head, smoothing out my hair. He climbs off and puts the kickstand down, then grabs my hand in his. “Come with me.”

  I want to ask him what the surprise is, but then it really wouldn’t be a surprise at all. Besides, knowing Sam, he’s not going to tell me until he’s ready anyway. It’s part of what I love about him—his unpredictability.

  The sun has almost completely disappeared in the horizon; only an orange glow remains. It’s a beautiful, breathtaking sight, especially when you get to share it with someone who means so much to you.

  As we come to the line of trees that border one side of the creek, I spot Sam’s tent and a single lawn chair set up by the unlit fire pit. “Are we camping?” I ask, tugging on his arm.

  “Just follow me.” He pulls me along, leading us closer to the campsite. We spent many summer nights out here enjoying the sounds of the crickets and the light of the fireflies. I’m convinced this is what heaven would look like.

  “Take a seat,” he says once we’re standing next to the chair.

  “Okay.” My voice is quiet, feeling a bunch of crazy butterflies working overtime in my stomach. This isn’t quite like the other times he’s brought me out here … he doesn’t seem like himself.

  I watch quietly as he lights a fire, standing back to admire his handiwork. One might argue that it’s a little too warm out here for this, but the sight of the bright flame and the crackling sounds are worth it.

  “Rachel?”

  “Yeah?” I ask, watching him sway over to me. He truly is the brightest star in my sky.

  He kneels on one knee in front of me, gently squeezing my thighs. My heart jumps in my chest. I’ve seen this in the movies dozens of times but never thought much about it happening to me. He reaches behind his back, pulling out a rolled up piece of paper … not quite what I was expecting. “What would you say if I told you these fields are ours?”

  “I know they’re ours.”

  His head tilts, a nervous smile playing on his face. “I mean really ours. As in, I bought this land.” He unrolls the paper, showing me the deed for this very piece of land, his name proudly displayed across the top.

  My mouth falls open. This place signifies happiness. It’s the first place I met Sam, and it played a big part in reigniting our friendship. It’s a symbol of us. The glue that held us together and keeps us together.

  “You’re not kidding?” I ask, leaning closer to him.

  “I want to build a house out here with you,” he says, cupping my face in his hands. “And after that, when there’s a house for us to call home, I’m going to marry you and make babies. Lots of star-gazing, firefly-catching babies.” He kisses me before resting his forehead on mine. “Will you spend the rest of your life out in these fields with me? We may never be rich, baby, but I promise you, I’ll try my best to be everything you ever need.”

  A single tear runs down my cheek. Living out in the middle of nowhere might not be a dream for many people, but to me, it’s what life is all about. “Sam, if it meant being with you always, I’d sleep in that tent every night.”

  The pad of his thumb traces my lower lip. “There aren’t many girls who would say that.”

  I kiss his thumb, letting my lips linger there. “There aren’t any other girls who get to spend the rest of their lives with Sam Shea.”

  “Stand up,” he demands.

  I don’t even ask why. After everything he just said to me, my heart and mind are a big pile of mush. When I’m up, his arm wraps around my waist and draws me into him. He sits back in the chair, and I have nowhere to go besides his lap. Not that I’m going to complain. “That’s better,” he says, kissing the back of my shoulder.

  My head rests back against his strong shoulder. “Is there a reason why there’s only one chair?”

  “Maybe.” I hear the smile in his voice. His arms hold me a little tighter.

  We sit in silence, each looking up at the bright stars. This moment reminds me of so many others.

  “We could put a skylight in our bedroom,” he says.

  “Why?”

  “So we can look at the stars whenever we want.”

  Turning my head, I kiss the side of his jaw. “I’d like that.”

  “What about babies?” he asks, trailing his lips up my neck.

  I close my eyes, relishing in his touch. I swear if we don’t find a bed soon, I’m going to strip him naked right here. “What about them?”

  “How many?” Another kiss. I’m melting.

  I moan as his fingers move their way up my bare thigh. This sundress was the best idea I’ve ever had. “Two, maybe three.”

  Another kiss. “At least two,” he agrees. “What about a dog?”

  My legs spread, and his finger slips underneath my panties. “Yes.”

  He traces the top of my thighs, exploring everywhere except where I really need him to. “Sam,” I whimper.

  “Hmm?” He’s smiling … I hear it.

  “Bed. Now.”

  He laughs, lifting us both from the chair. Placing me on my feet, he guides me to the tent, carefully pulling back the door. I waste no time climbing inside, waiting for him on the air mattress.

  I watch as he crawls inside and quickly zips up the door. He comes to me, like a tiger after his prey, eyes never leaving me. With his body over mine, he leans in to kiss me. “I love you,” he whispers.

  “I love you, too.”

  FIRST, AND FOREMOST, I have to thank my husband and kids for being so patient with me when I need my time with my imaginary friends. Your continued support is what allows me to do what I do.

  I’d also like to thank my family and friends who have been more than understanding and supportive. I couldn’t have done it without you.

  To my beta readers, Autumn, Melissa, Bridget, Jennifer, Toski, Ashley, Lisa, Elizabeth, Michelle, and Laura. You feedback helped immensely on this one, and Thank You doesn’t seem like enough.

  Jessica,
you are a rock star. You’ve helped me so much with my writing and became a great friend in the process. Your turn is coming.

  To my editor, Madison, thank you for putting up with me, even when I want to use clichés and such. I promise to cause those elusive butterflies with my next project.

  To my agent, Jill, without your guidance, Drake and Emery would not exist. Thank you for pushing me to do more.

  And last, but not least, to the readers and bloggers who have supported my work, THANK YOU! I never thought I’d be where I am today, and I owe it to you.