by JL Mac
Me: After seeing you tonight with your perfect date then subsequently sobbing until my false eyelashes came unglued? Crying, by Roy Orbison. Of course. I miss you. I miss us. I think I always will.
I tap the text out carefully, slowly, and stare at it with my thumb hovering over the send button. Fresh tears tingle behind my eyes as the final depressingly relatable notes of the song ring out then I shift my finger to the backspace button. I delete each letter and space one by one and close the text then delete the thread and block his phone number. Communicating with him is the quickest way to rehash painful history then relapse on the drug that is us. I don’t think either of us would survive yet another trip down memory lane unscathed. We were lucky to make it through last time.
You call this making it through, Negativity scoffs. I’d hate to see my idea of not making it through.
Chapter 30
Sylas
Months.
It took me months, damn near a year to get Rae out of my head. I’ve spent the last eleven months alternating between burying myself under a mountain of work and getting drunk enough to wonder if I have developed a new drinking problem. I haven’t developed a drinking problem but after she ghosted on me again, I had developed a Rae problem. Again. I spent months distracting myself from my broken heart and dashed dreams. I’ve tried to date here and there hoping one woman could water down the memory of the other. It hasn’t worked. I tried everything I could think of before finally giving in to the hurt I felt. I surrendered to it and allowed myself to grieve the loss of the future I had envisioned for myself. I may be the fool who lost big but at least I sat down at the table and played a hand. It was that knowledge that was some consolation. So I let myself be hurt, and it was working. I was succeeding. Slow and steady wins the race and all that.
I wasn’t waking up every day instantly pissed off that I was reliving the same hurt from over a decade ago. I wasn’t feeling as though I had a sign on my forehead that read, “Dumbass”. I wasn’t feeling as though all the women in town were rolling out their bottom lip to pout and pity me when I went to the grocery store or just about anywhere in town.
Though I knew I’d never be able to forget Rae, I was content with at least not thinking exclusively about Rae.
I was on the road to recovering from Rae.
Then the trip to DC came around. I felt in my gut that there was a slim possibility she’d be there but I had dismissed it. Why would Rae go to a military event where I would be in attendance? She obviously wants zero to do with me and given the manner in which we always seem to part ways, I assumed she’d avoid me.
Miscalculation on my part.
I was speaking to a few people, making some great connections that will undoubtedly benefit BCF down the line when I felt those little hairs on the back of my neck rise. I could feel her sapphire eyes before I had even turned around to confirm it. She’d stood there staring as though she’d seen a ghost and yeah I bet she felt like she had. She assumed she’d left me in her dust in Palmetto Grove, that she’d never be confronted with my face again. Ha! She thought wrong. I’ll admit, while I wasn’t happy to be reminded of the woman that ripped my heart out no fewer than three times, it was worth it to see her face pale and her eyes go wide.
I’d wanted to look her squarely in the eyes to prove to her and maybe more importantly to myself that I was no longer under her spell, that I was moving on. But when I approached her something struck me as being off. Now, I am well aware that more than once I have guessed incorrectly when it came to all things Raegan Potter but in my bones, I knew she was not the woman I had a two week rendezvous with almost a year prior. To her credit, she didn’t show an ounce of jealousy over Christine, which I had expected and even hoped for but when the moment came—nada! What I had not expected was the sight of a slightly thinner, sadder looking Rae, a more reserved Rae. That took me by surprise. Where had the frost queen gone?
My mind began running away with me almost immediately and it only spun more and more out of control as the night went on. Thus, the dumbass move of texting her late that night. She hadn’t answered, but the text said it was delivered and read. She just chose to ignore me.
Well, that was more like it.
Right back to scraping me off like the wad of bubblegum under her stilettos. I tried to convince myself that was the evidence I was looking for that proved Rae was just surprised by seeing me but that she most definitely was the same unapologetic, man-eater I asked to marry me at Cattail Parish Fair. Heartless, that woman.
“So why in fuck am I going to her momma’s house?” I growl under my breath as I take my time driving across town. By the time I pull up to the house and get out of my truck, Rae’s momma has already come outside on the porch with two glasses of what looks like iced tea. I sigh heavily and trudge across the grass and up the steps. I flop heavily down in one of the large wicker chairs, taking the tea Pam holds out toward me.
“Well, it took you long enough,” Rae’s momma smiles, but it looks pretty damn depressing like the doctor that has to break the bad news. I just stare at her and shake my head not sure I want at all to know where this is headed but knowing I’m along for the ride, regardless.
I curl my fingers around my beer and take a long pull trying to savor the taste of it on my tongue but everything tastes like a wad of cotton balls.
“So let me get this straight,” Chick says shaking his head with his brows scrunch up. “Her momma only told you that Rae has been through some big terrible mystery event and that’s what’s made her the way she is but didn’t spill the details?”
“Basically. Said it wasn’t her story to tell. Said she had hoped that Rae would talk to me about it one day so we could at least be friends,” I mimic Pam’s voice on the last part, making Chick chuckle.
“Do you think anyone else knows?”
“Assuming I believe what she said? Maybe. I don’t know and I’m leaning toward not caring.” I shrug. “I’m about bone tired of chasing after Rae, waiting on Rae, trying to understand Rae. If she had some big secret she felt was worth tellin’ me, she would have done it.”
“What’re you gonna do now?”
“Nothin’. Going to keep moving on with my life, leaving everything pertaining to Raegan in my past where it clearly belongs,” I say gripping the neck of my beer bottle a little too hard.
“If you say so,” Chick says with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Asshole.
Chapter 31
Raegan
“Hey Momma,” I greet with my cellphone pinned between my shoulder and cheek while holding a piping hot cup of coffee in one hand and holding my wallet in the other.
“Hey sweetheart. You busy?”
“Not at all,” I lie shuffling my way through the busy coffee shop. “What are you and Daddy up to?”
“Not a lot, really. Audrey and me have been elbow deep in baby shower decorations for Ellie. Lord have mercy that girl has a guest list like you can’t read about,” she laughs.
“That many, huh?” I laugh.
“More!” she scoffs. “This co-ed baby shower thing is for the birds. Whatever happened to this sort of thing being just for a few women? Now it means inviting the whole neighborhood,” she laughs, but it comes out as part groan. Her reminding me it’s a co-ed party only leads me to assume that Sy will be there, something I both look forward to and shrink from.
I still can’t believe Ellie is having a baby, my first niece or nephew. I begged her to let me know the gender in advance but she refused, adamant that she and Doug want it to be a total surprise. I plan to be there for the birth as long as things go according to plan and I already have my “I’m The Aunt” T-shirt that I’ve already washed and pressed and hung in my closet, ready to wear. Ellie’s baby has given me something exciting to look forward to, something to be hopeful for. Her child is a fresh start for me, a new relationship to cultivate, a new person to love to pieces and I plan to do just that. I may not have a husband or a baby on the way like Ellie doe
s but I can be stupid-happy for her and share that excitement all the same.
“But on that topic, did you ever decide if you are for sure going to be able to come down or you wanna just wait until the big day?” Her voice is gentle and soothing in that way that way that only mom’s can accomplish.
“I’ll be there for both,” I sigh knowing that my therapist was right when she made the case for me returning home for the baby shower. Test the waters, focus on how excited you are to be an aunt, she’d said. Sink or swim I suppose. This would be so much easier if I wasn’t painfully alone. My phone buzzes against my cheek and I take a peek at it. Bethany. I smile as a new idea coalesces. Doing a U-turn to go right back into the coffee shop I decide to ask Bethany for a favor. She left Cline’s campaign to join me on Sweeney’s. What are the odds she’d shoot me down now? “I’ll text you my itinerary, Momma.” I smirk.
“Good morning Bethany,” I greet as I deposit the paper cup of coffee on her desk. Bethany’s eyes bug out and she turns her head slightly, her wary eyes cut my direction the doubt on her face is easy to spot.
“My god, it’s not poison Bethany. Coffee, that’s all.”
“Am I fired?” she wheezes.
“What? No!”
“Is this a parting gift thing? Why else would you give me coffee? You never give me anything,” she rattles on, her voice raising a full octave.
“Would you calm down, please,” I snap to get her attention. “I am just trying—to be… nicer to people around me.” I shrug. “That and I was hoping I could ask a favor of you,” I say a little shyly.
“Oh.” Bethany slides her coffee closer to her and sniffs it.
“Oh my god,” I groan, rolling my eyes.
“Just kidding, just kidding,” she laughs raising her hands in surrender. “So what’s the favor?” She takes a tentative sip of the overpriced latte.
“I have to go back to Palmetto Grove for my sister’s baby shower and I don’t want to go alone. Considering—”
“Considering you may see Mr. Hot Boxer Shorts?”
“Right.” I nod.
“And you want a wingman?” She grins.
“Of sorts,” I say slowly, nodding.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll go. Does Hot Boxer Shorts have any friends though?” She wags her eyebrows and suddenly a vision of Chick enters my mind and I purse my lips.
“Oh hell,” I sigh heading toward my office.
“He does, doesn’t he? Ha!” Bethany shouts at my back then dissolves into a fit of laughter. The last thing I need to make this awkward situation worse is Chick and Bethany making things messier.
When I took Sweeney up on her offer to lead her campaign, I had anticipated this tremendous sense of accomplishment. I had assumed that coming into my new office would feel like taking the next big step in my career but seven months into this new position, I have felt none of that. Yes, sure, I’m still just as good at my job as I ever was, but the shine has worn off. The thrill of it has turned to dust. I was thinking that the lull in excitement was due to the presidential election being so far off still but as our campaign has ramped up over the last three months, my enthusiasm has waned.
With my trip home coming up my mind has been wondering how I’ll feel returning to DC a second time. When I returned home after my trip for Ellie’s wedding I had all but felt like a stranger in my own apartment. I didn’t feel at home. I didn’t feel content. I didn’t get that giddy feeling when going to the office, the feeling of anticipation when Sweeney had to feed the camera lens the lines I meticulously formulated for her. No real buzz when opposition flubbed to the media or was fact-checked to oblivion. Things just sort of became numb, empty, and void. Kind of like my heart.
I don’t know what any of this means for my future or me. I am afraid to even think on it much because my career has always been my prized possession but I make a mental note to speak with Dr. Banker about it this afternoon at my appointment and ask momma for her thoughts when I check in with her tonight.
Chapter 32
Raegan
“Thirty-two weeks! Eight to go,” Ellie sighs contentedly with her hands smoothing over her rounded belly.
I click my tongue and pout, feeling emotional. “Ugh, I can’t believe it. You’re so beautiful, El. I can’t wait,” I whisper in her ear with my arms around her shoulders.
“Sure you don’t want to find out the gender?” I smile and lift my brows hopefully.
“No,” she laughs. “I’m eager to find out too, but I’ve come this far, I can wait a while longer.”
“Okay,” I huff, feigning disappointment.
“I’m scared of delivery,” she confesses in a small voice. I hold myself back from her and search her face. She is wearing the same expression she did when she was little and would crawl into my bed on nights when the wind howled through the big oak tree in the front yard.
“What are you scared of?”
“I just want the baby to be healthy and have a smooth delivery but I won’t lie, the idea of pain coming scares me. I’ve always been a big sissy,” she laughs.
“I hear the drugs are good though,” a voice says from behind us. I swallow hard and turn to face him.
“Hey Sy,” Ellie says, stepping to him for a hug. He wraps his arms around her but keeps his eyes on me from over the top of her head. “I think the baby is hungry,” Ellie announces pointing at her belly where little limbs seem to be trying to make an escape from inside.
“That’s the most fascinating and yet creepy thing I’ve ever seen.” I say pressing my palm to her stomach to feel all the movement going on inside. Ellie laughs making her belly shake.
“I’m gonna go get a snack.” Ellie excuses herself then goes in the direction of the backyard where all the food and tables are set out for the baby shower today.
“Hi,” I say feeling at a loss just looking at him.
“Hey,” he says, taking a step closer to me. His eyes are crinkled at the edges like he is working at figuring something out and it makes the tiny hairs on my arms stand on end.
“What?” I whisper.
“Nothin’ Rae,” he says low then steps around me and joins the rest of the party in the backyard. I sag against the wall in the hall and will my heart to slow its pace.
Three hours later, I find myself cleaning up the mess from the party. Blue and pink tissue paper and decorations are strung all over Momma and Daddy’s backyard. Everyone has taken cake to go and Ellie is having a nap while Doug and Dad are sipping something strong on the back porch, no doubt having a moment. I bet my dad is imparting Doug with fatherly wisdom before he too becomes a dad. I pause wadding up a plastic tablecloth and try to picture myself in Ellie’s shoes. Excited for a baby to come, my husband getting last minute wisdom and a pep talk from Daddy. No matter how I try to imagine it, the image I attempt to summon in my mind, doesn’t come. I take a deep breath staring at my feet then go on cleaning up the mess.
“Want some help?” Sy says from behind me. I turn to glance at him but pull my eyes away, focusing on what I’m doing instead of gawking at the man that haunts my dreams.
“Sure.”
“Figured Bethany would help but uh…” Sy trails off motioning his chin to where Bethany and Chick are sitting at a table drinking spiked punch.
I groan and get back to clearing up the mess and breaking down folding tables as I go. By the time we have cleared the yard of all traces of blue and pink, Sy and I are having an easy conversation about my work on the campaign, his work with BCF, and all the things people chat about when they’re catching up. A massive part of me is screaming for me to ask about Christine, the leggy blonde that had been with him at the gala in DC several weeks ago but my pride refuses. Stupid pride. Is it ever useful?
“So Christine—was that her name?”
“Oh, yeah Christine,” he nods going to the cooler on the porch. He takes two beers out and comes to sit beside me on the swing. Sy twists the cap off a beer and hands it to me then opens his. I sip m
y beer and watch Sy take a long gulp of his, in no rush at all to elaborate on who she is to him.
“When I relieved Gene of his duties with BCF I found Christine. She took his place. She’s been great and we’ve been able to really stretch our budget since we brought her on.”
“Oh, I see. So she’s the accountant,” I say without thinking about just exactly how relieved I sound.
“You’re jealous,” he says to the horizon as he takes another long gulp of beer. I snap my head his way and splutter, unsure that I can or even want to deny it.
Fuck. What am I doing? I didn’t plan any of this.
“Shut up,” I mutter petulantly then drink down half my beer in one go. “It’s just… habit,” I explain.
“Right.” Sy faces me, cocking his head while looking at me with that mind reader expression he has. He reaches up and tucks my hair behind my ear and my cheeks burn. Sy finishes his beer and gets to his feet. Fishing his keys from his pocket, he says, “Catch ya later, Rae.”
“Okay,” I murmur. Sy tosses his beer bottle in the garbage can by the garage then leaves. I don’t know how long I sit there alone before Momma appears from inside the house, the dishtowel still slung over her shoulder.
“That went all right, didn’t it? Fairly painless,” she coaxes.
“Yes Momma. Not bad at all. It was great talking to him like we used to. I’ve missed my friend,” I reply.
“So why do you look like you dropped your ice cream cone in the dirt?”
“I don’t know,” I grumble.
“Is it possible you don’t just want to be friends with Sy?”
“I think—I know I’ll always want Sylas, Momma. But wanting and having are two different things. He’d feel guilty if he knew the truth and I don’t want to hurt him.”
“So you break his heart to keep from breaking his heart?”
