The Truth About Us

by Megan D. Martin

  It was good I didn’t know it then, how hard the future would be, and how the choices I made would shape everything in my life. That would have been too much to handle, even for me.

  I made my way slowly through the booths at the large two-story consignment shop in search of some new wall art for Dad’s house. I’d been living there for a little over six months now and had yet to really attempt decorating and making it my own. Dad had never been much for frilly or extra things, so the walls had remained bare for the majority of my lifetime, outside of one large canvas picture of him and me from when I was two. It was from a picture session at the local Sears. My mother had hung it before she left, he claimed, along with a bunch of other pictures that included all three of us. The one of my dad and me was the only one she wasn’t in, which was why it remained the only one hanging in the house.

  I didn’t plan to move it, but I wanted to add to the plain white walls. I wanted to give it color and magic, so when I looked around I was surrounded by warmth, the kind Dad had always made me feel with his presence. The white walls were lonely, empty. I didn’t like that, though I should have been used to loneliness by now.

  I stopped at a booth along the far back wall, an array of paintings were leaned against the wall on the floor, almost haphazardly. It wasn’t those that caught my eye. No, it was the painting that hung above them, large and framed in an old, gold-toned frame. A dragon with blue-gray scales soared across a fiery sky over a city in wreckage. The dragon peered out of the frame with red eyes, darker, deeper than the sky that surrounded it. A painting like this wouldn’t have drawn my attention had it not been for Tyler’s tattoo, the one that looked like me on his shoulder and bicep. I reached out, as if unable to stop myself, and brushed my fingers against the deep red of the eyes.

  I hadn’t seen Tyler, or even heard from him, since that night when all the ugly truths had been laid on the table. I’d tried to contact him over and over for weeks, months. He never responded. There had been a small part of me, especially in the beginning, that thought he may be able to forgive me for the things I had done, since, after all, I had done them for him. But I supposed he didn’t really see it that way. I stopped trying to reach out a few months ago. But in the end, I’d gotten my wish, hadn’t I? Nusom Automotive was still incredibly successful, taking the top spot as best automotive shop in the city. Things were going well for Tyler.

  “Excuse me, ma’am, but this painting is sold.” I blinked at the middle-aged man who had stepped into the booth with me. He moved between myself and the painting, taking it down from the wall. “Are you planning to take it home today, sir?” The man directed his words to a person behind me.

  “Yes.”

  I turned at the sound of his voice. Tyler stood just behind me, the new owner of the dragon painting. I took him in like a breath of fresh air. He looked different, the scruff on his cheeks had grown out into a short, well-kept beard. His hair was shorter than it was a year ago. A leather jacket covered his shoulders. We stood there like that for I didn’t know how long, just staring. What words could be spoken in a moment like this?

  “Hi Rowan,” he said eventually, putting his hands into his jacket pockets.

  “Hi.” My voice sounded squeaky, pathetic.

  “I’m just buying this painting.” He motioned to the man holding the dragon artwork.

  “I’ll just put this down at the register for you, sir. Feel free to checkout whenever you’re ready.” Then the man was gone with the painting, leaving Tyler and I alone. There was hardly anyone else in the shop, especially up here on the second floor.

  “It’s a nice painting.” I fiddled with the end of my braid.

  “You cut your hair,” he said.

  I glanced down at my braid. I’d taken over six inches off a few months ago. “I did.” I nodded. “So did you.”

  He ran a hand over his head. “Yeah. How are things at Steel?”

  “Oh, they’re good, you know. Still rolling.” I smiled awkwardly.

  “Is Owen still doing a good job for you?”

  I glanced down, knowing how much he hated that Owen had left his shop for mine, though his words seemed to carry no bitterness. They shouldn’t have, with how successful his shop had been this last year. “Yeah, he is. He’s our foreman now. I let Darren go.”

  Tyler raised his eyebrows. “Well, I’d say that was overdue.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, more than overdue.” I let out a nervous chuckle. I could see it in his eyes, the betrayal, the loss. The things I had done to him were still fresh, raw. I thought of our little tiny baby, the one I had discarded, and let the regret filter through me. Regret that I had done this damage, that it could never be repaired, no matter how much I wanted it to be.

  “I got an invitation to Owen’s wedding,” Tyler said, his gaze seeming to pierce mine.

  “Yeah.” All evidence of a smile gone from my face now. “He’s marrying Madeline, the receptionist I hired for the shop about a year ago.” I tugged harder on the end of my braid. “They seem good together.”

  Tyler gave a half nod and glanced around. I could see he was looking for a way out, an excuse so he didn’t have to talk to me anymore. I chewed the inside of my lip, hating how much that hurt. It wasn’t until that night in his apartment that I had owned up to my real feelings for Tyler. I was still in love with him, had always been. My deceptions had destroyed that though.

  “Well, it was good to see you, Tyler.” I moved out of the booth, toward the staircase. I didn’t want him to need an excuse to get away from me. I could leave on my own with what little pride I had left. Suddenly I didn’t care if the walls were blank forever, I just wanted to get out of that shop and far away from the ache that bloomed in my chest at the sight of him.

  The cold December air assailed my lungs and I breathed in deep, letting it sift through me, praying that it would cleanse me of my pain. It didn’t.

  Oh, well.

  I moved down the sidewalk toward my car, trying not to think about how handsome Tyler looked.

  “Rowan?”

  I turned around at the sound of my name. Tyler moved toward me quickly, his feet eating up the space on the sidewalk until he reached me. A puff of cold air left his lips.

  “What are you doing right now?”

  “Uh,” I glanced around. “Just heading home.”

  “Do you want to get some coffee or something, maybe? With me,” he added.

  “Right now?”

  He nodded. “If you can.”

  I searched his face, waiting for the shoe drop. It didn’t. “I’d like that.” I smiled, the first genuine smile I could remember in the last year. “I’d like that a lot.”

  I told myself I would never forgive her. Rowan.

  I did, though. I forgave her. There were some days when I still looked at her and ached for my loss. Our loss. The loss of our relationship for those years, the loss of our baby. I knew now that it wasn’t just my loss, that she hadn’t wanted those things – not really. She wanted my happiness, my freedom, something I couldn’t understand for the longest time. How could I? She took my life in her hands and reshaped it, remolded it on her own, unbeknownst to me.

  Sometimes I wished I could turn back the clock and change everything. There were times when I wished I had never met Rowan Steel, that I hadn’t laid eyes on her in that parking lot and fell in love in an instant. Other days I wanted to go back and change her choices. I couldn’t do any of those things, though, and I couldn’t turn off my love for her. I tried. Over and over, for years I tried. I tried until I realized it was useless. I didn’t get to choose my soul mate – no, my soul had already chosen years ago.

  I had forgiven Rowan for the losses, for the things we could never get back.

  I watched my wife now, through the crack in the doorway where she knelt by our little girl, tucking her into bed. Her hair long, her braid unraveled for the day.

  “Are you okay?” Rowan asked when she stepped out of the room.

  �
�Better than okay.” I kissed her soft lips and followed her to our bedroom.

  George Steel had told me years ago that some women, women like Rowan and her mother, expected the wind, the stars and the sky itself. I didn’t exactly agree with him. Rowan gave everything up for me all those years ago. The wind, the stars, and the sky were a small price for me to pay for our love. I would pay it every day – always.

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  Megan D. Martin’s Filthy Readers

  First off, I want to thank YOU for taking the time read my work. The greatest honor for any author is that YOU have taken the time to read our words. I am truly grateful to you.

  I also want to thank my amazing husband, Josh, who spent much of his time helping me brainstorm, and encouraging me to keep writing and following my dream.

  Special thanks go out to Crystal at Anima Editing who cracked a hard whip and kept my writing in shape. And to Kassi Jean Designs for her amazing work on the cover and the interior of the book. I heart you all so much! <3