by Cassia Leo
“No. I don’t have a crush on anyone other than Justin Timberlake.”
“Justin Timberlake doesn’t count,” I reply, shaking my head both at Hallie and at myself for thinking that Hallie would keep the identity of her crush from me. “He’s an alien. It’s not possible for a human to be born that hot, with that much talent.”
We arrive in front of my two-story house on Evans Street and Hallie tucks her light-brown hair behind her ear as she stares at the upstairs windows. “Then I guess the answer is no. But that might change. We are juniors now.”
“Is that supposed to be some sort of achievement? I thought turning sixteen was only a big deal in Texas.”
“Everything’s a big deal in Texas. Especially Justin Timberlake.” She winks as she begins to walk away. “Call me later.”
She heads off in the direction of her house around the corner and I can’t help but wonder if Hallie is lying to me. She’s stretched the truth before, but only to spare my feelings. Maybe Houston did say something about me, something about how I’ll never have a chance with him.
My chest hurts just considering this. I stroll up the walkway toward the front steps and my dad opens the front door before I even reach the porch. “Hey, sweetheart. How was the show?”
I think about the amazing costumes and the energy of being that close to the performers. “It was great,” I reply, taking off my jacket as I adjust to the warmth of the living room.
My dad takes my coat and I sit on the sofa to reflect on how much I liked the play. Then I think of the conversation Hallie and I had before the show about the importance of friendship. And I find solace in knowing that it doesn’t matter if Houston asked Hallie about me, because what I said to her today is all that matters. I’d rather keep pretending not to love Houston than risk getting my heart broken and possibly losing her as a friend.
Because Hallie and I are more than friends. She’s the sister I never had and the only person I don’t have to pretend with.
No friendship, no love.
33. Houston
August 27th
* * *
Rory closes her eyes when she finishes reading the letter. I hold my breath waiting for her response. The tears fall silently down her cheeks and I want to pull her in my arms and hold her until I’ve soaked up all her pain.
She opens her eyes and throws the letter at me as she leaps from the sofa and runs to the bathroom. Skippy and I race after her, but she slams the door to keep us out. The sound of her vomiting makes my stomach ache. But the sobs that come between each chorus of retching make me absolutely sick with myself.
I knock on the door when I hear a few seconds of silence, but her response echoes in the toilet bowl. “Go away!”
She’s dry heaving now, but she manages to tell me to get out a couple more times. If it were anyone but Rory I would listen. I push the bathroom door open slowly and she’s sobbing with her cheek resting on her arm, which is resting on the toilet seat. Skippy peeks inside the bathroom, sees her near the toilet, then turns around to go back to the living room.
I kneel next to her and she looks up at me, her eyes full of absolute despair. “I’m sorry I didn’t show you the letter sooner,” I begin, “but you can’t tell me you don’t understand why.”
She covers her mouth as she sits up and leans back against the tub. “I don’t understand any of this.” Her shoulders fold inward as she tries to hold back the sobbing and retching. “And I don’t know if I even want to understand it. I’m so disgusted with myself. I’m so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid. You’re the only smart person in this whole fucked-up situation.”
“No, I’m an idiot. I’ve spent thirteen years loving someone who was incapable of loving me. How, Houston? How could you pretend to love me for so long?”
I clench my jaw as I look into her eyes. “I wasn’t pretending,” I reply. “I couldn’t ask you to choose between me and your father. Just because our relationship was built on a lie, it doesn’t mean I didn’t love the fuck out of you… I still do and I always will.”
She rests her elbows on her knees and closes her eyes as she covers her face. “I knew you were hiding something from me, but I never expected this.” She draws in a long, stuttered breath, then she looks up at me with a question in her eyes. “You said our relationship was built on a lie. What does that mean?”
I let out a deep sigh as I prepare to tell her the most damaging secret of them all. “When I asked you to move in with me, I hadn’t read Hallie’s letter yet. But after we went back to my apartment, I sat in the bathroom with the letter and tried not to punch the mirror as I read Hallie’s words. I’ve never been so mad in my life. I wanted to burst into the bedroom where you were sleeping and take my anger out on you even though Hallie had just begged me not to in that letter.”
Rory shakes her head as she covers her face again. I wish her father were here to see what a frightening mess all of us have made of this beautiful girl. This innocent girl whose only sin was to love and trust with all her heart.
“But I decided that instead of hurting you right there and then, I would bide my time. And I’d hurt you when you least expected it. I wanted you to hurt as much as Hallie did, then maybe your dad would feel the gravity of what he’d done to my sister. Maybe then he’d feel just a drop of the pain I was feeling.”
She looks up at me, her eyes wide with shock. “That’s why you broke up with me when I told you about the pregnancy? To destroy me?”
I shake my head adamantly. “No, you don’t understand. Initially, I wanted to hurt you. But it only took a couple of days for the anger to subside. And in less than a month, I had fallen so utterly and completely in love with you, Rory.
“When you told me about the baby, I broke up with you because I was afraid if we got married, and I had to see your father walking you down the aisle or holding our child, I wouldn’t be able to keep on lying to you. But I knew the truth would knock the stilts out from underneath us and we’d fall so hard we might never get up. I didn’t want to ruin you. All I ever wanted was for you to move on.”
“Move on?” Her hands tremble as she wipes the tears from her chin. “How was I supposed to do that when you were holding on to the one thing that would give me closure?”
“I’m so sorry I didn’t show you the letter. It’s the biggest regret of my life.”
“Your biggest regret?” She shakes her head as if she can’t believe what’s she’s hearing. “Fuck you and your regrets. Your regrets ruined me. Get out.”
I reach for her face and she smacks my hand away. “I know you hate me right now, but this isn’t over.”
“Yes, it is.” She rises from the floor and I follow her out of the bathroom. “This is where it ends.” She stops just inside the front door, her lips trembling as she presses them together and looks me in the eye. “Good-bye, Houston.”
“We’ll always make it back to each other.”
“Back to what? There’s nothing left.”
Stepping forward, I take her face in my hands. “Back to us. This isn’t the end of us, Rory. You know it as well as I do.” My lips brush softly over the tracks of tears glistening on her supple skin and she lets out a muffled sob. “The world can fall to pieces around us, but in the end, we’ll always make it back to us.”
She grabs my wrists as I kiss the corner of her mouth. “No, Houston, don’t.”
“We’re the only thing that makes sense in all of this.” I kiss her again and she whimpers. “Just give me some time to make this right.”
Tangling my fingers in her silky hair, I kiss her tenderly. Her lips are salty and moist with tears, but she kisses me back. I want to lift her up and carry her to the bedroom, but I don’t want to make this even more difficult. After today, Rory and I will have to go back to being strangers until I can figure a safe way out of my marriage.
She groans as she pushes me away and whispers, “Stop.” Her gaze is fixed on Hallie’s letter and the Sierra Nevada b
ox where I left them on the coffee table. “Get out, Houston. And don’t ever knock on my door again. Ever.”
I stare at the box on the table and consider taking it with me—she did try to give it back to me earlier—but I decide to leave it. Telling Rory the truth doesn’t change the fact that the ring is hers. If she doesn’t want it, neither do I.
I also want to grab the letter. It’s been such an important part of my life for the past five and a half years. It’s my last connection to my baby sister. It’s proof of her suffering. But I think that’s exactly why I have to leave it with Rory.
I may have loved Hallie, but Rory knew and loved her like no one else. Rory deserves to hold on to that letter so she can seek the answers she needs to finally find some peace. I only hope I’ll be there when that happens.
I sigh as I reach for the doorknob. “You’ll always be the deepest scar on my heart.”
34. Rory
Seven weeks later
* * *
The line for the wine tasting is so long it extends from the bar, out along the glass walls enclosing this area from the rest of the market, and snakes around the glass until it reaches the sidewalk outside. The grand opening of Zucker’s Café & Wine Bar looks like it’s going to be a huge success. After the stress of the past seven weeks, I should be excited for all the preparation to finally be over. But I can’t think of anything else right now except the guy staring at me from where he stands at the front of the line of customers.
He looks a little nervous, with his hands tucked in his pockets and a bashful smile lighting up his boyish good looks. I smile at him as Bella and I walk in and take our place behind the bar. He beams and I shake my head as I wonder how someone can be born with such a perfect smile.
“I’ll take the first person in line,” I say, looking straight at him. He steps forward as Bella takes the customer behind him. “What can I help you with, sir?”
He scratches his beard as he reads the options on the menu board on the wall behind me. “I’ll take a bottle of Lagunitas IPA and”—he cocks an eyebrow and I wait for him to finish—“a date to my brother’s annual Hipster Halloween party next Saturday.”
I raise my eyebrows. “That’s a tall order. Let me get your beer first.” I grab his beer out of the cooler behind me, then I pop the top off and set it down in front of him on top of a cocktail napkin. “That will be $7.50.”
He hands me a ten-dollar bill and tells me to keep the change. “And the party?”
“Who’s going to be there?”
“Just a bunch of people wearing irony as if it didn’t go out of style last year.”
“Irony is so over!”
He laughs at my reference to Portlandia. “Looks like you’ll fit right in.”
I sigh as I look at the impatient line of thirsty patrons waiting behind him. “Okay, but you have to promise not to leave my side. I’m terrible at parties. I’m… way out of practice.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll stick to you like a beard on a hipster.”
He winks at me as he sets off to sit at a small table in the corner. I steal glances at him every few customers and every once in a while I catch him looking in my direction. His presence is making me a little nervous. I keep wondering if either Houston or Troy are going to show up for the grand opening.
I haven’t seen Houston since he brought Hallie’s letter to me seven weeks ago. Troy has been handling the setup of the beer taps. I don’t know if this is because Houston is trying to respect my desire to not see him or because he’s the one who doesn’t want to see me. But seeing Troy six times in the past seven weeks has been more than enough reminders.
Every time Troy walked into the bar, I practically held my breath the entire time he was here. I was just waiting for him to say something about Houston. Sometimes, I’d try to guess what he might say, but that became too painful a game to play. What if Troy broke his silence only to tell me that Houston and his wife were now living happily ever after?
Just imagining this scenario makes me sick with emotional agony. And the nausea only worsens when I realize how deeply I’m still in love with Houston. And how, no matter how toxic things got between us, the good still outweighs the bad in my lovesick recollection.
After three hours and forty minutes without a break in the line of customers, Bella and I are relieved by Benji and Hernando, the only person at the grand opening with actual bartending experience. Bella makes herself a skinny latte and I grab an iced green tea before heading over to join Liam at his table.
“Those are some impressive beer pouring skills,” he remarks.
“It’s all in the wrist.” I sigh as my aching feet tingle with relief when I sit down. “I’m sorry I haven’t been answering your calls.”
“Or texts, but who’s keeping track?” He smiles as he stares at the empty beer bottle on the table. “I figured you had a lot on your mind, and you did respond that one time to tell me you were okay, so I probably should have taken the hint. I guess I’m just a glutton for punishment.”
“It’s been a weird seven weeks.”
“Want to talk about it?”
I look up from my iced tea, and the inquisitive expression on his face makes me want to tell him everything, but I don’t want to scare him away. Plus, my coffee break is nowhere near long enough to explain how I fell in love with a boy thirteen years ago and he, along with my best friend, proceeded to smash my heart into a billion pieces. Or how I looked up to my father as a role model most of my life and how, until seven weeks ago, I was unable to comprehend why he’s hardly spoken to me in the past five years. Or how my mother could possibly think I didn’t want to know her suspicions about Hallie. Basically, I don’t have enough time to tell Liam how everyone I’ve ever given my heart to managed to stomp all over it.
“I think that conversation should be saved for a moment when you have about ninety-two hours to spare.”
He chuckles. “I’ll have to check my calendar, but I think I can fit you in next month.”
“Lucky you.” I take another sip from my tea, then I sit back in my wooden chair. “Why do you like me?”
He laughs and I realize how weird that must sound to him.
“I’m serious,” I insist. “I’m a hot mess.”
“That’s probably why I like you,” he replies. “I like my girls like I like my… girls: hot and messy.”
“That’s an amazing analogy.”
“What can I say? When I was in college, I was partnered up with this really smart girl who taught me how to construct the perfect sentence.”
“Really? So what’s the perfect sentence?”
He smiles and leans forward as if he’s about to divulge a secret. “Then, she let it go.”
I don’t know if it was his intention, but these five simple words stir a newfound energy inside me. A sudden awareness that I don’t have to tell Liam anything about Houston. Liam can be my fresh start. All I have to do is let it go.
I smile as I rise from the table. “Sounds like a triumphant last line in a book.”
“Feel free to use it.”
I nod as I turn to leave. “I just might.”
As I walk back to the bar, I glance at Liam over my shoulder, but he’s already out of his chair and heading toward the recycling bins near the coffee prep station. I turn back toward the bar, but something I see out of the corner of my eye makes my heart stop. I whip my head around to get a better look, but no one’s there.
I shake my head in disbelief. A half a second ago Houston was standing right there near the entrance. I can still see the green Barley Legal hoodie and the soft light bouncing off his golden-brown hair. But now he’s gone.
Am I going crazy?
I rush back to the bar before anyone realizes how disturbed I am. Liam leaves the store and I spend the rest of the night trying not to sweat as I slide glass after glass of beer and wine across the bar. Bella and Benji offer to give me a ride when we leave the store at eleven p.m., but I decline their offer a
nd set off on my own.
I don’t mind walking the streets of Goose Hollow late at night. Besides, it gives me a chance to walk off some of the leftover anxiety from seeing Houston’s ghost.
I stroll casually through the misty rain, inhaling deep breaths of cleansing Oregon air as I contemplate how much of the truth I should share with Liam and where this new adventure may take me. Maybe Liam will be the equivalent of Houston’s PTSD therapy. Perhaps he’ll help me forget everything I’ve lost and found.
I was eighteen when I got lost in Houston, and in him I found myself. They say love is just two souls recognizing each other. With Houston and me it was more like two souls staring into a mirror, my left hand aligned with his right, our hearts skipping a beat at the same moment, our lungs choking on the same noxious air, our scars as perfectly aligned as mountains and fault lines. If ever two souls were perfectly right and perfectly wrong for each other, it would be us.
Us.
I guess the story of us ends here.
But Hallie’s story continues. And I won’t rest until I know her truth inside and out.
Right now, all I know is that Hallie was drowning, but she was too afraid to reach for a lifeline. As heartbroken as I am that she didn’t give me the opportunity to understand her, I’m even more grateful to her for loving me enough to try to protect me in her last moments. And for teaching me the most important lesson I’ve ever learned.
You can’t erase love without erasing yourself.
Thank you for reading the The Way We Fall! The story continues in The Way We Break. Come discuss the books with other fans on Facebook.
Also by Cassia Leo
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