Listening, I think back to my own reasoning for keeping it to myself, for not yelling when he did it. I was scared; I also knew it was wrong, but I stayed silent.
“Does that make it our fault? Because we said nothing?” Looking past the table to the ground, I say the words out loud, but saying them more to myself, partly unaware that my voice has even carried to him.
“No,” he whispers, startling me with the alarm in his voice. “It’s not ours at all. Wait, it’s not your fault. You did nothing.”
I look up at him, the only question I can ask resurfacing in my head and I know I need to ask it.
“If you knew it was wrong and you knew how it affected you, why did you do it to me?” I ask it in a whisper, the tears fully coming now, welling up and falling in huge droplets down to my chin.
His chest vibrates in two quick bounces as he seems to trip over a sucked-in breath.
“Ummm,” he stumbles, returning to fidgeting. “This was the hardest part of my therapy, acceptance of why I did what I did.”
“So why did you?” Suddenly the compassion I felt starts to ice back over to anger and hate, as if I heard nothing of what he shared.
“I…I was curious.” His eyes seal shut and I watch as a small single tear rolls in slow motion down his cheek, leaving a wet mark on his skin like a scar for his sin. My eyes continue in on their rain of tears and the vice on my heart lessens. “I wanted…” his voice cracks before he clears it in a growly grunt. “I had it happen so many times by girls that were older and that I didn’t know and then there was you and I guess I was curious. I felt ashamed the second it happened and hated myself for it. I ahhh…”
I put my hand back up again, stopping him, but he opens his mouth again, “Piper, did you talk to anyone? Get help? I know I have no right to even ask, but after Jax was born I thought about it more and more, knowing I had left you with something I could not even handle for myself. I just always hoped that you had.”
I shake my head, wobbling my chin back and forth quickly to answer him. “Not until I read your letter, that is.”
A breath catches in my throat and I hold it. He gave me the courage to move forward, to get it out, to open up. Had I never received a word from him, I may have held it in forever and never had the strength to face life normally. Just being here shows the potency that finally knowing had over me; a sense of closure. A peace that I’ve longed for settles in my chest and spreads out within me and I let out the breath I was holding.
“I finally did,” I tell him confidently, no longer afraid. “…and it was a long time coming.”
I RAP MY FIST FRANTICALLY on the door of her house. Please be here, please be here! I knew it wouldn’t do any good. She’ll probably look out the window and refuse to answer the door, have her dad give me some lame excuse of her being gone or just text go away, while I stand here foolishly. Abby told me to wait a day; it’s been the worst one of my life.
I pound my fist on the door again, this time hard as the solid wood surface sends a splintering sensation through my knuckles, right to my wrist. I go to slam my hand against the door, looking back into the driveway and seeing no sign of her van, but still hopeful.
My hand falls forward and so do I; I snap my head back and kick my leg out to catch my fall.
“Whoa, Evan,” her dad calls out, already clamping his hands down on my shoulders.
“Oh shit…I mean, damn it…ahhh, crap, sorry,” I trip over every word, making a lousy impression of coming back into his daughter’s life after a two-week hiatus. “Is Piper here?” I spit it out, trying to cover my tracks from a slur of cuss words and silly ramblings.
Her dad slides his lips to the side in a sly sort of smirk and subtly shakes his head. Great!
“She’s not, but…” he opens the door wider, waving his hand to the side to invite me in.
I don’t need to come in if she’s not here. “Do you know where she is?”
I’m sure my urgency is coming across in my tone, but he remains unaffected, keeping the door open and stepping to the side on his own invitation. I do the polite thing, stepping through the door and into their living room with a slow burning fizz of adrenaline working its way up my throat as my anxiety over finding her increases. My mouth might very well get the best of me today.
“Sure, well ok,” I mumble.
Pete rolls his eyes chuckling, then shuts the door. “She has a calendar that she writes down her appointments and schedule. I was going to offer to look and see if she wrote it down, but you’re welcome to just comb the town if you’d like.”
I cock my head, genuinely impressed. Now who doesn’t appreciate a good ole smartass; that deserves some patience.
“That’d be great,” I chuckle out.
Pete laughs and motions for me to follow. “Rooting around in a girl’s stuff isn’t something I would recommend, but she’s brought your name up a few times and I just so happen to like you, so I’m more than happy to help you out.” He glances over his shoulder and a step of pride tugs at me as I follow.
A dad that likes me? Who would have ever thought? Awesome!
“Hey, I can use all the help there is. She has shut it down pretty tight. I think she even has my number blocked or something.”
He snickers, “Probably. She can be pretty bull-headed when she decides something.”
I grit my teeth, losing a bit of confidence in worming my way back in there, ass tattoo or no ass tattoo.
“Yeah, she can.”
We both round the corner of her bedroom, and he knocks the door open with a worn-out creak. I pause, staying in the doorway and looking around as he walks over to her desk. I look over her perfectly made bed with a ridiculous amount of fluffy and frilly ass pillows across the top, a small folded-up blanket slung across the bottom then over to her dresser, decorated with an arsenal of lotion and perfume bottles like she’s trying to keep the department store in business.
“I do know she was meeting with a friend, but not sure where. She actually just left a bit ago so you probably passed her on your way into the subdivision.”
I swing my attention over to the desk, which seems out of place in her seemingly neat and tidy room. Her laptop is slung open with the sun highlighting a weeks’ worth of dust; with the sheen of the wood on her dresser, it definitely stands out. A crumpled sheet of paper that looks like it’s been through hell and back sticks out from beneath her bright white laptop, photo albums sit stacked behind it, a few with pictures sticking out from the corners and papers strung along the top one. Then there is a small notebook resting to the side, which Pete now runs his finger across.
“Ok, looks like she must be having a late breakfast with that friend in Rosemore. I hope you didn’t come all the way over from your place.”
I don’t even care about the wasted gas or time. “Where at?”
“Sonny’s Café, that little place over on the…”
“I know where it is.” I spin around abruptly before thinking, then turn back to face him. Pointing my hand as if I’m staging an armed robbery as a kid sporting my finger gun, I relay my gratitude, “Thanks. I’m gonna go get her,” I say slowly as if I’m asking for permission to leave.
“Well get your ass in gear then.”
Dipping my brows, I subtly place my hand over my throbbing new skin graphic, a bit of awkwardness easing over me that I’m standing here with his daughter’s name on my ass. I throw him a thumbs up so I don’t burst out laughing at the sheer irony of his words, then take off.
My pickup still drags with my foot pressed to the floorboard as I come into Rosemore and make a right, heading to Sonny’s. As soon as I get there, frustration starts to throw me into a frenzy of wanting to flip everyone off to get out of my way. I park around the corner and choose to walk up rather than fighting for a closer space, but just as the restaurant comes into view, so does Piper. She’s facing the sidewalk, but my eyes quickly dart to the person she’s looking at. What the hell?!
My step slo
ws and I stare. The dude’s profile is all I can make out and although I can’t see his full face, something about him is familiar. I walk closer, close enough for Piper to see me, but she is so caught up in the conversation that she seems to be oblivious to everything around her. I look closer at the guy, coming up to the left of the black wrought-iron fence they have gating the patio dining space off from the street.
“I never did, no…” his deep voice reaches my ears and I step closer, ready for Piper to see me at any moment, but kind of feeling a little weird about it.
“But Trent, didn’t it just…”
I watch Piper’s lips move, but all of my hearing stops shortly after I hear the name. Whipping my head back over to him, I step all the way up to the fence, placing my hand against the metal frame with an iron grip. My blood boils on that name as I grind my teeth in a hateful fury.
“Evan!” Piper calls out my name and he turns to look at me; I can’t look away. I want nothing more than to lunge over the fence and attack him.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” my voice comes out through a clamped jaw.
His eyes go wide and he stands, Piper jumping up a few feet behind him.
“Evan, what are you doing here?” she returns my question back to me.
I ignore her, strangling the fence as if it is him.
“Evan…Mitch’s brother, right?”
He looks back at Piper, appearing comfortable around her and this completely screws me up. She steps forward, closer to me, yet even closer to him and I can’t help but stare back and forth from her to him, enraged. She can’t take my calls for the past two weeks, yet she can find the time to come meet with the son of a bitch that stole so much from her. I squeeze harder on the steel bar, feeling as if my fingerprints may be permanently embedded in it. I flick my gaze back to her.
“Why are you here? With him?”
She puts her hand out, but my elevation of anger has far surpassed calming at this very moment. “How did you know where I was?” she counters my question with another one and I shake my head, not sure whether to just grab him or to be pissed off at her for putting herself through something like being around him.
How in the hell is he here? Why? How could she do this? It makes no sense.
“Listen, Evan…”
I toss my attention down to the bar I’m holding, flinching at her effort to patronize me.
“Piper, why?! Why?” I look up, pissed off at everything right now.
Trent uncomfortably glances around and a spark of satisfaction shoots through me. I hope he is uncomfortable as hell.
“Evan calm down. It’s not what it looks like and it’s hard to explain…”
I cut her off, annoyed that she won’t explain this to me; when she’s here gabbing with him like he’s some long lost buddy. “I came here to tell you I’m sorry for having a big mouth, but now all I want to do is use it to tell him just how despicable and low he is. I don’t understand how you can just sit here across from him like this is ok, like he didn’t do anything.”
Piper looks around. “Evan please. I don’t need you coming to my rescue right now. I have it under control; I know what I’m…”
“Obviously not!”
“Just quiet down. I don’t need you to protect me right no…”
“Oh you don’t need me to protect you, huh?!”
“Evan, I didn’t mean…”
“Listen, I know I used to be this guy that made you laugh and I always tried to make you forget all that happened. I thought forgetting was the only way to protect you, but I was wrong. No more jokes and no more standing back and allowing someone to hurt you in any way. They will have to deal with me and I’m not going to be nice about it.”
“Evan, I know, I know…”
“No, you don’t. I spout off plenty when I shouldn’t, but I cannot fix this or help you if you keep…” I call out, my voice getting louder, and Piper looking around more and more.
“Listen, I’m going to go,” Trent jumps in; we both turn to look at him, my lip curled and eyes squinted in an untamable rage.
“Is everything ok, Miss?” A waitress walks up, but I can’t take my eyes off of Trent. He makes a wrong move and I will…
“He was just leaving.” I snap my head to Piper as she stares at me; her words deliver a punch to the gut that softens the rage that was building inside of me.
“Piper…” I plead.
“Evan,” she begins firmly, looking like she has been crying, yet a strength behind her eyes that makes me think she may not need me at all.
I try to break through the wall she’s putting up to shut me out, “I just want to help. I can fix this.”
“But you can’t fix me,” she whispers, gently without a trace of anger or bitterness.
I hang my head on her words, a raw sensation tugging at the walls of my chest and pulling them in on my heart. Looking back at her, I nod, pressing my lips together. I glance over to the asshole that stole her from me before she was even mine. He’s the reason she’s struggled all of these years. He’s the one at fault for taking the most fragile pieces of her life, like trust and security and desire; feelings that were foreign to her at that age so they never even got a chance to develop and prosper.
Continuing to shake my head, I’m in total disagreement of her not allowing me to intervene here, yet, I will respect her wishes. I know what is best; what she wants. I won’t try to fix this or her or whatever she views this as.
I’ll keep my mouth shut this time; I’ll be the one to throw in the towel for now.
I won’t say a word to him no matter how sick and twisted I think he is.
I’ll keep my distance and let her shove me out of her life and this time…
I’ll be the one to walk away.
I DON’T SAY A WORD as he walks off, looking defeated. I didn’t even mean Evan when I told the waitress that he was leaving, I meant Trent. A part of me is shouting out to go catch him, to stop him from going. I haven’t seen him in two weeks and it has without a doubt been the longest two weeks of my life, but right now, I have to finish this. I have to get full closure and, this is the final step before I can be completely whole again and ready to be a part of someone’s life; a part of Evan’s life. I won’t walk out on him again and I refuse to give up on him like I have in the past.
“He cares about you…a lot.”
I spin around, mystified by Trent’s words. “He does?”
I already know the answer, but I ask it anyways. Every part of me wants to punish myself for torturing him with my incapability to cope for all these years. I should have been clinging to him for comfort and strength since he provided me with the will to keep breathing, but instead I shoved him as far away as possible.
“That’s obvious. He didn’t want to walk away. He should want to knock my teeth out. He should want to hurt me as much as I hurt you, and that alone is an infinity of pain. He does know?”
My stomach churns and I look back down at the sidewalk, not even able to see him any longer.
“Yeah, he was the first person I told. He was the only one I told for the longest time,” I say, regretting everything that just happened. He wasn’t hearing me. He was so angry by seeing Trent that he couldn’t see straight.
“Piper?”
I glance over to Trent, still standing near the table.
“Didn’t that help? I mean, it seems you both care pretty deeply for each other, otherwise he wouldn’t have been so angry and well, I don’t think you’d be so determined to talk to me after all these years unless there was a reason behind it or maybe a person. I know, for me, Sarah was the flame that fueled my fire to get closure. Seems he’s yours maybe?” I look down as a hand gently falls to my shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll listen once he cools off.”
I stare back at his hand on my shoulder and he quickly removes it.
“He is,” I mumble out quietly, answering his initial question, but still focused on the fact that I didn’t flinch; I didn’
t pass out. I sat here today and met with someone I was frightened of for a third of my life. I did it.
“He is…” a surge of relief and acceptance pierces my conscience and spreads out, urging me to go after him. “I have to go.” I spin around, a smile in my heart as I dart to my chair to grab my purse. “Good luck with your son and wife.”
I stop, a few paces away from him and for an instant want to hug him. Not to thank him for talking to me, but over a shared heartache; over a trauma that shaped and nearly destroyed both of us. I want to hug him for the little boy that he didn’t get to be; for the fears he had to endure alone. He was the cause of my pain, yet also the undoing. Who would have ever thought?
Slowly, I reach my hand out, extending it between us. It catches his attention and gratitude fills every corner of his face as he grabs mine in turn and gives it a gentle shake.
“Good luck to you and your guy as well.”
With that I sprint off, a sense of freedom I’ve never felt swelling within me.
Feeling more confident and less hesitant in my life by the second, I drive straight to Evan’s apartment, but come up empty. I swing by his work and then onto Judd’s to check there, remembering how Abby called me just yesterday and told me about her run in with Evan; I turn up unlucky at both. I stumble through my mind, my head an encyclopedia of information when it comes to Evan, yet still not able to think of a single place he could be.
But then it comes to me; the lake.
I drive and I drive, my heart on fire with the desire to bear my soul before him. A four-hour drive and I have plenty of thinking time, going over everything Trent said, finding forgiveness in my heart for what he did, imagining what I’ll say to Evan and knowing one hundred percent that everything will be alright from here on out.
I pull into the gravel lot, parking directly behind his grandpa’s cabin and his camper so I can get there faster. I barely even connect with the handle of the van door and already have it open, my feet taking the lead as I run to his camper.
Breathe With Me (The Breathe Series Book 3) Page 37
