Embrace the Moment

by Andrea Michelle

  I was beyond shocked, and a hell of a lot pissed off to see him sitting there.

  The nerve.

  I guessed they’d let him out, but how dare he show up here to what—finish this fight?

  I have no more fight left in me. Between getting Riley to admit that she loves me and losing her for months—thanks to a misunderstanding and rumor, then getting her back only to end up here—and then, that fucking nightmare—I was mentally drained.

  I was angry at the world, and the shit hand cards it kept dealing to the table. I FOLD so now can we move on, pretty fucking please, I mentally begged of fate.

  I feel the blood begin to race in my veins just thinking about it. I reign in my temper, take a deep breath and climb down the steps. “What do you want?” I ask crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the porch.

  He hops off my truck. “To talk. I just want to talk...that’s all.” He begins to pace and grab his hair looking up at the sky. I need him to leave so I can get to Riley, but I am curious as to what the hell else he has to say about what happened last night. He takes a deep breath and looks at me.

  He doesn’t appear to want to fight. In fact, I see defeat in his eyes, and then he starts, “Do you remember when we were kids? You, me and Riley?” He doesn’t even give me time to reply before he continues, “I do. I remember every moment of every second we were all friends growing up. I can’t pinpoint when it was that you and I became enemies, or when it happened that Riley began to look at me with the same eyes you do, but I remember it—the good times—before it all turned to shit.”

  I sigh heavily. “I remember when we were friends, Dean, and I remember the exact time I began hating you,” I admit.

  “When?” he asks. “Because I have no fucking clue what the hell happened man? We were friends—all three of us, at one time.”

  “Were. We were friends, Dean, and then you became an asshole.” I push off the porch and step forward.

  “Asshole? How? What did I do?”

  I pause—trying to form the thoughts in order to make them clear to him. “Seriously? Dean, how do you not know this? You knew she meant everything to me. You knew I had feelings for her, and you still went after her. That's a dick move man."

  I continue...

  "Did you know that the night you kissed her for the first time was the same damn night that she and I kissed for the first time?" His eyebrows draw apart, and his eyes widen. I can tell he didn't know that. Well, now he does.

  Before he can reply, I add a little more information for him. "Yeah, it was the best damn kiss I’d ever had in my life, and I thought—finally—Riley and I could cross this invisible line she’d drawn. She had so many damn walls built up around her. Every time I tried to break them down, she would panic but that night, it was different. And hell, if you didn't come along to confuse the shit out of her."

  He stares at me for a beat and sighs. "Josh, I could say the same to you dude. Y'all may have had this special connection, or barrier I couldn't break through too, but I cared for her just the same. You knew that too. You knew I liked her."

  It was my turn to sigh because I did know, but he didn’t deserve her. "She was special to me. She was everything to me, and I know I sound like I’m pussy whipped, but it's true. She belonged with me and the second an opportunity came, you swooped right in."

  He throws his hands up in the air, "so, that's what it's about? She gave me a chance and not you? She let her walls down for me?"

  I stare at him not sure if he is right or not. Have I hated him all these years because she let him in first? No, I was sure as shit that I’d hated him because he was a douchebag and didn’t deserve to be the one to break down her walls. "I don't know, to be honest, but I know you didn't deserve her," I said

  "And you did?" he shouts.

  "Damn straight," I deadpan.

  Dean shakes his head, “When her father died, you put distance between the two of you. You weren’t treating her like you once had. You pushed her away, Josh. You did. She told me it hurt to be near you because she could feel your pain, and she knew you saw her differently. I was there for her—because believe it or not—I do fucking care.”

  I run a hand over my face and grit my teeth, “I know that. And you’re right, Dean. You were there—ready to take advantage. I was hurting, too. I didn’t push her away. I needed time to sort myself out. I lost my mom, too. You know? We both lost a parent that day.”

  I begin to pace and hate myself for the way I acted then. I needed her, she needed me and instead of pulling together—he was right—we’d pulled apart. I pulled away. I don’t know why I did. I just did, and she found comfort in him. He was there for her when I wasn’t. I couldn’t blame him for that. I should thank him because she wasn’t alone, but then he fucked her over. So, fuck giving him thanks. Fuck him and the way he cares for her. His ‘care’ meant shit. She needed someone. She needed me, and I wasn’t there.

  We stare at each other, neither knowing what to say next, not exactly. Except I do. I have a question I needed answered. "If you cared for her then why did you do it? Why did you lie all these years, and make her think she would be your first when you know she wasn't even your second?"

  He swallows and then grimaces. "I never thought she would find out. I just wanted to be with her, and I thought if she would give me that last little piece of herself, then she would truly be mine. She wouldn't forgive me if she knew who I really was."

  "That's a bunch of bullshit and you know it. She wouldn't have sex with you, and you got it on the side, and you made her feel guilty for that. That's low dude, and you know it."

  "I never claimed to be the best for her, and you’re right, I'm not deserving, but...truth? I knew deep down the reason she wouldn't sleep with me was because of you. It was always you. Even when we were kids, it was you. I would tell her a joke, and she would look at me confused. I would tell you the same damn joke, and you would laugh because it was funny. It never failed, as we walked to school together the next morning, you would always share with her the very same joke I’d already told her—ya know... the one she thought wasn’t funny. She would laugh and look at you like you hung the damn moon. It was the same damn joke, just coming out of your mouth, not mine.”

  He sighs. “When we were together... I wasn't in denial about what I saw, Josh. She was always looking at you, telling me shit you said like I gave a flying fuck—staring out her window when we sat on her bed, as though she were dreaming about what was on the other side of it. It ate me up inside. I wanted her to want me, dammit, but she was always wondering about you. I cared. That's not a lie. I still care. It's not an excuse, but I just wanted to feel wanted, and sex did that. In my mind, it was Riley I was with."

  I ball my fist ready to kick his ass again. The only thought I have hearing his words is, She is mine. He needs to understand that, and never, ever, picture her that way again. "She.Is.Mine." I tell him through gritted teeth.

  He growls softly as he sits on the step, his eyes cast down to the ground. "I know. She always was," he whispers. Then he looks back up to me, "Wasn't she?" He stares at me for a beat longer without my reply, and then his eyes downcast again.

  Was she? I wonder.

  I wonder if he is sincere in everything he is saying. He gazes up at me, "Is she okay? I never meant to hurt her. I don't know why I pushed her. My head was all fucked up last night. I didn't mean to hurt her, Josh." He grabs a handful of his hair and looks toward her house.

  I hop up on the hood of my truck, "She is. She has a concussion and seems confused about stuff. She has been asleep for a while, but the doctor says that is normal, and she will be fine."

  He nods, “That’s good. Not that you care or anything, but I spent the night in jail until I was sober. I guess I should be somewhat thankful for that. They fined me a shitload instead of revoking my license, though. So I guess I got lucky. Oh, and her mom called the cops. I had to promise to stay away from her, or she would get a restraining order ag
ainst me.”

  I didn’t know that, but I play it off and nod, “I see. Well, it could’ve been worse. You could’ve gotten on your bike and hurt someone—killed yourself. How could you be so reckless, especially around Riley? Dude, I should kick your ass just for that alone. That is how my mom died. The very reason her dad is dead.”

  He doesn’t meet my eyes. He knows, and when he says, “I did hurt someone. I hurt the best damn thing to ever exist to me. I never meant to, though,” I begin to feel angry again. She is the best damn thing to ever exist to ME.

  “Dean, whether you meant to hurt her or not, is irrelevant. The point is you did. You put your hands on her out of anger. Her mom is just protecting her.” Something I’d failed to do, I thought.

  He stares at me with a blank expression, and his eyes look desolate, “I know. I guess I am like my dad, after all.”

  I want to correct him, to tell him he is nothing like his asshole of a dad, but I don’t because I’m not exactly sure if he is or if he isn’t like him, people change. It’s been years since I knew the Dean that was once considered a friend.

  "I should go. I won't be around for a few days. I need to clear my head. I spoke with her mom this morning, apologized and explained my side. I asked if I could come say goodbye to Riley and she agreed, but only if Riley agreed to see me.”

  "No, you can't do that," I say defensively. “You just said her mom didn’t want you around, Riley.”

  His narrowed eyes dart to mine as he stands, squaring his shoulders. "Look, I get it. She's yours... whatever. Like I said, she always was. I just want to talk to her and apologize. Say goodbye. Okay? Besides, her mom is the one to make that call, Josh—not you—and she says it’s fine."

  It wasn’t fine.

  Another thought hit me. "What about Preslee?"

  With a raised brow, he asks, "What about her? What was that yesterday at Riley's house? What the hell were y'all talking about anyway?"

  He didn’t know? "I told you to go talk to her. Did you not?"

  He shakes his head back and forth. “No, I didn't want to be around her. After a few bottles, my thoughts were on Riley."

  I ignored his thoughts being on Riley—I say, "Dude, she is pregnant, and she claims it's yours."

  His eyes go wide, and I see the panic set in and then the realization of it. "What? No!" He shouts and then drops his voice lower, "No, she can't be. She said she was on the pill."

  Aha! "Well, then she told a lie, brother. She said one time... No condom and hello baby."

  He looks up to the sky grunting, "Fuck! I, well...ain’t that some shit. I've gotta go." He pauses, "Look, Josh, last night was a wakeup call for me, and I get it now. She belongs with you. I can't say that I don't wish it were me—because I do. I wish she thought I hung the moon for her, but I will respect her enough to let her be happy. I should have done that a long time ago." He says, as he turns to walk back down the street towards his house.

  I have no reply. I have nothing more to say. I just hope he is being honest and will leave her alone.

  After stopping to get Riley’s mom some breakfast and coffee to go, I head to the hospital, and my heart beats erratically as I hope to see Riley’s beautiful eyes this morning.

  I get off the elevator, finding Dean standing with Riley’s mom outside her room. They are talking in hushed tones. She is giving him an earful, and he is hanging on her every word holding flowers and a teddy bear, obviously for Riley.

  I feel sick. I thought about it the whole way over here. Dean is a dick, and I hate him no less, standing here after his apologies and explanation than I did yesterday. He may care for her, fuck, he may even love her, but it doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t deserve her. She belongs with me. She always has.

  They both turn to meet my eyes, and I hide my insecurity and nod my head.

  “Good Morning, Mrs. Shaw. I brought you breakfast and coffee.” I offer with a smile, full of the confidence I don’t really feel on the inside.

  She smiles wide, Dean frowns. Suck it, motherfucker! “You go on inside. I’ll be in there in a few minutes.” She turns to grab Dean by the elbow and pull him out of the walkway.

  I nod my head and make my way inside, disappointment crashing in my veins when I find her asleep. I brush the hair out of her face, and find dried tears on her cheeks like she has been crying.

  I lean down and kiss her forehead. I study her to memory. She is so beautiful. I reach my hand down and interlace our fingers as I look to the door to find her mom coming in without Dean.

  CHAPTER 5

  I’m beginning to think Dean has multiple personalities. The nice Dean and the cruel Dean. I also think I must be crazy because I feel like I had a visit from death.

  My eyes flutter open as I realize my hand is still interlaced with my dad’s hand, except it isn’t his hand any longer—it’s Josh’s.

  “Riley? Baby? Oh, God. It’s so good to see those beautiful eyes. She’s awake,” he says over his shoulder to my mom. She joins him in gushing, hugging and welcoming me back to wherever I just came from.

  “Josh? Mom?” Oh, my head hurts. I feel groggy and confused. I blink my eyes a lot. The light hurts my eyes. “What happened? Where’s my dad?” I ask.

  Josh looks at me perplexed, and then he looks at my mom with evident worry in his expression.

  “Your dad?” he inquires with a raised brow.

  I nod, “He was just here. Right there.” I point to the spot next to my bed that is empty. “He held my hand, helped me wake up.”

  I pull my hand from Josh’s and touch my fingers with the other hand. “I think he held my hand. Maybe, I dreamed it.” I rub my temples and try to relieve some of the throbbing.

  They are both looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. I’m wondering if I have.

  The doctor takes this moment to enter the room, “Well, good morning, sunshine,” he says in a friendly voice while smiling at me. “Can you tell me your name?”

  That is a weird question. Shouldn’t he know my name if he is my doctor? I lift my brows and answer, “Riley.”

  Another question rolls off his tongue. “Can you tell me who the president is?”

  Really?

  “Obama,” I answer without hesitation.

  “Can you tell me what year it is?”

  This is strange.

  “2013.”

  He smiles like I just won some contest. “Perfect. Now, how do you feel?” He asks pulling out a pen from his pocket. He starts flashing this annoying little light in my eyes. He checks the machine next to me and makes a humming sound.

  “Like shit,” I answer truthfully. My mom gasps, scolds me and apologizes to the good doctor for my choice of words. Josh just laughs.

  The doctor checks my pulse and grins, “That’s to be expected. You look good, though.” His eyes cut to my moms and his face falters, “and how are you, Claudia?” The way his voice softens, and the way he says her name like a purr makes me wonder if he knows her. That’s odd.

  She smiles fondly, “Nothing to worry about, Dr. Peters.” Their eyes linger on one another just a little too long for my comfort, so I clear my throat. Dr. Peters blinks his eyes a few times and turns to look down at me. What the hell was that?

  “Can you sit up?” he asks as he writes a few things down in a chart by my bed. I nod, sitting up with Josh’s assistance.

  “This looks good, too,” he says as he coaxes me back down.

  “What looks good, too?” I ask confused.

  “You have two small staples in your head back there—nothing to worry about.

  I look confused back and forth between the faces in the room. What happened? Why am I even in the hospital?

  “Staples? Why do I have staples?” I begin to freak out.

  Josh looks at the doctor concerned, and my mom walks over to stand in the spot my dad was just in. My Dad? What the hell is wrong with me? Am I going crazy?

  I guess the doctor senses their concern as he proceeds to explain
, “Like I told y’all last night, it is common for patients with concussions to not remember the incident, or to suffer slight amnesia. This will pass as she heals.”

  Incident? What incident? I look around at all of them with wide eyes, “A concussion?”

  Josh brushes his knuckles along my cheek, “Something happened. You, um, you hit your head,” he whispers.

  “What happened? I can’t remember. I remember we ate cheesecake. We were going to the movie, I think. I can’t remember anything after that.”

  I grab my head again and try to blink the fuzziness out of my eyes. “Dean? Was Dean there?” I ask. Josh puts his head down.

  Or maybe, I dreamed about Dean, but why would I do that?

  “I was.” I hear his voice say from the doorway. Or maybe not.

  My mom stands up and makes her way to the door, Josh curses under his breath. “Now isn’t a good time, Dean. She just woke up,” she tells him pushing on his chest.

  “I won’t stay long. I just want to apologize. Please. I promise not to touch her. I promise, Mrs. Shaw. I just need to talk to her.” Dean pleads with my mom to let him in the room, and the whole altercation is bewildering.

  I can’t look at Dean, though. I’m too busy looking at Josh’s eyes. They look lost, worried, sad and maybe even apologetic. I don’t understand the expression on his face, and it’s holding me captive.

  “Josh?” I whisper, reaching up to smooth his brow line. His eyes squeeze shut, then slowly open and move up to meet mine. They look glassy like he is trying not to cry.

  “What happened?” I ask again in a low voice that only he can hear.

  He looks to the door where Dean is stood. They exchange something with one look that I don’t understand. The door is propped open, and I can’t hear what my mom is telling Dean in a hushed whisper.

  Josh looks back at me, he grabs my hand, kisses my palm softly and then he sighs. “I’m going to let Dean explain it to you, if your mom agrees to let him talk to you. But now that you’re awake, baby, there is something you should know...”