Embrace the Moment

by Andrea Michelle

  “Oookay? So tell me,” I whisper again feeling a pit in my stomach grow uneasy.

  “I love you. Okay? I love you so much and—and I think that maybe Dean does, too,” he says.

  My eyes dart to the door and then back to his, “What? What the hell are you talking about? Why would you say that to me?” I feel my pulse begin to race. I begin to feel angry not confused. Why would he say that? Josh loves me, right? RIGHT?

  The doctor who is still standing in the room observing all of this finally intervenes. “Look, she just woke up, and she needs to get her bearings. I’m going to have to ask you all to step outside, so I can evaluate my patient further. Okay?” He starts shooing them out the door. And as much as I don’t want to be alone—I want to be alone.

  After some bickering and protesting, the room falls silent, other than my monitor beeping, the drip in the IV and the racing thoughts in my mind—it’s not quiet enough. The doctor walks back over to me and checks the machine again, “That is better,” he smiles.

  He seems warm and sweet—eyes like a grandfather. I bet he is a nice man. “I’m taking your cues, okay? You seem to be just fine, Riley. The confusion is absolutely normal so don’t fret over that. Also, you need to eat something. I’m going to let you go home after that, and you might feel drowsy for a while, again that is to be expected.”

  I nod. “Can you send Dean in? I need to speak to him. He’s just outside. He’s the one that was trying to come in earlier. Will you tell my mom it’s okay? I need to—well I don’t know what I need, but I think I need to speak to him.”

  The doctor’s mouth forms a straight line, and I can tell he is reluctant to allow this, and I’m not sure exactly why that is. “I will ask your mom, but ultimately it’s her decision on if Dean is allowed in this room with you. Okay?”

  I stare at him trying to read into that statement, but I’m stumped, “Okay.”

  When the door opens to my room, I try really hard to stay calm. I don’t feel calm. I don’t like not knowing what happened to me, and why I’m here with staples in my head and a visit from my dead father. I don’t like that Josh said he loves me and in the same sentence, says Dean does too. I don’t like that Dean has any part of any of this at all.

  Dean reluctantly walks forward to me and takes a seat in the chair that I gesture to. “Hi,” he says whispering.

  “Hi,” I reply with a whisper in return. I don’t know why we are whispering.

  He lifts his hand and reaches it to my hair but stops himself when he sees me tense. He places his hand back into his lap. Dean has a habit of grabbing a curl and twining it between his fingers.

  His brown eyes look lifeless. “I’m sorry, Riley. I never meant to hurt you. Not just last night, but—ever. I never meant to hurt you.” His voice cracks and fear prickles within me. He hurt me?

  “What happened to me? I don’t remember,” I ask.

  He looks at the door and then to me. “You don’t remember?”

  I shake my head back and forth. He stares at me for the longest time as if contemplating his reply carefully.

  “I pushed you.” He puffs the words out like air as he looks away from me.

  “You what?”

  His eyes move back to mine, and he pauses, gauging my reaction. I don’t have one just yet, I feel a little numb.

  He swallows hard and clears his throat. “Josh and I were fighting, and I pushed you, Riley. You got in the middle, and I was so angry, I don’t know what I was thinking. You hit your head, and a piece of glass just happened to be on the concrete where you fell. It’s my fault. I hurt you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He puts his head down on the bed, and his shoulders shake. I’m not sure, but I think he is crying.

  I remember the two of them fighting. I remember what he said. How mean he was to me. I remember it now as though a cloud has been lifted, and my vision is cleared. So why do I find myself lifting my hand and rubbing his hair? Why am I consoling someone I hate? That hates me.

  We stay this way for a moment before he lifts his head and pulls away. “I really made a mess of things. Didn’t I? I talked to Preslee this morning. I’m gonna have a baby, apparently. God, I’m such an asshole.”

  I nod my head, “This is true,” I say smiling. He is an asshole.

  He shakes his head and grins. “I’m sorry for the things I said last night and for being so irresponsible. That was stupid.”

  “It was. Were you drunk, Dean?”

  He nods slowly.

  I feel sick that my suspicions are correct. “I...um, I don’t want to sound vain, but I need to know. Were you drinking because of me?”

  He studies my eyes—I guess trying to figure out why I would care or ask that. I don’t want to be the reason for someone to make a decision as reckless as that. My mom was the reason my dad drove drunk. I just don’t want to be the reason.

  He lifts one shoulder and sighs. “I don’t know to be honest. I think yes, a little, but not completely. After you ran off, I knew I had deceived you in the worst way, and I pussied out by not giving you an explanation. I made it seem like you meant shit to me, and that isn’t true at all. When I saw Josh cradling you in his arms in the rain, I think my heart broke. You never looked at me. You never gave me a second thought. It killed me, and I just replayed years of longing for you, and you longing for him in my mind until I just needed it all to shut up. I drank a few beers, not a lot. I tried to call you, and then I called your house. Your sister told me you were at the movies with Josh. She was a little snotty about it, and I realized that even your family wants you with him. When I saw you with him—like everything was fucking perfect, I think for a brief second, I hated you.”

  He looks away and doesn’t say anything else. “I know you hate me, Dean. It’s okay because some days I hate me too—some days I hate you, as well. The thing is—with Josh, I don’t hate me as much.”

  His eyes dart back to mine and his whole demeanor deflates. “The thing is...for me, Riley. I don’t hate you at all. I never could. It would be easier if I could or did hate you, though. I should hate you. I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have, but it wasn’t out of hate, it was out of hurt. I know I fucked it all up, but I do care about you. I might even love you.” He swallows, “I must...to have gone through all this shit to just try and be with you…” He says rubbing his hand behind his neck.

  Love me? “Clarify. What do you mean all this shit?” I ask. Didn’t he put me through a bunch of shit?

  His eyes lock with mine, and I see a lot clouded within them. A silent storm brews behind them as though he has been hiding behind them for two years. “Ever since we were kids, I’ve wanted to be near you. Not just wanted, though. I needed to be near you. You smelled like strawberries, and your laugh was contagious—a laugh that was like a rope pulling me to you. I just really wanted to get to know you. You never did make that easy on me, you know? I had to work pretty damn hard to even be your friend, in the first place. As we grew older, my feelings for you changed, they shifted somehow without me realizing it. I began to notice things—things that I liked, a lot actually. You no longer smelled like strawberries, but I still loved the way you smelled when you were near me.”

  His eyes have been looking past me, through me, like he is somewhere else altogether. “I was a fool for trying, though.” He looks back to me like he is actually here with me again. “I couldn’t help it, though. I had to try.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat. He’s never talked to me like this or told me these things.

  “Try what?” I breathe.

  His expression doesn’t change—it’s flat and unreadable. “To get you to see me, too.”

  I inhale a deep breath and slowly release it. “I saw you. I was with you for two years, Dean.”

  He shakes his head. “No, you weren’t. Not really. You may have been my girlfriend, Riley, but you were never mine. I never had your heart. You saw him. It was always him for you. I knew that. That is why I say I was a fool for trying. I knew it w
as a matter of time. It wasn’t an, ‘if’ you left me for him, it was a ‘when’. It was going to happen. I knew it from the start.”

  He stares at my eyes studying them, and he lets his hand grab the curl like he always did, like he can’t help but do so now. He begins twirling it around his finger mesmerized by the movement. He drops it and looks into my eyes again.

  “I thought if we had sex, if you and I took that next step...that somehow you would connect with me. It wasn’t about the sex really, though. I wasn’t just a horny bastard,” he laughs. “Well, I was...but it was more than that, too. I thought that maybe I could seal us together. Give you and me something that only we had shared together. You and Josh already shared the rest, the stuff I couldn’t have with you.”

  My mouth falls open. “But Dean, you and I wouldn’t have been the only one to share that together. You were sharing with a lot of girls. I think I understand what you’re saying, but I’m glad we didn’t go there.”

  “Me too,” he says flatly.

  “Huh? But you just said— ,”

  “I know what I said. It would have been a mistake. You don’t belong with me. Like I said, I think I’ve always known that.”

  I stare at him unable to form any words to reply. I don’t really know what to say.

  “It’s okay, Riley. You don’t have to say anything. The more I thought about it, the more I see the things I tried not to see…like how you would look at me confused sometimes. You would go somewhere in your head that I couldn’t reach. I think you even asked yourself sometimes why you were with me, huh?”

  I go to open my mouth. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.” I shut my mouth, and he frowns. “Look, I’m gonna leave town for a little bit, go clear my head.”

  I nod, “But what about school? You can’t drop out.”

  “I’m not dropping out…just taking a few days. I’ll be back for the last week. I won’t be far…just not around here. Anyway...I’m sorry. I really am. Guess I need to get my shit together since I’m gonna be a dad and all that,” he says without enthusiasm.

  “I don’t really know what to say to that, Dean.” I really don’t. He cheated on me and got someone pregnant. Saying ‘Congratulations’ just doesn’t seem appropriate. I don’t know how to feel about any of it right now. I was upset, and then I became angry, and now I feel numb, but the nicer side of me feels sorry for Dean.

  So, I tell him what I think I can say that makes sense to me. “I’m sorry too, Dean. You’re right. My heart was always with, Josh. I shouldn’t have used you like that. I think I never really realized I was. Either way, we both fucked up, right?” I rub my temple, which is beginning to hurt again. I feel a little dizzy, but it passes.

  “Are you okay?” he asks concerned. He appears worried, and as if he is fighting the urge to touch me again.

  “I am. Just dizzy, but I’m good. I’m tired, though.” I admit, feeling sleepy again.

  “Okay, I’ll go.” He stands, hesitating for a moment before he leans down and kisses my cheek.

  My heart flutters a little, and I think that without trying to, without meaning to, and even if just as a friend, he had a piece of my heart—a piece that I wasn’t even aware until just now that I had given to him.

  He opens his mouth and shuts it, obviously wanting to say something.

  “Just say it,” I demand.

  He glances at the door and then looks at me. “I know you’re happy with him, but what happens when he leaves for Louisiana?” he asks with all seriousness.

  “What? What are you talking about?” I feel panicked. Josh has never told me he was going to Louisiana.

  He sighs, “I guess even the reason for your smile holds deceit. Josh and Collin signed letters of intent with LSU back in February. I’m surprised you didn’t know. That was months ago.”

  Now, it’s my turn to open and shut my mouth. The last time Josh and I had discussed college was in February, the night he’d found me at the cemetery, after I ran off and skipped school. He told me that he hadn’t made a decision. At least, that’s what I thought. But he had? I try to remember the conversation word for word. It’s just hard because I was so stuck in my own damn head of misery that night. Shit!

  I’m looking at the door where I know Josh is just on the other side of it, and like he knows my thoughts are on him, the door opens, and he walks in. My eyes lock with the hazel ones I love most in the world, wondering yet again if they hold a secret. He looks between Dean and me with curiosity but doesn’t speak.

  I turn to look at Dean and hate that I see a moment of satisfaction on his face. He has succeeded at once again putting doubts in my head. Dean looks at me, shrugging. “It’s something to think about. Maybe you need a Plan B,” and then he leaves.

  What the fuck? A plan B?

  Josh is really quiet after Dean leaves. He doesn’t ask many questions, even though I can see them in his eyes when he looks at me. He sits in the chair near the window watching me intently the entire time I eat the shitty hospital food. I can’t read him. I just know things are on his mind, and he wants to ask but doesn’t. Words sit unsaid inside of him.

  My mom agrees to let him take me home instead of her. She needs to run some errands, and he is pretty insistent that he be the one to take care of me anyway. It makes me smile. He always takes care of me, even when I’m pushing him away, he’s there for me.

  So, here we are—him covering me with a throw blanket on the couch, and holding my head in his lap while he flips through the television. “Are you comfortable?” he asks, as he gently runs his fingers up and down my arms.

  “Very,” I answer with a deep contented sigh leaving my lips. He doesn’t say anything in response. He just places a soft kiss to my forehead and leans back into the couch. He’s still more quiet than usual. It bothers me, but I’m so comfortable here with him like this, that I ignore the urge to ask him. I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I remember is opening my eyes to find I’m alone on the couch. A waft of something yummy hits my nose—spaghetti and garlic bread—my stomach immediately growls in response.

  I sit up and stretch my limbs. I walk into the kitchen, and freeze when I see Josh helping my mom cook. It’s so cute. I stand unnoticed for a few minutes while I watch them. My heart grows warmer and more his with each second that passes. He stirs the sauce, and then holds the colander for her as she drains the pasta in the sink. She puts the pasta back into the pot and carries it back to the stove, where he pours the sauce in and mixes it together. While he’s getting the plates from the cabinet, she gets the bread out of the oven. They do this while carrying on a friendly conversation and not noticing me in the doorway. It really is so completely adorable. I hear the front door chime as Tatum and Joey walk in. Of course. The heads in the kitchen turn to the doorway where I’m no longer eavesdropping and unseen.

  I must have a goofy grin on my face because Josh lifts a brow, and tilts his head to the side examining me. We just stare stupidly at each other for a few seconds before he walks to me and kisses my cheek. “Hi, sleepyhead,” he says cheerfully.

  “Hi, chef,” I joke and lift onto my tippy toes to kiss his cheek in return.

  His shy smile is freaking adorable, and that dimple makes it sexy. “I’m just helping your mom. It’s no biggie,” he says grabbing my hand and guiding me to the table.

  No biggie my ass. That was the sweetest thing ever.

  Dinner is nice, and Josh’s dad actually comes over as well, so we can all eat together. Something about that warms my heart, as well. It is like we are a joined family already.

  After dinner, Josh’s dad and my mom are in the living room talking about work stuff. Josh and I are in the kitchen cleaning up, and of course, the brats run off to Tater’s room. It feels so normal the way we are all together like this.

  “Thank you for helping my mom with dinner. That was really nice of you,” I tell him as I load the last plate into the dishwasher while Josh wipes off the counter tops and table
.

  He glances back at me with a smile. “Really, it was nothing. I just wanted to help her.” His eyes look a little melancholy, and it makes me wonder if he used to do that sort of thing with his mom, back when she was alive.

  “Did you used to help your mom?” I ask my thought out loud. Shit, that was probably stupid.

  He smiles wistfully and walks to put the dishtowel in the sink. He turns and rests his back against the counter as he wraps his hands around my waist, pulling me toward him. “Yeah, she always let Jo and me help in the kitchen. I’m not that good, but Joey is. She learned a lot from her.” He looks down into my eyes, tucking my hair behind my ear.

  I hook my fingers in his belt loops as I look up at him. “I think you are amazing,” I say truthfully.

  “Is that so?” He asks in that flirty voice he reserves for me, with that sexy-as-hell-smirk of his in place.

  I nod just as a yawn creeps its way out of my mouth. So much for flirty—I have just botched that. I’m so sleepy all of a sudden, though. This side effect is one I could do without. I really don’t like sleeping so much. It leads to dreams and dreams lead to nightmares.

  “C’mon, let’s get you all tucked into bed,” he grabs my hand and pecks my mouth.

  I’d whine and complain, but I am so tired. Instead, I just follow him to my room. I’m already dressed in my running shorts and a t-shirt. I’m sure I look like a slob, but I’m comfy. I climb into my bed and get under my covers. Josh sits down next to me, and the look in his hazel eyes is full of love and tenderness. He brushes the hair out of my eyes. “Are you feeling okay? Does your head hurt?”

  I roll to where my head is in his lap. He gently plays with my hair. “I’m okay. It hurts a little, but it’s more like a dull throb. It will go away soon,” I tell him. Actually, it hurts quite a bit—like a motherfucking headache from hell to be honest, but having him near me makes me feel better.

  He sighs. “I’m really sorry this happened to you,” he whispers. The tone in his voice is laced with sadness and remorse. I scoot up on the bed, rest my head on his shoulder and look into his eyes. I smooth the line his frown has made on his forehead.