Imperfect Love Story

by Rachael Brownell

  “We won’t run out of gas, that’s the point. I’ll drop you off at the garage on my way through town, grab gas and then head home.”

  Shaking his head at me, Wyatt turns up the volume and rolls down his window. It’s cooled down since we left Denver, the air sending a chill down my spine as it blows my hair into my eyes. Wyatt reaches over, brushes the hair away from my face, and tucks it behind my ear. Looking over at him, I smile, my heart full of emotions. Full of love.

  My first love.

  The one I’ll never forget.

  The man I plan to marry one day and spend the rest of my life with.

  Ten months ago, I was unhappy. I was in a relationship I knew was headed nowhere. All for appearances’ sake. To keep my parents happy. And, if I’m being honest with myself, so I didn’t feel lonely. It seems silly when I think about it now.

  All the time I wasted on Josh, the year we spent together, is a blip on the radar now. I knew I’d never love him, but I also had no idea this is what love would feel like when I finally found it.

  Those happy thoughts fade away as I pull my car over to the side of the road while Wyatt shakes his head at me. He’s too much of a gentleman to say, “I told you so,” but I can see it on his face. He’s never been good at hiding his thoughts from me.

  “I’ll call Willy,” he offers, opening his door and stepping out into the darkness.

  The sunset was beautiful tonight, illuminating the sky over the mountains are shades of purple, blue and red. Once the sun crossed the horizon, hours ago, we were blanketed in darkness, our only light source coming from the stars and the headlights of sporadic cars as they passed by.

  “He’ll be here in less than twenty minutes. He has to head back to the shop first.”

  “We’re not that far out. I bet we could walk into town and be back before he gets here,” I suggest, the only thing on my mind the fact that I’m going to be in trouble when I get home.

  “Call your parents, Chloe. If you explain, they won’t be mad. Plus, now you have an excuse as to why you’re late.”

  “No, I don’t. Running out of gas doesn’t account for two hours and you know it.”

  “Well, if you tell them what we were doing for two hours…” Wyatt wiggles his eyebrows at me until I swat him in the chest.

  “Not a chance. My father would kill you.”

  “No, he wouldn’t. He doesn’t like to get his hands dirty. He might pay to have someone kill me, though.”

  He’s right. I’ve never seen my father gets his hands dirty. He’s great at bossing people around, though. With more than fifty people working the land for him, making sure he has the most pristine cattle in the entire state, he has plenty to keep him busy without actually doing any work.

  My father’s made a name for himself in Fairview. He’s worth as much as the rest of the town combined. He’s been known to employ anyone who needs a job, generously helping people in need. A kind man until you cross him, everyone wants to stay on his good side.

  Joseph Warren. From farmhand to the owner of the largest cattle farm in two-hundred miles. A man who’s worked hard for everything he has. Just ask him, he’ll tell you all about it. Because the one thing my father is not is humble.

  He’s also not forgiving.

  And when it comes to his only daughter, he’s overprotective and irrational.

  As we wait for Willy, the darkness of night surrounding us, I pray no one drives by and sees us sitting here. The last thing I want is for him to hear about this. When he finds out about my relationship with Wyatt, I want it to come from me.

  “You know, Miss Chloe, things have changed around here since you’ve been gone. Not just the town either.”

  “I’m sure they have,” I reply. I don't want to hear how things have changed. I don't want to hear about Wyatt. I don't think my heart will be able to handle it.

  “When Kent died—”

  “What?” I ask, my head whipping in Willy’s direction at the mention of Kent. The man who showed me nothing but genuine kindness. He accepted me for who I was and was happy his son had found someone that loved him the way I did.

  “You didn’t know?”

  No, I didn’t know. How would I? I left his place and didn’t look back. I was forced to focus on my future, and this place and everyone in it were part of my past.

  “I’m so sorry, Willy.”

  “It’s been almost five years now.” There’s a sadness in his voice as it trails off, the pain still real for him after all this time.

  He lets the conversation drop, finishes filling my tank, and after one long hug, sends me on my way.

  Five years. It must have happened right after I left.

  The guilt creeps in as I pull back on the road. Guilt over not being here for him. Over leaving him when I should have stayed.

  Why didn’t I fight harder? I should have, I could have, but I didn’t.

  Before the guilt can pass, shame rushes in. The shame of listening to my parents. Of letting them dictate my life for the last five years. Mostly, the shame of not being here when he needed me.

  3

  Five

  Five years.

  More days than I want to add up.

  When I left, I was instructed to stay away. Don’t look back, my mother said. Only good things lie ahead, and looking back would keep me from achieving everything I wanted out of life.

  She was wrong.

  The first year was the hardest. Everywhere I turned, I saw him. Everything reminded me of him, of the trip we took together. The time we shared together that summer. The one night that changed the rest of our lives.

  Wyatt was my life, and then my parents ripped me from him.

  All it took was one misstep and it was over for us. Once they found out about him, they made sure it was over between us. They didn’t care about the circumstances. In their eyes, he had destroyed my life, my future. They cared more about their reputation than how I felt. They always have and still do to this day.

  Per my mother’s instructions, I’m to come home for her birthday celebration and then head back to Denver. No detours. No pit stops. No fooling around.

  As if I could face him after all this time.

  The secrets I’ve kept from him will come to light one day, but it won’t be this weekend. It can’t be. I’m not ready to confess all my sins. Five years may be a long time, but it still feels like too soon, yet too late to ask for forgiveness.

  Some things are beyond forgiveness and this secret is guaranteed to be one of them.

  Shit! Shit! Shit!

  This can’t be right. We were so careful. My parents are going to kill me. Wyatt’s going to be pissed. I’m pissed at myself.

  How did I let this happen?

  I’m not ready. I’m only eighteen.

  “Chloe!” my mom hollers from down the hall. “Breakfast.”

  Pull it together Chloe, I say to myself, looking in the mirror.

  You can do this.

  You can do anything.

  You’re strong.

  Washing away the tears, I apply a fresh coat of foundation, take a deep breath and slide the tiny test into the back of the drawer. The truth will be hidden in that drawer until I find a way to tell Wyatt. Until we have time to figure out what we’re going to do.

  “There she is,” my father says, smiling at me before returning his attention to the paper.

  “What took you so long? Are you not feeling well?” my mother asks, a look of concern on her face. “You look a little peaked, honey.”

  “I’m fine, mom. My stomach is just a little off this morning.”

  As the words leave my mouth, Carmen sets a plate of eggs in front of me. The smell causes my stomach to turn and I sprint to the bathroom, expelling the contents of my stomach just as I reach the toilet.

  My mother is next to me, holding a cool washcloth to my forehead when I sit back up.

  “I think you should go back to bed,” she declares, helping me to my feet without
removing the washcloth.

  I can’t stay home. I need to meet Wyatt. I sent him a message this morning. He’s waiting for me by the pond right now. I need to tell him. It’s the right thing to do.

  We only have two weeks to figure everything out. There’s no time to waste.

  “I’m fine now, Mom. I swear,” I say, brushing her hands away.

  “Chloe Grace, you listen to me. You are going back to bed. You need rest. You leave for school in a few weeks and I need you to be healthy.”

  Giving in, I head into my room and crawl under the covers. I’ll wait until she leaves to sneak out my window and meet Wyatt. I just need to send him a message that I’m running late.

  Reaching for my phone, I hear my mom scream.

  “Chloe Grace Warren!”

  Full name. What the hell did I do? She never uses my full name. Unless…

  Turning, I find my mother standing in the doorway to my bedroom, waving the tiny stick around in the air.

  I’m screwed.

  “What is this?”

  Closing my eyes, I prepare myself for battle. If I lie, the truth will come out eventually and things will be worse for me. If I tell the truth, my chances of her being understanding are better. Not great, but better. If there’s one thing my parents hate, it’s being lied to.

  The hard part about telling them the truth now is that they still don’t know about Wyatt.

  I tried to tell them once. Months ago. I knew they wouldn’t understand, that they wouldn’t approve of him, but I tried. I even mentioned him by name. They were less than enthusiastic about me hanging out with a boy from the “wrong side of town.”

  That was the last time I mentioned him.

  “It’s a pregnancy test, Mom.” My sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed. Her face contorts from anger to rage. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why is there a pregnancy test hidden in your makeup drawer?”

  “Why were you in my makeup drawer?”

  “Looking for medicine. That’s not the point. Why do you have this and why does it show two lines?”

  “Because I’m pregnant, that’s why. Because I fell in love with a boy and even with as careful as we were, I’m pregnant.”

  “Joseph!”

  Taking a seat on my bed as I wait for my father to answer my mother’s call, I plan my escape. My phone chimes across the room.

  Wyatt.

  He’s probably wondering where I am.

  My mother reaches for my phone and slides her finger across the screen.

  “Who is Wyatt and why is he waiting for you? Is he the one responsible for this?” she asks, waving the test around again, making me wish I hadn’t rinsed it off after the results came through.

  “What’s that, Bev?” my father asks, stepping up next to my mother.

  “Your daughter’s pregnant!” she screams at the top of her lungs.

  Slowly turning his head in my direction, there’s a look of disbelief on my father’s face. Disbelief followed by disappointment and then finally his face mirrors my mother’s in anger.

  The next hour of my life passes the slowest. After receiving a lecture, my parents formulate a plan for me, deciding the next five years of my life without asking me what I want. I’ll still go to college, but take the second semester off to have the baby. Carmen will join me in Denver to take care of the baby once it comes.

  Wyatt isn’t to be a part of the baby’s life. It’s a non-negotiable term for my parents. If they’re going to help me—and if I’m being honest with myself, I need their help—he can’t be around.

  The thought of leaving home, of raising a child on my own, scares the shit out of me. I’m not ready to be a parent. I’m not ready for the responsibility.

  Ready or not… this isn’t a choice.

  My knees start to bounce, the need to run becoming overwhelming.

  As I push my chair back from the table, I hear my parent’s words echo through my head.

  “It’s for the best, Chloe.” My father’s stern voice says more than his words ever could. I’m not being given the option, this is the final decision.

  “He can’t give you the life you deserve.”

  My mother is less charismatic when it comes to things. She says what she thinks, no matter how it comes across.

  Looking over my shoulder at them, I see the disappointment in their eyes and all rational thoughts float away.

  “You don’t know him. You have no idea what kind of life he could provide for us. All you care about is how this will make you look. Your darling daughter, unwed and pregnant. How dare I scar the family name, right? Well, I’m sorry, but this is not your decision to make. This is between me and Wyatt. He doesn’t even know about the baby and you haven’t even given him a chance.”

  “He doesn’t need to know, Chloe. If you want our help, if you want to go to college and have a chance at a better life, you won’t tell him. You’ll go in your room, pack your belongings and forget about this boy.” Standing from the table, my father walks to where I am and grips my arm as he speaks. “This isn’t up for discussion.”

  Pulling my arms from his grasp, I run to my room and slam the door. Opening the window, I slide onto the roof of the porch and jump down, running across the open field and toward the pond as fast as my legs will carry me.

  There’s no sign of Wyatt when I finally arrive gasping for breath after sprinting the last mile. What I do find is a note and pen sitting on the bench he made for me.

  Chloe,

  I don’t know what’s wrong, but I waited as long as I could. Please call me.

  I love you,

  Wyatt

  Flipping the note over, I poise the pen to tell him everything. My parents’ plans. The fact that I have to leave. How to find me. But most importantly, that we’re pregnant.

  That’s not the kind of thing you leave in a note. A note that anyone might find if they wander along the right trail. My parents own this property, but that doesn’t keep people from coming down here to swim or hang out. The last thing I want is for someone else to tell him.

  My parents have already confiscated my phone. I don’t have the ability to call him later and explain things, so I write the only thing I can, knowing the two words may end up breaking him.

  Wyatt,

  I’m sorry.

  Chloe

  The little town of Fairview hasn’t changed as much as I thought it would. There’s a new hotel, a few bed and breakfasts along the main strip, and the McDonald’s looks like it’s been remodeled. Other than that, the same sad and worn building pass by as I slowly wind my way through the barren streets.

  This time of day, people are either at work or taking refuge indoors. The heat of summer is at its peak, and unless you enjoy sweating from places that shouldn’t be talked about, you seek an air-conditioned location to hang out at.

  As I pull up to the stoplight at the center of town, movement out of the corner of my eye grabs my attention. While I wait for the light to change, I watch as the banner for the annual Independence Day celebration is lifted high in the air and spread across the street. There’s a man in a suit, fanning himself with a stack of papers, directing the two men raising the banner.

  It takes the men a few minutes to level the banner before they tie it off. As they begin to descend their respective ladders, a horn blares behind me.

  Waving my apologies, I move forward, passing Heavenly Bakery and Fairview Tavern. As the town disappears behind me, I focus on the road ahead. Memories of summer nights spent wandering the streets, sneaking into R-rated movies with my friends and dancing in the middle of the park assault me.

  Good memories.

  An amazing time in my life that I won’t soon forget.

  What lies ahead of me is the only memory I’d like to forget. The last time I was in my parents’ house was the day they found out I was pregnant. Within hours of our little chat, I was on my way to Denver and told never to return. Never to bring my daughter here.

  Until last
week.

  Apparently my mother’s birthday is enough of an excuse for me to show my face in town again. More than likely, something else is going on, but I wasn’t about to question their invitation. As much as it scares me to be back, even after all this time, I knew the day would come.

  Five years.

  It feels like a lifetime and yet there are moments when it feels like it was only yesterday I stared out of the passenger window of my father’s car, watching as my life was changing before my eyes.

  I remember holding my stomach as we drove past Garrett’s, the realization that Wyatt would never know why I left. He would never know that we created a child together. He would never forgive me for keeping his child from him, for denying him the opportunity to be a father.

  But I wasn’t denying him, my parents were. At least, that’s what I’ve tried to convince myself of. Every time I look in her eyes, I see him. I see the life we planned for us. And all that convincing fails me.

  I should have been stronger.

  I should have fought harder.

  I’ve had the opportunity to try and make amends, but my fears have held me back.

  For five years.

  4

  Fear of Heights

  Pulling into my parents drive, my stomach sinks. As much as the town has changed, this place looks exactly the same. Right down to the color of the rose bushes my mother planted out front the summer I started high school.

  The only addition is the slew of cars and trucks parked along the one-lane driveway, in the grass dangerously close to my mother’s precious bushes. They have company at the moment and by the looks of it, a lot of company. There are two catering trucks and a van from Heavenly Bakery.

  Carefully navigating my way around, I pull up and park outside the garage that used to be for my car. Shutting off the engine, I sit and stare up at the house for a moment.

  Two stories.

  Elaborate for a farmhouse. I used to tease my mother that Better Homes and Gardens wasn’t interested in coming all this way to look at our house. She’d scoff at me and wave her hand in the air, redecorating a new room or planting new flowers the following week.