Running From Forever

by Ashley Wilcox

  Copyright © 2013 by Ashley Wilcox

  Smashwords Edition 2013

  ***

  Running From Forever

  Copyright © 2013 by Ashley Wilcox

  Smashwords Edition 2013

  Edited by Erin Roth, Wise Owl Editing

  Cover Design by B Designs

  Formatting by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  All rights reserved.

  ***

  Prologue

  PART ONE-Kayla

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  PART TWO-Merrick

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  PART THREE-Miles

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Trevor,

  I’m sorry to have to leave this in a note, but I have to. Not because I can’t say this to your face, but because my train leaves before you get home. I’d call you, but I don’t want to ruin your workday. Anyway, I can’t stay. I have to go. I’m not who you think I am—not even close. I’ve thought about your proposal and I just can’t say yes. I can’t say yes when we don’t have the same outlook. I’m not ready to settle down and have a family and everything that goes with it. I know that’s what you want and yes, you should have it—you deserve it—I just can’t give it to you. That’s not what I want.

  I don’t want you to think I don’t love you, because I do—I always have. From the moment we met freshman year, I knew you’d be the one that could tame me—to make me settle down with one person—and you have. Well, until now. The last three and a half years have been wonderful. I loved every minute of it, but I have to go. I have to move on and do the things that I’ve always dreamt of doing.

  I’ve accepted a job at a broadcasting company in the city. I start tomorrow. I actually just found out about it. They hired me on the spot. I was going to tell you last night, but then...well, I didn’t have the heart to after I didn’t respond to your proposal. I was speechless and didn’t know what to do. Now you know why. I’m sorry. I suck at this. I suck at goodbyes.

  I really wish the best for you, Trev. You really deserve to find someone wonderful and that will make you happy. I’m just not a fairytale ending kind of girl and deep down I think you know that. I hope. Okay, I’m going to stop rambling. I just feel rotten for doing this, but I love you, Trev. I always will.

  Love,

  Kayla

  ***

  ***

  My gut clenched as I boarded my train and heard the squealing as it started to move along the rails. It was in that moment that I had to take a deep breath and remember my reasoning; I had to refresh my memory. I wasn’t just leaving. I needed to leave. So many mornings I would stand in the shower wondering what I was doing and why I was there. It wasn’t who I dreamed of being. It wasn’t the life I always pictured myself living.

  Since I was a little girl wearing pigtails and eating popsicles, I wanted to be an entertainment news anchorwoman; I wanted to sit on one of those high stools in front of cameras giving everyone the 411 on the rich and famous. Sure, not everyone dreamt of being the gossip source for millions of Americans, but it was my deepest wish. I dreamt it. I wanted to be that person. Now I had a degree in journalism to support my dream, but I wouldn’t be able to do anything with it in Cortland. I could maybe get a job with a local news channel, but I didn’t want to be chasing crime scenes or interviewing random do-gooders. Not that there was anything wrong with good deeds, reporting on them just wasn’t my passion. Not to mention, the chances of me getting that job was slim to none anyway, coming straight from college. Believe it or not, living in a small town with minimal job opportunities, the “good” ones were already snatched by people three times my age—seasoned reporters.

  I had a breakthrough moment last week fresh from the shower, my hair still wet and wrapped in a towel. I opened my laptop and pulled up the want ads for New York City. Looking for jobs in New York was crazy and a complete long shot, but also filled my body with so much adrenaline that I couldn’t stop and I found a few that I applied for. One called me back, conducting two phone interviews before giving me the position, requesting that I start that Monday. There was no turning back then. The words “absolutely” slipped from my mouth before I had a second to realize what I was doing. I was signing on the invisible line, agreeing to leave everything I had in Cortland to board a train to The City That Never Sleeps.

  My studio apartment wasn’t anything great and a little smaller than the pictures suggested, but it didn’t matter. I was in the heart of the city and Times Square was my backyard. In my mind, paradise. It had all the essentials—kitchen, bathroom, and a place to sleep. What else does one person really need? Nothing. That’s all I cared to have. It may not have been close to the size of the two bedroom, one and a half bath that Trevor and I used to share, but it was a small price to pay for living in Manhattan at a price I was willing and able to pay.

  As I stood, getting a view of the entire place just by standing in the middle, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was here. I left. I chased my dream…all the way to The Big Apple, but as happy as I appeared, the tug on my heart and the emptiness in my chest told me I wasn’t complete. I was alone. It wasn’t something I was a stranger to, but something I hadn’t been in a while. For most of my life I was alone. Not as literally as I was now, but figuratively speaking, I raised myself. I never had a mother who cared and my father passed away when I was ten after a freak accident at work. I had my sister, but she was younger than me; it was basically me that raised her all the while raising myself. I had Trevor for a while, but now I’m back to just me. Flying solo in one of the biggest cities in the world.

  I took another deep breath and reminded myself again why I was here—why I made the decision I did. I needed a fresh start, a way to start over—get away from the stigma. I was loose. Very loose—I had no respect for my body. To be frank, I was a slut. Definitely not something I was proud of, but the truth. It wasn’t until I met Trevor that I realized what I was doing. I was filling a void, making myself feel something I never had growing up. Needed. Wanted. Worth something. It may not have been love, but it was something. I felt something with those guys.

  As my relationship with Trevor progressed and people noticed that I was actually staying with one person instead of going home from parties with random guys or getting random booty calls at all hours of the night, the judgments seemed to fade and respect started to grow, but my past, who I was, was never forgotten
. I actually thought everyone was just waiting for me to cheat, for me to get bored, for me to go back to my old ways. Some probably still think that now and believe that’s why I left. But it’s the opposite. I left to be someone new; to become the person I always dreamt of becoming. I left to start fresh in a city that didn’t know me. In a city I could be myself. In a city I could stop running from my demons. A place where I didn’t have to settle or pretend to be somebody I wasn’t. Here, away from my old life, I would become a successful businesswoman and meet important people. I would become the real me.

  I might be physically alone, but I was still me and I wasn’t completely lost. I still had Leah, my best friend from college. Even though she and her fiancé moved away to New Jersey the moment their diplomas were in hand, she was my go-to person—my voice of reason—and I knew she’d continue to be as supportive as ever. Feeling the need to talk to her, I picked up my cell phone and dialed her number. A smile spread across my face just hearing her voice. In some ways, Leah was a sister to me, as well.

  “Hey, K. Are you there yet?”

  “Yup, I’m here.”

  “Why do you sound sad then?”

  I sighed. My happy exterior may be enough for others to think I was okay, but not Leah. She knew me way better than that. “I don’t know,” I breathed out in an exasperated breath while beginning to pace the room. “I don’t know if it’s because I’m here by myself, or the anxiety of starting a new job, or that I feel bad about how I left Trevor…I don’t know.” Finally plopping down on my overstuffed chair, I concluded, “I just feel off—weird. Ya know?

  “Yeah, I get it. I felt that way when we moved into our house. Matt was off doing his football stuff while the movers were bringing everything in. After they left, it was just me, standing in the middle of this new, huge house, by myself. It’s kind of like a ‘what now’ feeling.”

  Oh, I forgot to mention, Leah was filthy rich now. Her fiancé was Matthew Jacobs, first string wide receiver for the New York Jets. He signed with them the spring of our senior year, making this season his first football season with them.

  “Yeah, I think that’s it; like what do I do now? I did everything I wanted to do, but now I have no clue what to do with myself.”

  She snickered. “You have your dream, but feel lost.”

  I snickered back. “Yup.”

  “The good thing is, it’s temporary. You’ll get settled. You’ll meet new people. You’ll find your way. The Kayla Reynolds I know should have no problem branching out.”

  My chest clenched and I didn’t respond. I had a feeling she’s was referencing the old Kayla—the pre-Trevor Kayla.

  “You there?” she asked, sounding confused.

  “Yeah,” I responded quietly. “I’m here.”

  And then the light bulb went off… “Wait, no! That’s not what I meant,” she was quick to say. “I meant that you’re outgoing, fun, contagious. You’re someone people can’t help but love.” She paused, her tone becoming more sympathetic. “Kayla, I know you’re not that person anymore.”

  I changed the topic, needing to talk about something different. I wasn’t big on dwelling and ready to move forward. “So when are you coming to visit me?” She didn’t live that far from where I was now; they were in East Rutherford, not too far from the Metlife Stadium where Matt played.

  “I think in a couple of weeks, actually,” she said with enthusiasm. “Matt is going to be gone for an away game.”

  “You’re not going?” I asked, shocked, knowing Leah never missed a game no matter where it was.

  “No. It’s not a real game. I don’t really know, to tell you the truth. But I passed it up. It’s a quick trip—I didn’t need to go.”

  “So you’re going to come visit me instead?!” I sat up in my chair, overly excited. It’d been so long since I’d seen her.

  “I was planning on it. If you don’t have plans, of course.”

  I chuckled. “Um, no. Can’t say that I do.”

  “Good! I can’t wait to come. I haven’t been to the city in forever.”

  “It’s so awesome—we’ll have so much fun!” The thrilled tone in my voice was apparent. I couldn’t wait for her to visit and for us to explore the city together.

  “Alright friend, I’ve gotta get going. Matt’s going to be home soon and I haven’t even showered yet. I’m glad you’re all settled and don’t forget to call me after your first day tomorrow!”

  I had to ask the question that was weighing in my gut and blurted it out before she could hang up. “Do you think I should call Trevor…explain?”

  There was a stunned silence. “Uhhh…I don’t know. Not yet, I think. He probably just read your note. Give it some time. This is why you shouldn’t have told him through a letter—I knew you’d feel bad,” she tsked like a mother scolding a child.

  I let out an exhausted breath. “Yeah, I know, but I froze last night. I just couldn’t say it—not when he was down on one knee.”

  “No, I know. I get it, and I’m sure he does too. Maybe not yet, but I’m sure eventually.” She paused again. “I think calling him now will just make things worse, ya know?”

  Although she didn’t make me feel any better about the situation, I understood. I had to float in my guilt a little longer. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “Alright, I really have to go now. Don’t worry about it. It’s done. It’s over. You did what was best and now it’s time to get back your life. Do what makes you happy.”

  With a smile tugging at my lips, I happily answered, “Yeah. It’s definitely time.” I nodded my head, agreeing even though she couldn’t see me. “I’ll talk to you later. Thanks, Lee.”

  “Anytime,” she replied before we both said goodbye to each other and hung up.

  Resting my phone on my chest, I leaned back in my chair and tilted my head up to the ceiling, smiling. I felt bad about Trevor, but it was Kayla time now. It was time to live the life I always dreamt of living.

  ***

  My alarm clock sounded thirty minutes before I technically needed to be up. Though I wasn’t normally an early riser and I had already timed out my morning commute last night, it was my first day at my new job in a city I wasn’t familiar with.

  I was nervous. Excited. But nervous.

  Everything was waiting for me when I woke: clothes over my chair, jewelry on the counter, and coffee brewing in the pot. I had everything ready, I just needed to get ready. When finished, I fit the part. I looked like a professional right out of a business magazine wearing a black pinstriped skirt, cream silk sleeveless blouse, pearl earrings and necklace, all finished with black wedged heels. My hair was pulled back into a clean, sleek bun, my makeup was simple, and I felt every inch a businesswoman.

  As I smoothed my outfit down with my hands, I sighed a relaxing breath. This was exactly who I wanted to be; business from top to bottom, nothing like I was in Cortland. The blonde-haired, blue-eyed, sorority bimbo was nowhere to be seen.

  Picking my purse of the couch, I did one last once over in front of the mirror before checking my watch—it was time to get going. Following the route I did the previous night, I locked my door, took the elevator down to the main floor, and said a friendly goodbye to the older woman behind the front desk before flagging down a taxi outside. A wave of excitement rippled throughout my body—I was a true New Yorker now—almost like the movies, but instead of walking out of my multimillion dollar, swanky high rise apartment, I was leaving a borderline sketchy studio apartment with an ancient desk lady. I smiled to myself, though…maybe someday.

  The older gentleman behind the wheel glanced over his shoulder, looking back at me after I shut the door. “Where to?” he asked, smiling a quirky grin that revealed a chipped tooth. It was going to take some getting used to, riding in a car with a total stranger. Although he didn’t seem as sketchy as most of the cabbies I’d had so far…refreshing.

  “Times Square, please,” I politely responded, gulping back the dry feeling in my mouth. I
didn’t realize that I hadn’t been swallowing. Nerves?

  “Times Square isn’t tiny, Miss. What’s the address?”

  My gut turned uneasy, and anxiety rose. I didn’t know the address. The driver last night hadn’t asked, and I never thought to write it down. “Um, I don’t know,” I told him in a shaky tone. “I work at ETV.”

  With just a friendly nod, he turned forward and shifted down into drive. I guess that answer was sufficient. Relieved, I took another cleansing breath. I managed to jump my first hurdle with no injury. New and improved Kayla: one. Epic failure: zero.

  “Hi, I’m Kayla Reynolds. I’m the new assistant for Connie Walters,” I told the woman at reception.

  The building seemed secure. You had to have a badge to get by the front entrance. Since it was my first day, I didn’t have one of those. I imagined it would be part of the first day paperwork.

  “Good morning,” she said absently, then looked over the top of her glasses and smiled at me. She typed something onto her keyboard, probably bringing my name up in the computer. “Yes, I see you under Connie’s name. I just need to see some photo ID, please.”

  “Yes, of course.” I smiled back while fishing my wallet from my purse. I couldn’t believe how nervous I was. My hands were shaking and my heart beat was so erratic that I feared I’d have a heart attack. “Here you go,” I continued once I finally retrieved my license and placed it on the counter in front of her.

  She smiled, appearing not to notice my borderline anxiety attack before placing it in a scanner. I took a deep breath. I needed to calm myself down. This was all normal procedure; it wasn’t like she was doing a complete background check on me, which that shouldn’t make a difference either—I was squeaky clean—I’d never done anything illegal… I should rephrase that: I’ve never gotten in trouble for anything.