I know you’re thinking the worst of me right now and I promise you that’s not the case. I swear I didn’t cheat on you. I want to explain. But a letter won’t do, it’s too much. Or, better yet, too important.
I won’t pressure you to talk to me though. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here… waiting. I’ve walked away from you before. I won’t be mad if you walk away from me this time, but you should know why I made my choices six years ago before you make yours.
I never stopped loving you,
Christian
CHRISTIAN
I twist and turn in bed. I grab my phone from under my pillow and look at the time. It’s 6:15 am. I haven’t gotten any sleep and don’t have time to keep trying, not that it would work anyway. My mind is running a million miles a minute thinking of what I can do to get Amari back… if there’s a chance.
After dropping Amari off last night, I went back to where her car was parked. It took all of five minutes to figure out what was wrong with it. I jumpstarted her car after realizing her battery had given out. I would’ve gone out and bought her a new battery if there was anything open.
Instead, all I could do was drive her car back to her house. All her lights were off and I swear I had this desire to go back to old times. To climb up the tree and knock on her window. I’d beg her to let me in and pray things could go back to what they were before. I wanted nothing more than to hold her in my arms and wipe away the tears I was the cause of. I wanted nothing more than to feel her lips on mine once again. The lips I haven’t tasted in six years… in too long.
As I walked back to where my car was on the side of the road, my mind was like a movie replaying all the times I spent with Amari. It was like a film full of highlight worthy moments. Everything was great from the moment she entered the picture. My movie, without her as a character, was dark and confusing as hell. I was destructive back then. She calmed the storm that brewed inside of me. The volcano that erupted often and ruined everything around him.
I was afraid I’d ruin her, but she had this ability within herself, something she didn’t even know she had, to change me. I became a different person because of Amari. Sadly, the decisions I made before her followed me and ultimately spilled over into the new version of me I had built with her.
I got to my house an hour later and just sat there thinking about all of my choices. The thing is, if I could have made any of them differently, I wouldn’t because it would mean I wouldn’t have Ari.
As shitty as things were, I wouldn’t trade my daughter away for anything.
But, man, would it have been amazing to have had Ari with Amari.
I was so frustrated with myself that I couldn’t sleep. I looked out the window waiting for the rain to stop and when it did, at 3 am, I decided to write Amari a letter.
I decided to offer her a ride to work, hoping she wouldn’t turn me down. I need to explain everything to her, not only because I want her back, but because she deserves at least that. I drove over to her house and placed the letter on her windshield at 4:30 am. I hope it makes a difference.
Getting up from my bed, I hit the shower and get ready for work. Looking down at my watch, I see that it’s 7:00 am. Amari still lives in her parents’ old house, which is only a few minutes away from the house I bought for my daughter and me. I guess I wanted to be close enough to her just in case she came back. I never thought she would, her parents told me as much when I asked them.
Heading downstairs, I pour the newly brewed coffee into two travel mugs then I head out the door. As I drive toward Amari’s house, I’m preparing myself for the very real possibility that she’s no longer there. That she figured out another way to get to work. That she realized I wasn’t worth her time and my desire to explain things was too late. Ill timed.
I prepare myself for the feeling of loss to return. I’ve lost her, but I want her back… I just hope that after she hears me out, if she hears me out, she wants me too.
18
CHRISTIAN
I pull over right behind her car and a smile takes over my face. She didn’t try to drive it, that’s a good sign—it means she’s read my letter. I wait a few minutes past 7:15 and then get out of my truck. Heading up her stairs, I ring the doorbell to the left of the front door and wait for her to answer.
When she doesn’t come out, I ring the bell again three minutes later. The result is the same. Heading back to my truck, I sit there until its 7:40 waiting for any sign that she’s still inside.
I get out of my truck a few more times, walking back and forth between her front door and my truck, and then realize that it’s no use. She’s not here. I knew this was the most likely scenario; I had to beg her to get in my car last night and it took forever, but I’m still hit with a pang of disappointment.
Work hard for the things you want, my mind reminds me. I want Amari to forgive me, I need her to. I’ll give her the time she needs. Putting my truck in drive, I head in the direction of the high school.
I decide to give my mom a call to make sure she got up this morning and is dropping Ari off at school. “Hi Mom, you awake?” I say the moment she picks up the phone.
“Yes I am.” I can imagine her shaking her head at me making sure she woke up for drop off.
“How’s Ari?” I ask.
“She’s having the last bit of her breakfast and then we’re headed to school.”
“Thank you. I’ll pick her up from your house after school at 6 pm?” I confirm our usual plans. I finish football practice at 5:30 today and will zip over to Mom’s after.
“That works. I offered to take her to buy the father-daughter dance dress, but she said she wants to go buy it with you.” Crap! With all the crazy things going on I’d forgotten about that dance.
“I’ll go with her after I pick her up,” I tell my mother. The father-daughter dance is next Sunday. Luckily, I’ve got a whole week to make sure she gets the dress of her dreams. In her mind, the dance will be like one of the balls that happen in princess movies and so I gotta do my best to match that.
“Great! I can come with if you need any help,” my mother offers.
“We’d love that!” I need all the help I can get. I can’t say I’m a professional when it comes to figuring out what Ari should wear. I’ll likely just get her whatever she wants. I think I need a suit too; I haven’t worn a suit since football games back in high school. I guess I’ll be needing a suit for away games now, so I may as well hit two birds with one stone.
“Alright, she’s done with breakfast, so off to school we go,” my mom tells me, rushing me off the phone.
“Great! See you guys later,” I tell her.
I hang up the phone and see the elementary school my daughter goes to on my right as I drive past it. All self-control goes out the window and I turn the car around and head back to the school. Pulling into the parking lot, I park my truck and slam my head on the steering wheel.
I shouldn’t be here. I should head back to work. Then again, it’s not like I have to be there super early. I don’t actually have to be in until a while later since I stay after school.
But getting there early won’t hurt since we have a game coming up in two weeks and I should be there preparing the game plan. Finalizing all details and positions.
You’ll have time, that can wait. The voice inside my head makes the decision easier for me and I turn the key on the ignition and shut off my truck. I step out of the vehicle and start making my way to the front door of the school.
I pause in my tracks when I realize I need an excuse, though I know she’ll see right through it. Heading back to my truck, I look in the back seat and see my daughter’s crayon box next to her car seat. Perfect.
Taking the box in my hands, I lock the car and resume my mission.
AMARI
“Thanks again for the ride,” I tell Hannah the moment she leaves my office after our morning briefing. I like to meet with her every morning and discuss the day’s plan. We talk about what needs
to be accomplished and anything that developed overnight, not that anything ever really does; it is elementary school after all.
“No problem! So remember, the dance is next Sunday. It’s a father-daughter dance and the principal’s attendance is mandatory.”
“How could I forget? Did you know we’re spending $3,000 on a DJ?” I tell her, still shocked.
Hannah looks at me and laughs. “Welcome to elementary school.”
“That doesn’t even make sense!” I tell her. “Who needs to spend that much on a DJ for a party for kids who probably won’t remember,” I ask.
“I bet the kids wouldn’t care if the music came out of a phone plugged into a speaker,” Hannah says.
I nod. “Exactly my point! So why are we spending so much?” I should’ve rejected the request.
“No clue. That’s what Ms. Riley and Ms. Nichols wanted. This is their baby. Every year they ask for over the top things…” Hannah tells me.
“Do they get them every year?” If Hannah says yes, I’ll feel like less of a sucker.
“They do not. I think you’re the first person to not veto their $3,000 DJ. They definitely love you now.”
“They better.”
“Trust me, you’ve won them over for at least a year with what we’re spending on a DJ.”
“A year? Better be at least two,” I tell Hannah and laugh. A knock at the door grabs both of our attention. “Come in,” I say.
Slowly, the door opens and Hannah and I watch it waiting to see which teacher will bring in the next outrageous request.
Joke’s on us though… or I guess on me.
The person who walks in is definitely not a teacher. It’s a parent actually, one with his own set of outrageous requests.
Hannah shoots up from the seat like it’s on fire. “Hi, Mr. Cole,” she says and I keep my eyes on her. I watch the way her cheeks redden in Christian’s presence. I see the way she flips her hair and extends her hand to shake his. I watch the extroverted, gorgeous, and confident Hannah look nervous. I guess I’m not the only one who feels like the rug’s been swept from under them when he’s around.
“Hi, Ms. Robles,” he answers, his hand shaking hers, but his eyes drilling a whole onto my side. I don’t have to look at him to know that he’s watching me. I can feel it. I’ve always been able to.
“Call me Hannah, please,” she says. “Do you need anything?” she adds. I don’t know why her interaction with him bothers me as much as it does. Then again, it’s probably because she’s so willing to cater to him. I shouldn’t be bothered, she’s like that with every parent. It’s her job to make sure they have what they need. She’s the gatekeeper and she wasn’t at the gate, so it makes sense.
But I still don’t like it.
Partly because regardless of how much I want to not want him, I do. I want to be the only one who can provide him with what he needs. Too bad he got it from somewhere else… someone else.
“My mother is bringing Ari in a few minutes. She left her crayon box in the car, so I wanted to bring it by in case she needed it,” he answers and I’m immediately skeptical.
I’m still focusing my attention on Hannah and watch her nod then extend her hand to grab the crayons from him. I fix my attention on his hands. They’re firm and strong. I once thought they could hold the weight of the world if need be.
I haven’t given much thought to his letter since I got in to work, but I knew I couldn’t get a ride from him. I knew that just as I know that dropping off his daughter’s crayon box isn’t why he’s really here.
“Would that be all?” Hannah asks and I can tell she’s picking up on the tension in the room. Primarily because I’m not doing anything to try and hide it. Any other parent and I would’ve stood from my chair and shook their hand. I would’ve made small talk and tried to get them to see that things are going well. I would be trying hard to increase their confidence in me. Any other parent and I’d be doing things differently than I am now. I know this. Hannah knows this. Christian definitely knows too.
Speaking of, Christian clears his throat. “Could I have a moment alone with Amar—Principal Santana?” he says, correcting himself.
“Sure,” Hannah says. Her eyes find mine and she gives me a look that tells me she has no idea what to do next.
“Thanks,” Christian says and for a second they both stand there facing each other. Hannah takes that as her cue to leave and walks out of the room, leaving me and Christian alone. I get up from my chair, finally, and round the table to the other side of my desk. I want to make sure there’s something between us, other than feelings, something physical that serves as a barrier in case the ones I’ve put up internally collapse.
19
CHRISTIAN
She hasn’t even looked at me since I walked into her office. I knew I shouldn’t have come, but I couldn’t control my heart. Not anymore. I let it decide instead of my head because the last time I let my head control decisions of the heart it didn’t go too well.
“Hi,” I tell her taking a seat in front of her the moment Ms. Robles lets herself out of the room.
“Hello,” she responds, all business like. She crosses her arms in front of herself and even though I know I’m in deep shit with her, I can’t help smiling at her gesture. It’s the same pose she would typically take whenever I’d make her mad, which never lasted long. I hope it doesn’t last long now.
“Why are you smiling?” she asks, uncrossing her arms and setting her hands down on her desk.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help but think about the number of times you did that back when…”
“Got it,” she says, cutting me off before I have the chance to say the word ‘dating.’
I nod, trying to figure out what to say next before she forcefully kicks me out of her office. “I stopped by your house today.”
“You didn’t have to,” she replies, not missing a beat.
“I know, but I told you I would. I was there and even rang your doorbell about a million times.”
She doesn’t react. “I wasn’t there.”
“I know. I realized that after I sat in my truck for twenty minutes,” I reply with a nervous chuckle.
“You shouldn’t have come in the first place,” she says again, her eyes showing me a coldness that concerns me. It’s a familiar look by now though. It’s the way she’s looked at me since I saw her again. It’s the way she looked at me that day. Her head is raised as she tries not to cower in front of me. I know she’s strong.
I get up from the chair, feeling like its restricting me. I start pacing around her office, likely looking like someone off their rocket. “Your car wasn’t working, so I wanted to make sure you had a way to get to work,” I move my hands around nervously as I speak.
“That’s not for you to worry about,” she responds, not rising from her chair. Like the last time, she sits there and just watches me turn into a nervous wreck before her eyes.
“I can’t help worrying about you,” I say, my voice low as I try to hide the desperation I feel.
“You didn’t seem to worry about me before.” There’s no emotion behind her words. Just monotone and her distant demeanor makes me feel worse.
“All I ever do is worry about you,” I go for honesty.
“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” she says, her voice louder as she rises from her chair. High enough to show me she’s angry, low enough to prevent anyone outside these four walls from hearing her.
I like that she’s angry though because it means she still feels something for me. She hasn’t given up on me altogether.
“I can explain everything better to you if you let me. You might even understand me.”
She looks at me like I’m the worst person on the face of the earth. To her, I may very well be. “There’s nothing left to explain.”
“Yes there is!” I argue.
She sighs. “You should’ve explained yourself to me long ago.”
“You left!”
; “You asked me to leave! You begged me to leave. You broke my heart. You left me first.” She’s right.
“I didn’t want to,” I tell her, bringing my hands to my hair, I pull on their ends as I try to keep my voice low and my emotions at bay. I know they say it isn’t manly for men to cry, but I can’t help wanting to.
“You didn’t want to… seriously? No one put a gun to your head. No one told you to leave me behind. No one told you to break my heart in the middle of the hall in front of everyone.”
The emotion behind her words, the broken look in her eyes, the way her hands grip her desk makes me feel like shit all over again. I hated doing that to her then, but I thought that was the best choice. I thought it was my only choice, the only way I could stop myself from ruining her life. “I told you not to fall in love with me.”
“You did… You were right. I should’ve listened.”
I nod. “Your mistake was falling for me. You shouldn’t have.” Loving me was the only mistake she ever made. Giving me her heart, her laughter, herself, that was her mistake because I didn’t deserve it. But she gave it to me anyway, despite my warnings, and I tried my best to protect it. I changed the course of my life for this girl, this woman in front of me. Too bad my past caught up with me and the new changes I’d made didn’t matter. The past doesn’t care about your present.
“Too late to go back and change it,” she replies, all emotion leaving her voice.
“I didn’t want to leave you,” I repeat, my voice breaking.
Her eyes water and her voice betrays the coldness she’s tried to portray. “Then why did you?” she asks and I understand how confusing this all is for her. I don’t even know how to begin to explain it.
Just Because of You Page 9
