“Tristan, where are you taking me?” I giggle as he guides me by my hands out of the car and my feet hit gravel.
“It’s a surprise,” he answers, his hands pulling me farther out and I hear the sound of the door shut behind me.
“No fair.” I pout but I can’t help the grin from spreading across my lips. “Can I at least take the blindfold off?”
“Not yet.” He chuckles and the sound of his laughter has goose bumps prickling my skin. There’s always been something about the sound of his laugh that I love; the way it’s so carefree but deep, the baritone rumbling through him.
“Fine.” I feel the terrain underneath my feet change from gravel to soft grass and I smile because I instantly know where we are, but I don’t say anything as I don’t want to spoil the surprise.
We walk a little farther, trusting him to lead me and keep me from falling down any rabbit holes that could be scattered around. I can feel the sun beating down on my face, warming my skin, and the slight breeze that lifts my hair so it tickles my shoulders. With the blindfold on, all my senses are heightened, so when Tris stops and brushes his fingers lightly over my shoulders, I shiver.
“I’m going to take it off now,” he whispers in my ear.
I feel his hands come up behind my head as he undoes the blindfold, and I shield my eyes as the sun blinds me for a moment before I blink a few times to get my eyes to adjust. As soon as they do, the handsome image of my long-term boyfriend comes into view. He still makes the butterflies flutter in my stomach and my mouth go dry whenever I look at him, and I can’t imagine a day that that will ever be different.
He smiles at me but it looks a little strained, or perhaps I’m reading him wrong because it changes into a wide grin as he steps aside and reveals a blanket scattered with assorted foods and a bottle of champagne.
“What… When did you have time to do this? We were together all night.”
“I’m afraid I can’t reveal my sources.” He smirks and I shake my head at him, a smile pulling at the corners of my lips at the sight of it in front of our tree.
From the first time we found this tree, we dubbed it ours. The branches of the willow dance as the wind catches them, swaying gently and causing shadows to form on the grass below. The wind starts to pick up and the sun is hidden by a few gray clouds that roll in. He walks backward as he pulls me toward the picnic at the base of the tree and takes off his lightweight jacket, wrapping it around my shoulders.
“I wanted an afternoon, just you and me at our tree.”
I smile gratefully at him. “Looking for brownie points, huh? What did you do?” My question is a joke but he flinches and looks away, making me second guess myself. “Tris? Is everything okay?”
“I… Yeah.” He doesn’t sound so convinced as he turns his gaze back to me, his eyes shining with something that I haven’t seen before. Is that regret? Why—I don’t— “Come on.” He smiles wide again, crouching down and picking up the bottle of champagne. “Let’s get this baby opened.”
I hesitate, wondering if I imagined the strange look in his eyes because the smile on his face is one I’m so used to. I paste a smile on my face and smooth down my yellow summer dress, sitting down next to him and taking the glass he offers me.
He holds his out in a cheers and I clink my glass against his. “What are we celebrating?”
“Us.” He doesn’t say another word for several seconds, making me squirm. “We’re celebrating us,” he says, his voice a mere whisper now.
The smile on his face doesn’t quite reach his eyes—a telltale sign that something is most definitely wrong—but I don’t question him. He’ll tell me when he’s ready; we’ve always been honest with each other.
“To us.” I raise my glass before taking a sip, the bubbles fizzing up my nose. I cough and he laughs, handing me a napkin. “Thanks.”
He leans back, putting his hands behind him, causing his biceps to ripple with the movement, and I can’t tear my gaze away from him. From the first moment I saw him, I thought he was a pompous rich boy; another entitled person that would take what he could from this world without working for a thing. But he isn’t that person at all, he’s far from it.
“Do you remember the first time we met?” he asks, almost as if he can read my thoughts.
I raise a brow at him, a smirk lifting one side of my lips. “How could I forget? I practically painted you the color of a rainbow when I tripped and my paints went everywhere. You weren’t happy.” I laugh at the memory.
His eyes widen and his face becomes animated. “But I was a sexy rainbow.” He smirks.
“That you were.” I sweep my eyes over his angular face and down his muscular arms. “What changed?”
“Hey!” He moves so fast that I don’t have the chance to get away before he’s on me, pushing me down and pinning my hands above my head on the blanket. My breath catches in my throat as he stares down at me, his gaze intense as it flits between my eyes and my lips.
My lips part as he moves closer, pressing his to mine in a sweet but gentle kiss. He pulls back slightly, staring down at me—searching for something—so I push my head closer, wanting more, but he pulls back, moving off me suddenly.
He sits next to me with his knees pulled up, his forearms hanging over them as he looks down between his legs.
I sit up, the jacket slipping from my shoulders and I stare ahead into the gray sky. “Something’s bothering you, you can’t hide it from me. I know you wanted this to be a nice afternoon but… you’re kinda harshing my vibe.” I try to joke but he doesn’t smile or glance my way.
“I…” He huffs out a breath, picking up his champagne glass and downing the fizzy drink. “I wanted us to have a fun afternoon, just you and me, being together.”
“And here we are on an afternoon together. So, what’s wrong?”
He shakes his head, jumping up and pacing in front of me. I watch him walk back and forth as he mumbles something to himself, his hands clenched at his sides. “Why?” He keeps repeating that word over and over again.
“Tristan, you’re starting to scare me now. Come sit down and eat, someone put a lot of effort into all of this.” I pop a strawberry into my mouth, the sweetness of its juices making me smile. But it doesn’t ease the bad feeling I have creeping into every part of me.
“No.” His voice is low, but the tone is thunderous and it has my head springing up to face him. His eyes mist over and he closes them.
When he opens them back up, I almost gasp at the look he gives me. The gentleness to his eyes that he’s always had is gone, and in its place is something that I don’t recognize, or like.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“I… What do you mean?” I stand up, trying to touch his arm but he tears it away from me violently.
“Don’t touch me.” He steps away, pulling his shoulders back and narrowing his eyes at me. “I don’t want this.” He points between us. “I’ve never wanted this.”
The blow he delivers feels physical and I stumble slightly until I recover myself, realizing the fact that he won’t even look at me. “Where’s this coming from?” He shakes his head and looks at our tree. “You’re a liar.”
Drops of water land on my face as I stare at him, the dark rolling clouds coming in fast, reflecting my mood.
“I am.” He shrugs. “I’m a liar because I told you that I loved you, when I don’t.”
“You’re a shitty liar, you always have been.” I try to keep my emotions under control as I ask, “Why are you doing this me… to us?”
“I’m not doing anything. I’m fed up of playing this game with you and decided to be honest for once.” He looks away, not a drop of emotion on his face as he pulls out his cellphone, typing away, the clicking of the buttons echoing around us.
The rain gets heavier, blasting down on my skin with so much force that I wince.
“Honest? You wanna talk about honesty? How about you tell me what’s really going on.”
He doesn’t look up as he says, “I told you, I don’t—”
I cut him off. “Look at me!” He shakes his head slightly and I feel the rage running through my veins. “Look at me when you’re trying to break my heart!”
My chest heaves as hot, angry tears flow down my face, mixing in with the rain. Why is he doing this to me? Everything was perfect.
He looks up, throwing his cellphone down onto the grass and storming toward me. His large hands enclosing around my face. “Is this what you want! Huh?” Drops of water slide from his hair and down his face, his eyelashes sticking together as he stares at me with that same blank look.
I try to shake my head but I can’t move because his grip on me is so tight that it feels like he’s trying to hold onto what we have.
“No, this isn’t what I want. And I don’t think it’s what you want either.” My gaze flits between his eyes, searching for a break in his facade. “What I want is for you to take back every shitty thing you’ve said. Tell me you’re not doing this to us.”
His grip tightens momentarily before he lets me go, making me sway backward. I try to catch my balance but I lose my fight and fall, my ass hitting the wet grass. “I’m sick and tired of being a liar. I’m doing this because I’ve had my fun and it’s getting boring. I don’t want this… I don’t want you.”
I open my mouth to say something but he takes a step forward. “People like you don’t deserve to be with people like me. Go back to your side of the tracks. You don’t belong here. You don’t fit into my life now. You were a bit of fun while I was in college.” He shrugs, the emotionless way he says it making it hard to catch my breath. “But now it’s time for me to live in the real world... a world where you and I don’t exist.”
My hand flies to my chest, trying to hold myself together as my sobs grow almost animalistic. He takes one last look at me before he starts to walk away. “Tris…” I reach out for him but he doesn’t turn around, continuing toward his car. “Tristan!”
“We’re done!” he shouts back to me, opening his car door and not looking back as he gets inside, the rain pelting down with so much force that it’s hard to see. I hear the engine of his car roar to life before he drives away, taking my heart with him.
The memory subsides and I slowly come back to the present. I realize that I’m sitting on the floor with my back against the wall, tears streaming down my face. I used to be such a strong, happy-go-lucky person. That was until that day.
After he left me there, I tried to contact him. I tried to message, I tried to call… I tried everything. But he never once answered any of them and I wasn’t allowed into his parents gated house.
I tried to contact Nathan and Natalia, but I guess now I know why they wouldn’t talk to me too. I don’t blame them, they were his friends before mine, they all grew up together. At the time, I felt like I was being punished for being so happy. How can we go from a night of passion and fun, to him throwing me away like I was nothing? But I obviously didn’t learn, because here I am letting him do it all over again.
I wipe the tears from my face and stand up, racing down the stairs to get to my cellphone before I can change my mind. I won’t be the way I was after he left me the first time; I don’t think I’d survive going through all that again. I need an explanation. I’m not letting it go without a bigger fight this time.
I press call on his contact number and wait, the ringing on the other end making my stomach churn. Come on, be a man, Tristan. Pick up.
When it runs to voicemail, I pluck up the courage to leave a message, even though in my frenzied state I know it won’t make any sense.
“How could you leave me like that with no explanation? We were good for each other—no—we were great. Our relationship was envied by everyone around us.” I take several deep breaths. “What happened, Tristan? What did I do so wrong that made you toss me to the side like I didn’t mean anything to you?” I sob, the heart-wrenching sound echoing in my small office. “You chose her. You chose her over me and that breaks my heart. I can’t feel anymore sorrow toward you and your beautiful kids than I already do, but it still hurts that you chose her.” I know my time will be up soon so I hurry my speech along. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that... I’m done. I can’t be that person that’s so easy for you to throw away. I’m not dispensable, Tris, and it’s time I realized that. But… please still bring the kids to art class, I don’t know if I could stand not—” The beep cuts me off and I slam my cellphone down on the top of my desk, sliding into my chair and hanging my head in my hands.
Timbaland—Apologize
Sara Phillips—Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door
James Morrison & Nelly Furtado—Broken Strings
I walk out of Clay’s room, heading down the stairs as the ringing of my cell echoes around the empty space. Pulling it out, I see Harmony’s name flashing across the screen.
My feet come to a stop halfway to the bottom, my heart hammering in my chest as my thumb hovers over the answer button and then over the decline button. My gaze flits back upstairs before looking back down at the screen of my cell. I can’t do it. I can’t answer the call and listen to her voice; not right now. Not in the headspace that I’m in at the moment.
Shaking my head, I push it back into my pocket when it stops ringing. It’s been a couple of weeks now and I still haven’t spoken to her. Not for her lack of trying, but I can’t face her right now. I can’t bear to tell her everything, because that’s the only way that she’ll understand it all.
Not just about Natalia, but the reason that I walked away from her all those years ago too. It’s all become too real, and I’m not sure that I’m strong enough to face it.
Truth be told; I’m scared. I’m a grown-ass man, but I’m scared that I’ll lose her all over again. Surely pushing her away is better than watching her walk away from me this time?
“Hey, Tris,” Amelia says as I walk into the kitchen. She’s dressed in her pajamas, no makeup on and her hair in a messy bun on the top of her head as she makes her nightly cup of cocoa.
I chuckle as she brings it to her lips. “You and cocoa.” I shake my head, a smirk on my face. “You’re such an old lady.”
My cell beeps with a message and when I pull it out, I see the notification, telling me that I have a voicemail.
“I am not!” she gasps, her hand flying to her chest in mock outrage. “Cocoa is good for you, it settles you for the night.” I don’t look up as she comes closer, standing beside me. “Tris?” she asks, concern etched in her voice.
“It’s Harmony,” I whisper, my voice raw with emotion.
“So, talk to her,” she says flippantly, pulling out the chair next to me and sitting in silence.
My thumb unlocks the cell, but I hesitate, not sure whether to delete the message or listen to it. If I listen to it, it could change everything. She won’t want me after I tell her the truth; but if I delete it, it’ll be over for good. I feel like I’m at a crossroads; the same way I felt before I climbed those stairs in her studio.
Making a decision, I huff out a breath and press the button to listen to it as I put it to my ear, hearing her emotion-filled words. But it’s the two words—“I’m done”—that have me lifting out of my chair. The wooden legs scrape against the tiled floor and I let my hand drop, the cell hanging from my fingers loosely.
It’s one thing me walking away, knowing that once I get my head together, I can go back. But to hear those words from her tells me that I went too far: I pushed too hard and I broke us.
Me. It’s all on me—again.
The thought of never holding her close, touching her, kissing her, laughing with her, has a lump building in my throat. I need to go to her. I need to make this right.
“I have to—”
“Go.” Amelia waves me away. “Go and get your girl.” She smiles but I can’t do anything but nod as I practically run out of the house and to my car.
Her words bash around in my brain, repeating over and o
ver again all the way there. The way she sounded; so wounded and broken. I did that to her. I made her feel like that. I want to punch myself in the face right now.
Before I know it, I’m outside her studio and pushing out of my car, running up the cobblestone path, the lights guiding my way in the darkness of the night.
The door pushes open and I frown at her leaving it unlocked at this time of night. I know she has adult art class tonight, but that was over a while ago. She should have locked up by now.
“Harmony?” I call out for her, stepping farther inside. When I don’t get an answer, I walk into the main area, not seeing her, but I can feel her energy. I know she’s here before I hear her voice.
“Stupid, stupid.” She berates herself.
My head whips in the direction of her voice and my feet are moving toward her before my brain catches up.
“Harmony?” I ask when I get to the open door of her office.
Her head snaps up and her eyes connect with mine; void of the loving look I always seem to find when I stare deep into her eyes. It just about guts me. I’m too late.
“What do you want from me?” Her voice breaks.
“I…” I rake my hands through my hair and down my face, looking off to the side and seeing the walls full to the brim with art. “I think it’s time.”
I turn back to her as her face turns angry, her cheeks becoming red. “Time? I’ve had enough of time, it brings nothing but misery.” She stands from the chair she’s sitting in. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head and stepping toward her, but one look has me coming to a halt. “I mean it’s time for me to stop running.” I let my gaze drop from hers again because it’s too painful to see that look in her eyes when it’s aimed at me. “It’s time I told you everything. I need you to understand.”
Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks Series Book 1) Page 38
