The One You Can’t Forget

by Loren, Roni

  “I’m sorry I pretended to be someone else,” she said into his shirt. “I’m not who you think I am. I’m a horrible person. And soon everyone else is going to know it, too.”

  “Hush,” he said, smoothing her hair. “You think this changes who I think you are?”

  “Of course it does.”

  He shifted and tipped her face up to him, but she wouldn’t look at him. “You’re not a horrible person. A horrible person wouldn’t have given that incident a second thought, would’ve never entertained any blame.”

  Tears sparkled on her lashes. “Wes, what I did…”

  “Was what a million other teenagers do every day,” he finished. “They turn down dates. They get rejected. They get embarrassed. They try to save face in front of friends. They get crushes. They get their hearts broken. They tease and get teased. They sometimes make bad decisions because they’re young and inexperienced. Because they’re kids. They get scared out of their minds because life is overwhelming and weird and hard to figure out when you’re so new at it.” He wiped away one of her tears with his knuckle.

  “If you want to play the blame game, where would it end? How about placing blame on your dad for putting so much pressure on you to be perfect and helping create the depression that sent you to that group? Or how about your mom for leaving? Or your crush for not dating you? Because then no Trevor kiss would’ve happened. Or what about the guy who sold the liquor to Trevor and helped start what happened at the lake? Or the group counselor for being ineffective? Or Trevor’s and the other shooter’s parents for not knowing their kids had access to guns? Or whoever provided guns to those kids in the first place?”

  She stared at him, eyes bloodshot.

  “You’re a lawyer,” he said. “You know how a story can be twisted to make anyone look like the villain. Look at what Steven’s facing right now. We know he’s not a bad person because we know the background and we know he’s young. So were you. You were one very small piece in a tapestry of Trevor’s life. In that one moment, you didn’t create a murderer, Bec. Trevor was deeply troubled to do what he did. There were a million points in his life that coalesced to create that tragic night. He, ultimately, made that decision. He made a plan with the other kid. He killed people in cold blood. That is not your fault. You can’t hold on to that blame. It’s not yours to carry around.”

  Tears dripped onto the pillow, and she looked down.

  “Rebecca,” he said, reaching out to cup her face. “You are the most big-hearted person I’ve ever met. You bought me my dream when I’d lost it. You gave a group of kids who have next to nothing an amazing opportunity to do something great. You gave a kid who mugged you at gunpoint a second chance because you believed in him. Who else would do that? You are…a spectacular, loving, beautiful human being. Hell,” he said, “you made a guy who’d sworn off relationships forever fall head over heels for you. If that isn’t working miracles, I don’t know what is.”

  Rebecca closed her eyes.

  “You see, Bec, you’ve got it all wrong. You didn’t pretend to be someone else around me. You gave me the best gift. You let yourself be who you really are with me. Underneath all this hurt and trauma, all the pressure and expectations, this is you. I got to meet that girl, and I’m so damn lucky for it.”

  She opened her eyes and stared at him, something tender and fragile moving across her features. Something he’d been longing to see. A sliver of hope. A crack in the door.

  He cleared his throat. “Frankly, what’s unfair is that you showed me who you are and then expected me not to fall for you. Really, it was an impossible bar to set for me. I have an addictive personality, you know.”

  A tiny smile peeked out at that, a little twitch of the lips. “I’ve heard that rumor about you.”

  “I’ve also been told I’m cute. And smart. And highly insightful. You should listen to me.”

  “You are.” She reached for his hand and let out a long sigh, laying her head against his shoulder. “You may also be impossible not to love back.”

  The words were simple and to the point, but they cut right through him and stole his air for a moment. “Hold up, you love me back?”

  She lifted her head from his shoulder and gave him a well, duh look. “I’m a complete mess over you, Wes. That’s not the point.”

  His chest filled with something big and powerful, a hot, sweet rush. “Oh, no, I think that’s a big damn point, lawyer girl. In fact, I think that is the point of all the points. It’s like the Grand Master of points. Like the point all the other points aspire to be.”

  “Wes, you’re not getting it,” she said, some fire coming back into her tone. “Why the hell would you want to be with me after everything I’ve just told you? After everything you’ve seen? I’m a disaster right now. I’m in therapy for panic attacks and flashbacks. I’m about to lose my job because there’s no way I’m dropping Steven’s case, and my dad’s going to go to the press. My life is about to explode.”

  He shifted so he could face her fully and put his hand on her shoulder. “Bec, you’re the one who’s not getting it. I want to be with you because you’re the woman who’s going to let her life explode to help a kid who needs it. And you’re not a mess. You’re a human who’s been through some tough shit. We both have things we’re working on. I’m not exactly without my own baggage. I will always be a recovering alcoholic. I’m rebuilding my life because I did lose my job and a lot of other things. I don’t want to be with you because I want some neat and perfect life, lawyer girl. I just want you. All the parts of you—scars, life explosions, misguided love of boxed macaroni and cheese… I’m all in.”

  “You…” Rebecca stared at him for a long moment, a confused expression on her face, and then fresh tears slipped down her cheeks. The fight seemed to go out of her, and she touched her forehead to his. “Wes.”

  He ran a hand over the back of her head and closed his eyes. “Bec.”

  They stayed that way for a few seconds, her breath easing into a slower, calmer rhythm, but Wes’s whole body stayed tense, his words and confessions and offer floating between them unmoored.

  Finally, her voice broke the silence. “You lie. You’re never going to let go of the mac-and-cheese thing.”

  The breath he’d been holding whooshed out of him. He lifted his head and cupped her face, erasing her tears with his thumbs as something rusty unlocked inside him. She wasn’t going to run away. He swallowed past the emotion lodged in his throat. “Okay, you’re right. The cheese is powdered. That’s just unnatural and uncalled for.”

  A tear-choked laugh tumbled out of her, and he inhaled that sound like it was a drug.

  “But all the rest is truth, Bec,” he said softly. “I know you think relationships are a bad bet, but taking a gamble has two sides to it. Sometimes you push all your chips in, and…you win.”

  “And you think we’re going to win?”

  “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But what I do know is that I don’t want to walk away without finding out. The biggest risk isn’t the risk of failing. It’s the risk of letting what could turn out to be the love of your life slip through your fingers because you were too scared to take a chance. I’d rather have a failure than a regret.”

  Her lips curved at that. “You’re a pretty smart guy, Wes Garrett.”

  He shrugged. “Meh, I’m a C student at best.”

  She burst into a laugh at that, her hand flying to her mouth when she snorted.

  He smirked. “What? Something I said?”

  She shook her head, eyes smiling. “Nothing. And you’re an A-plus. Don’t let anyone tell you any different.”

  He dragged her into his lap and kissed her.

  When he pulled back, she pushed his hair away from his eyes and looked at him with a bewildered expression. “How the hell did I manage to fall for you in a month?”

  The words filled him up inside, made his chest expand. “Well, first of all, I’m spectacular in bed, so there’s that.”r />
  She gave him a droll look.

  “And I cooked and fed you delicious food, so it really couldn’t be helped. Also, I’ve heard a rumor that you can be impulsive.”

  She grinned, the effect like sunshine after so much grief. “Maybe I am.”

  “Maybe that’s okay.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Wanna go to Vegas?”

  She poked a finger to his chest. “Slow your roll, chef. First, we have a kid to free from jail. Then we’ll talk.”

  “That, lawyer girl, is a deal.” Wes pressed his lips to hers, savoring the privilege of being able to do that again, of having her here in his arms. “So do you know what you’re going to do about your dad?”

  Her shoulders lifted with a deep breath, her expression sobering. “Yes. The only thing I can do.”

  “What’s that?”

  She lifted her gaze to his. “I have to tell my story first.”

  chapter

  TWENTY-NINE

  Taryn adjusted her dark-rimmed glasses while fiddling with the settings on the small voice recorder she had in her hand. Rebecca sat across from her at a table in the university’s psychology building Monday afternoon and tried not to jump out of her skin. Outside in the hallway, student voices chattered in a dull drone as they changed classes. Rebecca rubbed her damp palms on her jeans.

  Taryn looked up, concern heavy in her brown eyes. “You sure you want to do this, Bec?”

  Rebecca inhaled deeply and nodded. “Yeah. I need to. And if it helps your research, all the better.”

  Taryn spent part of her time teaching forensic psychology at the university, but most of her day was spent researching the criminal mind—the young, developing criminal mind, in particular. Rebecca couldn’t imagine wanting to poke around in those dark places, but she understood Taryn’s drive to get answers. After her younger sister was killed in the Long Acre shooting, Taryn had vowed to figure out ways to prevent those kinds of tragedies from happening, to come up with ways to identify troubled kids before they jumped from troubled to deadly.

  Rebecca wasn’t sure those kinds of whys or hows could be pinpointed, but she was going to give Taryn all the information that she had. Maybe her experience with Trevor could offer some insight and help in some way. Regardless, Rebecca would rather tell her close friend about what had happened between her and Trevor than tell a reporter who would sensationalize everything. The information would get out either way, but at least Rebecca could put it into the most useful hands first.

  Taryn pushed her headband back, keeping her cloud of tight, black curls away from her face, and sent Rebecca a tilted smile as she set the recorder between them. “All right. I’ve delayed enough. We should be good to go. Is it okay to admit that I’m trembling?”

  Rebecca cocked her head to the side. “That’s supposed to be my job, doc.”

  Taryn rubbed her lips together, smoothing her bright-pink lip gloss. “I know, but this is a first for me. I’ve never interviewed a friend about Long Acre. This feels more intense.”

  Rebecca’s chest squeezed tight. “Honey, if you don’t feel up to this, please don’t do it on my behalf. Believe me, I know how important it can be to keep those closets locked. If you’re not ready to—”

  Taryn shook her head, something resolute coming into her eyes. “Oh no, don’t you go giving me a pass, lady. That’s not why I’m telling you.”

  Rebecca sighed and ran her fingers over her ponytail, a nervous habit from childhood that seemed to reappear at times like these. “Maybe I’m trying to give myself a pass. I’m afraid that when I’m done with this, you’re going to hate me.”

  Taryn gave her a pointed look. “Don’t even go there, Bec. I know you. Nothing you’re going to say is going to make me hate you. And, trust me, we all have things about that night that we wish we could take back. I know I do.”

  Rebecca looked up, catching the tightening of Taryn’s expression, the grip of something sharp overtaking her friend—pain, grief, guilt? But the moment was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

  “We’re doing this interview,” Taryn said resolutely, not giving Rebecca the chance to ask what had put that anguished look on her face. “That’s not in question. I’m just letting you know that I’m probably not going to be one hundred percent put together about it. I reserve the right not to react like a proper impassive researcher.”

  “You absolutely have that right.” Rebecca reached out and put her palm up on the table between them. “And who in the hell is one hundred percent put together anyway? Maybe if I’m fifty percent and you’re fifty percent, we’ll make it to the other side of this thing.”

  Taryn put her hand in Rebecca’s, her smooth brown skin warm against Rebecca’s cold fingers. “We’ve got this. We will do the interview. I will take notes. We will cry. And then afterward, we’re going to dinner to get a big-ass margarita with our puffy eyes and sloppy mascara while you tell me all about that new boyfriend of yours.”

  Rebecca smiled. “It’s a deal.”

  Taryn sat back in her chair, took a breath that lifted her shoulders, and hit the record button on the device. “Okay, Rebecca, tell me about when you first met Trevor…”

  *

  Rebecca headed down the hallway toward her office Tuesday morning, vaguely hungover from too many margaritas with Taryn and feeling like a stranger in a strange land. The phones were ringing and keyboards clicking as normal. The muted steps of expensive shoes on thick office carpet played bass. And the scent of slightly stale coffee filled the air. It was the same world she’d visited as a kid when she’d stopped in to see her dad. The same world she entered almost every weekday of her adult life. The law firm that would one day be part hers. But now that wouldn’t be so, and she was an intruder in a home that used to be her own.

  She hadn’t made any announcements yet, and her father hadn’t returned her calls, but the decision was already made. She was officially representing Steven. She’d told her father in one of the messages she’d left him that she was going to tell her secret. Then, she’d done it yesterday, telling Taryn every part of her short-lived connection with Trevor. No going back now.

  Marian’s desk was empty when Rebecca passed. That was a small relief. Rebecca didn’t quite know how to break the news to her assistant yet. Ideally, she’d take Marian with her, but wherever Rebecca set up shop, she wasn’t going to be able to offer Marian all the perks and benefits she got here at a big firm.

  Rebecca grabbed a few empty boxes from near the copy machine and headed into her office, prepared to call all of her current clients and then pack up her office. She stepped inside, her vision blocked by the armful of boxes, and headed in the general direction of her desk.

  “Rebecca.”

  She let out a startled yelp and dropped the boxes, the cardboard tumbling to the floor in an avalanche.

  Rebecca put a hand to her chest when she saw where the voice had come from. “Jesus, Dad, you scared me. What are you doing in here?”

  Her father was standing near her window, his hands tucked in his pockets, a joyless expression on his face. “The doorman called me when you arrived. I wasn’t sure you were coming back.”

  She pulled her shoulders back, fighting to keep a calm, civil attitude. “I have personal items to pack up. Plus, I need to call all of my current clients and transfer their cases to the other attorneys.”

  Her father stepped forward and gave her an evaluating look. “I’m not going to prevent you from taking your current clients with you, Rebecca. If they want to follow you, that’s their choice.”

  She bent over and restacked the boxes, needing to do something with her hands. “That’s okay. I can wrap up the cases that are in the final stages, but afterward, I’m getting out of the divorce business.”

  “You’re—” Her father scoffed. “Right. Of course you are. Who cares that you’ve spent all these years building your expertise in that area? Seeing the reality of relationships every day would put a damper on your new romance. Can’t let that hap
pen. Don’t want to mess with the fantasy he’s feeding you.”

  She straightened and crossed her arms, her hackles going up. “Enough. What exactly is your problem with Wes? You don’t even know him.”

  “I know enough,” he said. “I did my research. I know he’s divorced and that you represented his wife, that he cheated on her. That he threw a tantrum in court.”

  “The tantrum was justified, and he didn’t cheat.”

  “Right. I’m sure that’s what he told you. I also know he has a DUI, a stint in rehab, and a juvenile record. His parents are career criminals, and he declared bankruptcy after the divorce,” her father said, rattling off his list like he was proud of it. “And I’ve been around long enough to know that a smart, successful, wealthy attorney who’s still single in her thirties is a prime target for someone like him.”

  Rebecca’s fingernails dug into her arms. “Right. We’re ripe for the picking, us thirty-one-year-old spinsters. We just want our princes to come and save us from it all.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Yes it is,” she said. “You say I’m smart, but you must not believe that. You must think I’m some desperate, pitiful thing who can be tricked because she’s so needy for some male attention. Come on, Dad, are you listening to yourself?”

  “Smart people can be stupid when it comes to relationships,” he barked. “Believe me, I know. I married your mother.”

  “I am not being stupid,” Rebecca said, her voice carrying across the room and ricocheting off the wall of windows. “I’m not desperate for attention. Getting a guy in bed is really not that hard.”

  He cringed.

  “I don’t need a man. I wasn’t looking for one. But I met Wes, and yeah, on paper, all that stuff in his past looks awful. But that paper doesn’t list all the other things. Like how he’s overcome a terrible childhood and has a loving adopted family now. Or how he came out of addiction and has rebuilt a new career at the school, helping kids who are struggling. You don’t know that when I was being mugged, he ran up to intervene, to help a stranger, with no hesitation even though it put him in danger. He is a good man. He is going to be part of my life. And if you don’t want to be anymore because of that, then I guess that’s your choice. But know that it’s not mine. You are creating this rift. Not me.”