I suck in a breath, my eyes closing against the fireflies lighting up my stomach.
Up until this point, I thought I had made peace with my decisions, but in this moment, I want to tell him I take it back. I want him to know how badly I didn’t want to leave. How I broke my own heart in half and left the bigger piece with him.
But I don’t. I can’t. Rehashing the past won’t change the present.
I glance behind him, reminding myself of all the reasons why my feelings don’t matter. Namely, his fiancée. She’s still on her phone, standing in front of the shop’s front door. But her eyes are on us.
I move away until my back hits the side of my car, the metal frame hot against my skin.
“There’s nothin’ to tell, Eli. Just let it go.” My heart revolts against the words. It’s the same line I use on his sister, but it doesn’t work as well on him.
He shakes his head, stepping into me. “Don’t give me that bullshit. I deserve to know.”
A hurricane of emotion rages in his blue eyes, promising to take me down in its storm.
My gut squeezes so tight, I’m afraid I’ll faint. I bite my lip, shaking my head.
Let it go, Eli.
His hand flies out, smacking against the roof of the car. The sound makes me jump, but my body sizzles from the heat of his arm. My skin tingles as energy dances off my skin, flaring in its excitement.
I know his fiancée is watching. I know I should push him back—do something to break this moment, but I’m rooted to the ground. Unable to even breathe through the thickness of the air.
His head angles down, those dark, blond strands flopping on his forehead, his breath tickling my cheek.
“Please,” he whispers.
My stomach clenches, my heart lurching against the wall I’ve wrapped around it.
Elliot Carson doesn’t beg. But he’s begging for this.
And I know I’ll give in—give him whatever he wants. Maybe if I do, it will appease the hands of fate and they’ll stop tormenting me with his presence. Maybe they’ll let me close the door and finally move on. To stay strong in my belief that I’m not the one for him, no matter how bad I crave to be.
I inhale, my lips parting.
“Hey, honey. Ready to go?” Sarah’s voice shocks me out of the moment, my mouth snapping shut.
Eli’s eyes clear, and he takes a step back, running a shaky hand through his hair.
I hold my breath, afraid that Sarah will notice the way my chest is heaving. The way my nerves are screaming from Eli’s almost touch.
There’s no way she missed what was happening.
Eli doesn’t seem to care. His eyes are still on me, like they always are. Searching. Prying. Stripping me bare under his gaze.
I should look away.
I don’t.
He sighs, finally turning to a frowning Sarah. I mutter a quick goodbye and jump in my car, desperate to escape this hell.
My shaking hands rest on the steering wheel, and I wait like a statue in my seat until they leave. Once they do, the rope binding me together slackens, my head falling against the wheel and my hand rubbing at the ache in my chest. I’ve gotten used to the hollow feeling, but right now it throbs, reminding me that I’m missing something vital. Something I left with Eli five years ago when I walked out the door.
Something I don’t think I’ll ever get back.
I don’t think I can do this.
He’s not mine. He never really was. And in two months, he never will be again.
40
Eli
The drive back to Pops’s place is silent. Sarah doesn’t say a word, just gazes out of the window as we make the quick five-minute trip from Main Street to the house. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to guess what she’s thinking. Anyone who was in a ten-mile radius could have felt the forcefield of energy surrounding Becca and me. Like usual, she made me lose control.
I see her and it’s this explosion of hurt slamming against raw, unbridled need, creating our own universe. My soul aches for answers. For the closure she never gave. To know what was so wrong with me that she wouldn’t let me in. Couldn’t let me love her.
Maybe once I know, I can finally move on and truly love someone else.
The second we pull in the driveway, Sarah’s out of the car and up the walkway, slamming the screen door and rushing through the living room.
I blow out a breath, attempting to ease the knot forming in my stomach as I follow her in. I do a quick scan for Pops and find him snoring softly from his recliner, ESPN blaring from the TV.
Tentatively, I make my way to the guest room. Sarah’s never given me the silent treatment before. I’m not sure what to expect.
Gripping the handle of the door—half expecting it to be locked—I walk in the room. Sarah’s in front of the dresser, her frame tense as she grips the edge of the wood.
“Tell me what’s going on with you and Becca.” Her voice is low. Shaky.
I shove my hands in my pockets. “What do you mean?”
Her narrowed eyes meet mine through the mirror. “I’m not stupid, Eli. She looks at you like you killed her puppy. I ignored it because I figured it was some childhood crush she never got over.”
My stomach twists.
“But you know what’s worse?” Sarah moves, dropping onto the bed. “I feel invisible when she’s around. I don’t like feeling invisible, especially when you’re my husband, not hers.”
“Fiancé.”
Her brows shoot to her hairline. “Excuse me?”
I clear my throat. “Fiancé. We aren’t married yet.”
Her lips turn down. “Yeah. I’m aware. And so is she, which is what concerns me.”
I chuckle at the thought of Becca being a concern. As if she gives a damn about me or who I’m marrying. “Sarah, there’s nothing to be worried about.”
She taps her fingers to her head. “A woman always knows, Eli. You’d do well to remember that.”
My heart ratchets up in speed, my ears deaf to everything except the sound of its beat.
I throw my hands in the air. “If you’re so worried about it, why the hell did you ask her to plan our wedding?”
She stands up, her irises blazing, fists clenching at her sides.
My eyes widen. She’s zealous in her rage, and my gut pinches, wondering why I’ve never seen her passion.
“Because like I said, I’m not stupid,” she hisses. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”
A sadness settles in my chest, knowing my inability to control myself has turned Sarah into this mockery of who she truly is. Sarah isn’t vindictive. She isn’t mean.
But she is right. I should be putting her first.
My teeth clench, sending an ache up my jaw as I deliberate how much to tell her. I owe it to our relationship to make the effort, to continue the attempt at opening up and letting her in. But, I won’t lie and say that part of me doesn’t see this as an out—a way for me to wash my hands of the responsibility that comes with being back home.
I guess as many strides as a person takes forward, there’s always temptation to walk it back.
“Sarah, listen. Being back here is hard for me, okay? It’s got memories I’d like to forget and people who’ve already forgotten me. I’m trying to do this for you. But if it’s gonna make us fight, maybe we should just go back to Florida. Forget having the wedding here. Your parents would love to have it closer to their home anyway, yeah?”
She shakes her head. “No, Eli. I want to have it where you grew up. It’s perfect with the smoky mountain backdrop and the small-town charm. I love it here. Besides, everyone in town loves you.”
My heart thunks and my gut tightens. People here don’t love me. They love the idea of me—of who I used to be.
I sigh. “I guess, Sarah. Whatever you want.”
“No. It’s not whatever I want. I need to know what you want, too. Do you want to marry me? Really?”
Her question slams into my chest, my
heart cowering against the attack. “I asked you, didn’t I?”
“Well yeah, but… you’ve been different since we’ve been here, and then I see the way you are with Becca and…” She looks down at her hands.
“And what?”
“And you aren’t that way with me.” Her voice sinks to a whisper. “She knows you in a way I never have.”
“Sarah.” I stare at her, my mind racing as I struggle to separate the part of me that wants to shut this conversation down, and the part that wants to let her in.
I suck on my teeth. “I was with Becca back when she was a student.”
Sarah gasps, her lower lip trembling. “I knew it. I knew there was something there. A student, Eli? Really?”
I rub my hands down my face, groaning. “I don’t want to lie to you, okay? It was a long time ago, and things didn’t end well.” I cup her cheek in my hand. “I asked you to marry me. I’m here for you.”
“Did you love her?”
“No.” My soul rages against the lie, clawing at my body, etching truths into my skin.
I ignore it, leaning in to kiss her lips, sliding my tongue into her mouth.
Stripping her clothes off slowly, I pull her on top of me, needing to sink into her warmth.
Desperate for her to dull the pain.
Sarah’s been hired to speak at a conference for physical therapy, and they’re having Skype meetings all afternoon, so she’s locked herself in the guest room, and told me I’m on my own for the rest of the day.
I’m thankful for it. I don’t want her tagging along with where I’m planning to go.
Pops is still in his recliner. He hasn’t moved all day, and my pulse ticks up when I think about the conversation that’s long overdue. I pray I’ll find the courage to have it.
But today, there’s someone else I need to make amends with.
I park in the church’s lot and sit in my car, staring at the rows of the deceased. For such a small town, there’s a lot of people buried here. I have a vague memory of where Ma’s plot is, but since I’m avoiding Lee, I can’t exactly call and ask, and there’s not a chance in hell I’ll talk about it with Pops.
I’ve been wandering for a few minutes at a leisurely pace, taking in each name, half of me hoping the next one will be Ma’s, and the other half praying I never find it.
The cemetery is pristine, hedges perfectly trimmed along the perimeter and the grass thick and green. My hand grazes over a dark gray tombstone and before I even look, I know it’s her.
Ma.
My heart trips along with my feet, the paper wrapping the tulips I bought crinkling under my sweaty palm.
The pounding in my head rattles my bones as I squat in front of the marble slab. I slowly unbind my flowers, removing the wilted ones from the vases on either side. I brush away the fallen leaves, and take painstaking time removing every single speck of debris until her name shines as much as my memory.
Maybe if I wipe away the dirt and grime, it will cleanse the tarnish off my soul.
Sinking to the ground in front of her marker, my eyes devour the words inscribed, searching for a hint of her essence through the stone.
Gail Elizabeth Carson
Your life was a blessing, Your memory a treasure. You are loved beyond words, Missed without measure.
“Hey, Ma.” My voice wedges in my throat, the words blasting me into a memory of the last time I spoke them. The last time I ever heard her voice. My chest splits open, eight years of grief escaping through the crater, raining down on my insides and crippling my composure.
“Ma, I…” My voice catches again, and I cup my mouth to stop the guttural sob that’s scratching up my esophagus.
If I speak, I’ll scream. So I stay quiet, instead. I already wrote down everything I needed to say anyway.
It could be minutes, or it could be hours that I sit in silence, but it’s not until the setting sun dances across the marble that I finally stand to leave. My body feels heavy. The burden of my turmoil being pulled by gravity, trying to anchor me to the spot.
Somehow, I force my limbs to move.
With a kiss to her name, I slip an envelope under the vase of tulips and walk away.
Ma.
Hey Ma.
Dear, Ma.
I don’t really know how I’m supposed to do this, or what it is I’m supposed to say. I’m sorry doesn’t seem good enough, but it’s all I’ve really got. And the truth is, if it weren’t for Sarah, I probably wouldn’t be here, so I’m not sure the apology even matters.
But I am, for what it’s worth. Sorry, that is.
I’m sorry I was never the son you wanted me to be. Too caught up in needing Pops’s approval to realize I already had it in you.
I’m sorry I’m still not the son I need to be. I’m trying to do better. Think you can ask the big guy for some grace?
I didn’t know, Ma. I didn’t realize you were the glue holding our family together.
I’m sorry for not realizing how you were the center of every goddamn thing. You always told me to find my sun, but Ma, I already had it in you.
I didn’t know true darkness until you were gone.
I’m sorry for not coming to see you sooner. More. At all. Even now, the thought of going to your plot makes my stomach turn and my chest cave in. If I stay away, I can pretend that you’re still here… that I’m still just too busy to reach out, and nothing’s really changed.
Visiting your grave is admitting reality isn’t what I want it to be.
But can I tell you a secret? I already know it’s not.
You know I dream of you? It’s always the same memory. My last practice of high school. I was rushing out the door, and you were standing in the kitchen, that red and white cherry apron you always wore tied around your waist. You called my name and pulled me in your arms, telling me to enjoy the moment. To soak in every second of my last days with the team. I scoffed, patting your back and pulling out of your embrace, worried about Pops finding out I was running late.
But in my dreams… I grab on tight and squeeze you so hard I’m afraid I’ll leave a bruise, trying to soak you in for as long as I can.
To bask in your glow.
You always slip away anyway, and I wake up with my fingers grasping air.
Not loving you enough when I had the chance is one of my biggest regrets.
I found someone. I think you’d like her. Someone who can marry me in the church you married Pops in. Someone who won’t destroy the battered pieces of my soul if she decides to leave.
But she isn’t the one who cures my “lonely heart.”
… I don’t know if I can go through with it.
So, I guess I’m sorry for that too.
I love you, Ma.
Forever.
-Eli
41
Becca
This Saturday is Sam’s retirement party, and it seems like everyone is talking about it. Personally, I just can’t wait for it to be over. Ninety percent of the town will be there, and eighty percent of them think I’m lower than the scum on their shoes.
But none of that bothers me as much as knowing Eli will be there, cuddled up with his perfect fiancée. I already spend too much time with them as it is.
For the thousandth time, I consider how different my life would have turned out if I had made different choices. I was this close to freedom.
I need to talk to Jeremy. He’s the only one who knows what happened with Eli and me all those years ago. But it’s hard to find time to chat. Between him being the point guard for a team in California, and his secret life of loving dick, he’s always busy, even on the off season, so we have to schedule times to talk. It’s been a few months since I’ve even spoken to him, and I’m anxious to get the news of Eli’s return off my chest.
My phone rings and I swipe up, grinning when I see Jeremy’s boyish smile fill my screen.
“Hey, Jer.”
“Hey, sweet cheeks. How ya doing down there in Hell’s Pit?”
I fall back on my bed and hold the phone above my head, puffing out my bottom lip. “Shitty.”
“Yeah.” He grimaces. “I figured.”
Over the years, I’ve opened up to Jeremy about what life was like growing up in Sugarlake. He’s convinced my mind is warped, thanks to my dysfunctional family history. He’s always trying to psychoanalyze me, even though I’m the one with the psychology degree.
I groan, dragging my hand down my face. “You’ve got no idea.”
His brow arches as he takes a sip of his Coke. “No? Well lay it on me, girl.”
I wrap a curl around my finger, tugging until it stings. “Eli’s back.”
Jeremy chokes, hunching forward and grabbing his chest. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Yeah.” Tears burn my nose and choke my throat, but I bite them back. “He’s gettin’ married to that girl he worked with when we were students. Sarah.” I sigh. “Papa’s makin’ me plan their weddin’.”
“You’re kidding.”
I shake my head. “I’m not.”
“Holy shit, Becca. Are you… are you okay?”
“Yeah… no.”
His cheeks puff out with his breath. “Tell me everything. Right now.”
So I do. I rehash every painstaking moment of interaction. How it feels like I’m standing on a ledge, my mind pushing me forward and my heart pulling me back. How whenever I’m around Eli, it’s easy to forget the reasons I left. I talk for what feels like hours, and Jeremy listens to it all, like he always does.
“I just don’t know what to do, Jer.”
He sighs. “You know what you need to do, Becca.”
I don’t want to hear what he’s about to say, even though deep down, I already know what it is—I already know that it’s right. The tears I’ve held back cling to my lashes, blurring my vision. I close my eyes, shaking my head.
“You do.” His voice is stern. “Give that man his closure and then… you have to suck it the hell up and step back. Let him be happy.”
My heart screams in protest. “But he doesn’t seem happy.”
Beneath the Stands: An Enemies to Lovers, Best Friend's Brother Romance (Sugarlake Series, Book Two) Page 20
