I expected to meet Nick out by the gate, but instead he was waiting for me at the bottom of the porch. The Aspen chill rubbed across my exposed skin, crisping my nose and lips, burning deep in my windpipe as it flooded my lungs. Nick reached up and grabbed my suitcase before snatching my carry-on from my shoulder. I couldn’t tell if the ledges of my eyelids stung from the cold or from my overwhelming anguish. I didn’t want to fall apart in front of him, so I pulled on my jacket and made sure to look down at the earthen granite porch as I left Max and his family.
With every step, my stomach ached and twisted, swirling with the unbearable pain of walking away from my first love. My head pounded as it filled with a semi-truck’s worth of pressure from holding back my tears. My shoulders rounded forward as I felt Nick’s huge, warm hand press against the small of my back. Words weren’t wasted between us; his body language attempted to speak to me instead.
Nick pulled the passenger door open and waited for me to melt into the seat before he tossed my bags into the back of his black Toyota Sequoia. I busied myself with watching my dimpled, red fingers wash to dead white as I wrung them together in my lap. I noticed the hands on the watch Max gave me had the audacity to tick away. This was time we were supposed to be spending together.
Nick slipped into the driver’s side. I waited for an awkward moment before I looked up at him. His eyes, narrowed and dark brown, weren’t fixed on me but past me, through my window. I looked back and saw the man I loved more than anything, buried in abandonment. He looked wrecked by the vision of me leaving with Nick. Max was framed in a window that kept him out of reach, his mouth eclipsed by his breath against the glass. I watched sporadic pieces of his onyx hair tumble toward the bridge of his nose as he lowered his head.
Looking down, I reflexively held the heart and key pendant Max had given me. My body rippled as Nick pulled away. Even though I knew it was for the best—for Max’s best—it still didn’t make it any easier to drive away from him. But it felt like he wouldn’t take care of his family the way he needed to if I was around.
But what if I was wrong? What if my choice to walk away damaged him more than if I stayed and fought for what we both believed in? I wanted him to fight for me. I wanted him to bust out of his front door and stop Nick from driving away.
“Wilson—are you okay?” Nick mumbled across the car as he drove out through the Goldsteins’ gate.
I tried to respond but all I could do was nod. I couldn’t look at him; I didn’t want to blather or lose the tiny bit of control I still had.
“It’s okay. When you’re ready to talk…” Nick whispered as I felt my body lean and move with every turn he took.
It felt like my skin wasn’t my own, like my soul hovered just above the space my body occupied. Moments of regret poured through my mind, liquid as many memories of my life before Max. My future began to soften to nothing more than distant hopes for a life I could have had. Suddenly I couldn’t catch my breath. I was falling from grace, and the only person who could catch me was over a thousand miles away. I needed Joanie more than ever. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed her number.
She answered with anticipation and I couldn’t speak. The sound of her voice created a bubble that crashed into my vocal chords and held me captive. I froze in the inability to form the words that wanted to spill out and plaster her with my pain. I sat in Nick’s cold passenger seat and wept, unable to make a coherent sentence.
“Wilson—what happened?” Joanie demanded before asking again.
“Are you okay? What happened?”
“Jaaayyyy—” I sobbed.
“Wilson, where are you? What happened?” Joanie insisted.
“I left…Max.”
“Oh honey, where are you?” Joanie said.
“Nick,” I whimpered.
“You’re with him now? Sweetheart, give him the phone. Let me talk to Nick. It’s going to be okay, it’ll be okay,” Joanie reassured me.
I pulled the phone away from my ear and held it out to Nick. It felt like it hung in my hand for years before he grabbed it. Suddenly every moment I held onto with any sort of relevance was gone. I started to feel the chill that hijacked the edge of my ear, burning with Joanie’s promises. I needed her more than air. She knew me, and had lived through every loss I’d had since I was nine years old.
Nick took the phone and I could hear him talking to Joanie. “Hiya—yeah, not the best way to meet, but under the circumstances—yeah, I’ve got her—something with Max—no—she didn’t say. I don’t know either—no problem. I’m taking her back to my place. That would be good, but I don’t think you’ll get a direct flight…” Nick’s voice warped into inaudible grunts and moans as I fell deeper into my despair. I felt fire burn through my heart and razors slash across my blazingly flawed intentions.
He held the phone back out to me. I didn’t know if I could take hearing her voice again, but I snatched the phone; it seemed heavier than I remembered.
“Wilson? You there? Listen, I’m getting a flight; I will be there as soon as I can. You hear me? I’ll be there with you as soon as I can,” Joanie spoke intently.
“Kay,” I choked in a whisper.
The thought of my best friend coming to be with me as my world was crashing down gave me the ability to breathe a little deeper. It felt like, suddenly, there was a pocket in my chest where I could fit the air I needed to survive.
“Thanks, J,” I croaked.
“Wilson, you wanna tell me what happened?”
The phone blazed against the edges of my ear and down the side of my cheek, mimicking the scorching pain rippling from my heart up through the back of my neck and into my eyes.
As bad as I wanted to tell her what happened, I couldn’t find the power to answer her. My throat was desiccated; all I could do was keep swallowing to dampen the journey of my painfully sharp words.
“Don’t worry, Wilson, it doesn’t matter. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Joanie said in a gentle tone before the line went silent. I dropped the phone between my feet as I turned and looked out the window into the white, voided space, gray with my anguish. The heater blew warm air across my face, attempting to dry the lines of my tears.
Suddenly Cindy’s face flashed across my mind. I hadn’t considered that she was Nick’s sister, and the most recent thorn in my side. I guess my mind wasn’t able to process so many things at once.
“Nick, stop the car. I can’t go to your house—Cindy is there. She can’t know I’m in town.” I felt my stomach somersault as her name rolled off my tongue.
“She’s not home. She went to New York with her Seasonals. She was waiting for her ride when I left to get you,” Nick said.
“Maybe she’s still there,” I posited.
“She’s not. Her friend Jillian was picking her up,” he reassured me.
“As a matter of fact, it will be just us—you and me. My parents had to go to Florida for three days.”
My heart skipped and my skin vibrated with a slow chill. My windpipe dried as the words I wanted to say to him evaporated. It wasn’t like I was nervous to be alone with him. Actually, I found it comforting to know I wasn’t going to have to foster relationships with people I didn’t know or care to be with. Nick was my friend, someone who cared about me and what I was going through. Better than anything, he was patient enough to wait for me, even if he didn’t know what he was waiting for.
“Don’t worry, Wilson,” Nick said as his hand sailed across the space between us and landed on my knee. I felt the frog struggle down my throat. We’re just friends.
The hefty wrought-iron gate, decorated with an enormous department store sized wreath, swung open as he pulled down into his driveway. I felt my heartbeat throb through my chest as he parked the Sequoia in the same space he did the last time I was there. I felt an emptiness begin to fill my heart as I suddenly realized it was the holiday season, something that didn’t resonate until now.
“Wait here,” Nick said as he got out o
f the SUV.
Thoughts flew through my head. What was I thinking having him pick me up and bring me here? Coming here was like heading for the lion’s den without a whip or chair to give me a fighting chance. Cindy was the absolute last person that needed to know that I was in Aspen.
Oh, man, I forgot how amazing the front porch of this cabin was. The sun glistened across the huge chandelier and sent a warm glow flickering across the Italian marble entry. The swags of fresh garland were wrapped symmetrically around the railings with just enough twinkly lights and red bows. I watched Nick jog up the steps and vanish behind the huge front door, which sported a smaller version of a wreath like the one on the gate. I started to feel the cold creeping across my skin, overcoming the space in the SUV. He seemed to be gone for an uncomfortable amount of time; just long enough to play with my confidence about Cindy not being home.
Finally, the front door swung open and I watched Nick as he ran back to me.
“Okay, nobody’s home. Just you and me.”
He helped me out of the Sequoia. I felt my feet land on the driveway, and instantly I was grounded to what I’d just lost with Max. I felt my knees buckle and the gravity of my actions press across my shoulders.
“Whoa. Easy, Wilson.” Nick wrapped his arm around my waist. A space always reserved for Max. I closed my eyes and let the warmth of his hand comfort me.
The Aspen chill bit at my nose and licked my cheeks as my tears tracked down to the edge of my jaw. God, I wish I could be apathetic. But that would be too easy.
Nick walked me into his house, pushing the door and holding me up as I slipped off my boots in the foyer. All I wanted to do was lie down and wallow in what I’d lost. But the minute I saw the imperial staircase, every memory of Max swallowed me entirely and I couldn’t make it further than the space I stood.
It all came flooding back—the familiar anxiousness of trying to find him the night Cindy was going to blackmail him; the weight of climbing the stairs and hating the thought of Max with someone who wasn’t me; our first kiss in the bathroom; and the butterflies that now lay dead and motionless in my gut.
My heart broke as I wished, more than anything, that Max would come for me. I turned back to Nick. He must have noticed I was about to crash and burn because he pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around me.
“It’s okay. Shhh, I’m here, Wilson.” Nick held me as I wept. His hands brushed up and down my back. I wasn’t going to lose it with him; it wasn’t my intention to fall apart in the foyer of the Browlers’ cabin.
“I’m—sor—ry Nick,” I choked.
“No worries,” Nick whispered, his breath warm against the side of my head. His body swayed a soothing rhythm, back and forth. “Do you want to go upstairs? Maybe lay down?” he asked as he pulled away just enough to unbury my face from his chest.
Nick acted like handling crying girls occurred all the time. He patiently led me to the staircase and held me as I struggled for the strength to climb each stair. With every flex of my muscles, memories of Max’s touch haunted my soul—his hands caressing my thigh, his fingers tangling in my hair, his lips discovering every bend of my skin—as painful today as it was pleasurable then.
Nick and I reached the top of the stairs. The long, wide hall was sprinkled with doors all leading to the memories of Max and me. At the end, a massive plate-glass window tempted the freedom of Aspen into my heartbreaking burden. I stood there, crushed, as the walls scolded me for abandoning Max when he needed me the most. Suddenly my choice to leave him created massive holes, seeming to destroy any chance I’d had to spend the rest of my life with him, the man I loved more than anything. I felt my body give up and my knees buckle under its weight. Dramatic or not, something happens when you realize your life will never be the same again. Instantly I felt the plushly carpeted floor meet my body.
I woke up in the Browlers’ guest bedroom—on the bed, on top of the comforter, fully dressed. I was in the same room I’d stayed in the last time I was in Aspen. The room where Max and I confessed how we felt about each other, in the same bed where we mapped each other’s bodies for the first time. I woke up only to drown in memories too painful to relive right now.
“Hey, you,” Nick mused as he got up from a puffy, dark brown chair next to the bed. His hand hovered between us before he brushed his fingertips against my shoulder.
“Did I pass out? I remember coming into the cabin—climbing the stairs—and then nothing…” I asked, growly. Okay, truthfully? I know I passed out.
Hell, the pressure of how much I screwed up with Max pounded me across my chest. Every discovery we had here was tainted and destroyed when I decided to leave him.
“Yeah, you got to the top of the stairs and boom, you went down. But I’m glad to see you coherent,” Nick smiled.
What does that mean? Coherent? Was I babbling?
“How long was I out?”
“Actually, you were out for a couple of hours. I was getting worried.”
I felt a knot tie in my gut. I wonder if Max texted me or called. I pulled my phone out from my pocket—nothing.
“Well, thanks for saving me again,” I said as I tossed my phone on the nightstand and wiggled to sit up. I felt a chill gurgle low in my stomach.
Nick tucked a couple of pillows behind my back, his eyes asking if he was doing the right thing. With his arms around my shoulders, his face so close to mine, I could feel the heat of his breath warm my cheek.
“Thank you,” I whispered. I wanted to press the side of my face against his lips and stop the scorching ache in my head. I wanted to feel that I was going to be okay. I wanted the reassurance that I’d made the right choice. And I wanted to be told that, eventually, the pain would vanish.
Nick sat next to me on the bed. I watched the tempo of his heart speed through the side of his neck.
“Do you need a glass of water? Maybe something to eat? I could have Lupita bring something up for you.” Nick stroked his hand meditatively across the top of my forehead, tucking the loose wisps behind my ear and out of my eyes.
“I’m okay,” I mumbled through tears.
“Really? Because you don’t look okay. Let me ask Lupita to make you something to eat.” Nick stood up.
“Don’t go—” I caught his hand and pulled him toward me. “I don’t want to be alone,” I whispered. I didn’t want to be given any time to work myself into knots about being in this room with all the memories of Max.
“Okay, I’ll be here as long as you need me,” Nick whispered as he sat on the bed next to me.
I held Nick’s hand the entire time. I could feel the dampness between our fingers and the chill that brushed across my hand when he decided to rub his thumb across the back of mine.
“Thanks,” I said as I leaned my head against his shoulder. I felt his face turn into my hair and inhale. Chills vibrated across my scalp as I felt his lips press.
“You’re welcome, Wilson.” His words were muffled by my hair and I could feel him shift.
Nick and I are nothing more than friends. There was a time he wanted more, but he accepted that I was with Max.
Nick’s other hand caressed the inside of my forearm.
“It…it kills me to see you hurting like this,” Nick growled in a whisper. His dark brown eyes matched every word he spoke. His hands raged hot against my skin.
What is this? Am I sending the wrong message to Nick? He knows I love Max, and that Max is everything to me.
“Wilson, you deserve so much more,” Nick mumbled. Salted tears streamed down my cheeks, tightening my skin under their tracks. Nick pressed the backs of his fingers against my teardrops; his fingers cooled my feverish skin.
Why hasn’t Max called or texted me yet?
I looked down at Nick and my hands, before my arm ran cold. Nick pushed his fingers up under my chin and my eyes met his for a narrow moment.
“Nick—it isn’t like that—” I choked on the words.
“I just wanted you to know—”
he spoke over my bumbling attempt to explain.
“—I just need a friend,” I answered.
“Okay, I’ll be whatever you need,” he breathed. I felt my heart gallop in the base of my neck.
Why didn’t Max come after me? Why did he watch me leave without a fight? Maybe it was his mom’s words. Nancy will never forgive me for lying to her. What was I thinking? I knew our lie would eventually bust our relationship wide open.
“I think I need to go and freshen up,” I moaned as I pressed my fingertips to the tops of my cheeks, drying the remaining tears.
“Good, then I’ll get you something to drink,” Nick said, reaching for my hands.
“You gonna be okay?” he asked as he pulled me up off the bed.
“Yep, I just need a moment.”
I sauntered to the door, waiting for Nick to lead. Instead, he bounced down the stairs, so I decided to enter the bathroom across the hall. I pushed the door open and stared at the huge, brown leather sofa across from the granite sinks. Familiarity pulsed through my veins as I remembered that first night with Max—how my tears didn’t absorb into the arctic cold leather cushions as I cried. I pivoted toward the sinks; instantly reliving the flavor of Max as he pressed his body against me and I tasted our first kiss. I felt a crushing, lonely pain.
The Wilson Mooney Box Set Page 45
