Mine Would Be You

by Danielle Jamie

  Lawson’s body becomes rigid and he stops when his feet hit the pathway leading up to my stairs. “You can believe whatever you want to, Em, but I swear to you it wasn’t easy then, and it sure as hell isn’t easy now. It hurts like fuckin’ hell. It hurt so damn much, and no matter what I did then or what I do now, nothing will ever take the pain away. Back then, after you left Tuscaloosa, I wanted to die. I thought if I was dead, you’d be happy, because I’d fucked up your life so badly…and Lily’s. I lost the love of my life and took away your best friend, all in the matter of seconds. Try living with that on your conscience! Believe me, it is fucking hell! No matter how much I loved you back then, I knew I was no good for you. I did you a favor pushing you away, and I’m doing it again right now. Tomorrow, you’ll thank me, because right now, it may feel like the right thing, but once you’re sober and can really ask yourself if you want to go down this road again, you know the answer will be no.”

  I’m stunned to silence as I listen to everything he’s saying. It’s dark, so it’s hard to see him standing six feet in front of me. I can only make out his shadow, but his words hit me hard, as if it’s a fist hitting me blow by blow with the cold hard truth, and no matter how badly I want to ignore it, he’s forcing me to listen.

  His hands go in the air and he curses under his breath, “Fuck,” as he paces for a moment along the pathway before stopping and facing me again. Tears are falling freely now one by one down my cheeks, but I refuse to wipe them away, so I allow them to fall from my chin onto my dress.

  “God, Emelyn. Look, I hate you’re hurting, but when you see me, all I do is bring back the pain of the past. You can’t deny it, because it’s been almost four years since I’ve seen you. I understand why you needed a clean break, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you like hell. I believed it then and I still believe it now; you’re better off without me in your life.”

  I slide down the pole, slowly collapsing onto the top stair as my cries rip through me. The pain in his eyes as he yells back up at me is too much. It’s overwhelming me and making my head spin. I’m too drunk to move. I want to stand and chase him, but at the same time, I want to let him walk away.

  He is right. He represents every ounce of pain I’ve felt over the last several years, but at the same time, he represents all the love I’ve felt for the fourteen years we were together. I’ve loved this man since I was six years old. A love like that is hard to just get over. All of that love should outweigh the pain, but for tonight, the pain from our past wins. It weights me down, making it impossible to move.

  I hug my legs against my chest and let the tears fall as I watch him vanish into the darkness. I’m angry he’s leaving me here alone crying, but at the same time, I’m happy. I’m so conflicted, and I have no idea what I want or need. I don’t know if I ever will.

  A few moments later, I hear his bike rumble to life and then disappear down the street.

  He’s gone.

  He has once again left me drowning in a puddle of tears as I feel the tiny piece of my heart that had opened back up to him tonight painfully break once again.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Lawson

  My ears are ringing as the sound of crushing metal and shattering glass explode around me, and shards of glass hit my face and arms. I feel my body being pinned to my seat by my seatbelt, the sounds of screaming and crying filling my truck, and a sudden pain shoots through my arm as my truck comes to a stop on its side, with my face pressed against my shattered driver’s side window.

  I’m trying to find my voice and call out to everyone, but it feels like a golf ball is lodged in my throat, making it impossible to speak. I taste blood, warm and metallic on my lips, as I lick them and try to call out.

  “Are you...guys...okay?” My voice is rough and low. So low that I can barely hear myself talking. It’s eerily quiet, except for the sound of someone crying behind me. It sounds close...but far away, all at the same time.

  Reaching for my seatbelt, I unhook it and somehow manage in the tight confinements of the driver’s side of my truck to get myself upright. I can feel and hear glass crunching under my feet as I step on my broken window. The ground feels soft, letting me know we must’ve rolled into a field. I try to look out the shattered windshield, but it’s pitch black without any light from the sky above, thanks to the moonless night tonight.

  I spot Emelyn in her passenger seat, thankfully with her seatbelt on, but she’s unconscious. As I reach out to touch her neck and check for a pulse, another sob, this time slightly louder, echoes through the truck, drawing my attention away from Emelyn and into the backseat. With my fingers still pressed to Emelyn’s neck, I turn my head towards the sound.

  My eyes slowly adjust to the darkness, and my sister Delilah's face comes into focus. I wipe at the blood running down my forehead into my eyes and ask, “Are you okay?”

  I feel a pulse and breathe a sigh of relief. Even though it kills me to do so, I leave Emelyn and shift my body more towards Delilah, so I can try and see her better.

  She lets out another muffled cry as she covers her mouth with her hand and nods her head slowly.

  The sound of sirens fills the air as an ambulance or another emergency vehicle approaches us in the distance.

  It hits me like a ton of bricks as I look beside Delilah that Lily isn’t sitting next to her. I suddenly find myself struggling to breathe again as I feel panic consuming me. “Delilah, where’s...Lily?” My voice cracks as I ask the question I’m not sure I want to know the answer to.

  Closing her eyes, I watch as tears begin streaming down her cheeks. She lets out another sob as she opens them back up, but this time, instead of looking at me, they focus behind me. Her hand leaves her mouth as she points at the front of the truck.

  I think she’s in shock, because she can’t speak.

  “She went through the windshield?” I feel my stomach twist with fear as the words leave my mouth.

  I feel tears burning my eyes as I quickly scramble into action. I feel my body going numb, and then I feel nothing as, more than likely, I myself am going into shock too. Using my booted foot, I kick the remainder of my windshield out. Each time my foot connects with the glass, I hear Delilah’s screams behind me. After the third time, the window falls onto the grass below.

  Turning towards Delilah, I tell her, “Unbuckle and try to get Emelyn to wake up. I’m going to see if Lily is okay. I hear sirens, so I think help is on the way.” I reach into the backseat and take her hand as she unlatches her seatbelt and tries to climb into the front.

  Climbing through the now fully open windshield, I step down onto the muddy grass that has been torn up from the truck rolling through the field. It’s so dark I can’t even see a foot in front of me.

  Reaching into my pocket, I pull my phone out and press the power button, causing the home screen to light up. It illuminates a grassy slope leading up to the road. My left arm is killing me, and it hurts to move it, so I keep it pressed against my chest as I climb the hill. With every step I take, my head throbs more as I feel blood running into my eyebrow and dripping onto the grass. Ignoring the pain, I sweep my phone side to side and yell out, “Lily! Lily! If you hear me, please yell to me so I can find you.”

  The tears that have been clouding my vision start to fall, zigzagging down my face, burning my now cold skin as I spot Lily on the road, lying facedown. Her arm is bent in a way that doesn’t seem physically possible.

  I feel my stomach heave as I sprint towards her. “Lily! I’m here now...everything’s going to be okay.”

  Her body is covered in blood...so much blood. I’m afraid to touch her, but I want her to know she’s not alone.

  How did I allow this to happen?

  I reach for her wrist and have to hold back the bile rising in my throat as I try not to look at the road burn covering every inch of her body. I feel a pulse, but it’s very faint.

  Looking around frantically, I scream for help as I see two ambulances quickly approach
ing. “Help us! Please…help us! My friend is hurt, and my girlfriend and sister are still back in the truck!”

  The sound of someone knocking on my bedroom door stirs me awake.

  “Lawson? Are you all right, sweetie?”

  I hear the sound of my mother’s voice coming through the door.

  Every inch of my body aches as I stretch in my bed and sit up. It still feels strange sleeping in this room. Especially with all the memories I have in here with Emelyn.

  I rub at my eyes and feel wet tears on my eyelashes. I was crying in my sleep.

  My mother knocks again. Before she gets a chance to yell to me again, I shout through the door, “I’m okay, Ma. Just had a bad dream is all. Everything’s fine.”

  Kicking my blankets off, I swing my feet over the edge of the bed and climb to my feet. I have a million thoughts running through my mind right now. I can’t even remember the last time I dreamt about the accident. I used to be plagued with nightmares over it, but after years of therapy, I’ve finally gotten to a good place in my life, where I am accepting of what happened and my part that I played in it all.

  After everything happened with Emelyn last night, it got me thinking about Lily. It’s the only explanation I can think of as to why I’m dreaming about that night. It has to be things with Emelyn triggered something inside of me causing the nightmares to return. I can only hope it won’t be a daily recurrence, because that’s a time in my life I’d rather not relive every single night.

  My mom, knowing me all too well, doesn’t pry any further and quickly disappears from the other side of my door, more than likely downstairs to whip up another monstrous breakfast. Ever since I got to town, she’s been baking up a storm and cooking massive meals. She hasn’t been opening her florist shop until noon every day since I came to town for the wedding. I keep telling her she doesn’t need to do that, but she insists she needs to cherish the mornings with me, because before she knows it, I’ll be back in Birmingham.

  I, for one, cannot wait to go back home. The farther I am away from Emelyn, the better. Being in her life just isn’t an option anymore. That ship sailed years ago. I know being around one another is stirring up all those old feelings, but there’s too much heartache between us for there to ever be a possibility of us being happy together again.

  I’m nothing but a constant reminder of the worst time in her life. That’s all I’ll ever be. No matter how badly I wish that not to be true, there’s no getting over it. I love that girl with everything I have, but I’ve learned the hard way love isn’t enough when the love you have is tarnished by so much heartache and betrayal.

  I can’t stop replaying last night in my head, especially that kiss and then the look of devastation in her eyes as I walked away from her once again. Delilah will probably tear me a new one the next time I see her, because she warned me to stay away from Emelyn. I couldn’t listen. Once I was back around her, I couldn’t help but ignore the warning alarms going off in my head. Instead, I chose to listen to my heart and my dick. The two things that, without a doubt, always lead a guy to trouble.

  I need to go for a run, do something to burn off this negativity buzzing in my head. I need to clear my mind and try to think of a way to fix this. I need to find a way to give Emelyn the closure we both need, so we can get through this wedding without something catastrophic occurring and ruining Grayson and Delilah’s big day.

  Being that this is Alabama and it’s June, it’s no shocker that it’s already hotter than a witch’s titty outside, and humid as all hell. Wearing nothing but basketball shorts, sneakers, and my iPod strapped to my arm, I set out on a run.

  I don’t get past one mile and I’m huffing and puffy, feeling as if I’m about to fall face-first into the asphalt.

  I seriously need to quit smoking.

  Stopping on the side of the road, I lean over, resting my hands on my knees, and try to catch my breath. As the feeling of passing out finally passes, I sit up and glance around to see where I am. I was running in such a daze that I didn’t even pay attention to where I was going. My heart slams in my chest then freezes in place as I spot the cemetery on the other side of the road.

  I’ve been putting off visiting her grave since the day I got here. My mother told me the wreath is ready to be picked up, but I can’t seem to find the strength to see her yet.

  I don’t know how long I stand on the sidewalk, staring at the cast-iron gate that leads inside the cemetery. With my nightmare still fresh in my mind, and now being here so close to where her grave is, I find my head spinning more than it was before I left for my run.

  The sound of a horn beeping behind me startles me, forcing my mind to come back to the here and now and pulling me out of my dark thoughts.

  Spinning on the heels of my sneakers, I see my sister Delilah parked beside the curb and leaning towards the passenger side door, shouting to me, “Hey, you! What the hell are you doing? Running?”

  Laughing, I shake off the bad energy weighing me down and step off the sidewalk to lean into her car window. “Yeah, I thought a jog was a good idea. That is until I remember that my chain smoking ass doesn’t run anymore.”

  When I was in high school and college, I used to run five miles a day and work out religiously. Now, I do the whole gym thing four days a week, but running—not so much.

  “Well, I’ve only said it a gazillion times, but what the hell is one more time?” She has that pessimistic tone thing going on right now, so I brace myself for another ‘smoking is going to kill you’ spiel she gives me every time the topic comes up. “You’ve been saying for months you were going to try and quit. I say, why don’t you put your money where your mouth is and just quit already? Toss your pack in the trash and never look back. Unless you think walking around with an oxygen tank like great-grandpa sounds like a fun way to spend your life.”

  Rolling my eyes, I let out an aggravated sigh. “Thanks for the tip, sis, but unless you want a miserable asshole for a best man at your wedding, I think it’s best for everyone if I wait until I go home to try your whole ‘cold turkey’ idea.”

  “Good point,” she says, giving me a forced smile. I know she’s stressing over the wedding—or should I say, over Emelyn and me at her wedding.

  “Where are you off to now?” I ask as I run a hand through my damp hair, brushing it out of my eyes. It’s getting hotter by the minute, and I find myself wishing I would’ve opted for a pancake induced coma, rather than a run to help me forget about the fucking nightmare this morning.

  Walking. Running back to my mother’s in this heat isn’t an option. I didn’t bring my wallet, so it’s not like I can just flag a damn taxi down.

  Shrugging her shoulders, she says, “Heading to the cafe to get a cup of coffee to go then going home to do some more wedding DIY stuff. Why?”

  I suddenly remember she always goes for coffee with Emelyn in the morning. “Oh, are you and Emelyn doing wedding stuff all day? If so, I won’t bother you. I won’t die—at least, I hope I won’t—walking back to Mom and Dad’s.”

  “Emelyn bailed on me this morning, saying something about too much wine and not leaving her bed today. So I’m flying solo this morning. If you want a ride, hop in. I’ll even grab you a cup of coffee to perk your miserable ass up.”

  Opening the car door, I climb in and slam it shut before buckling up. Glaring at her out of the corner of my eye, I play with her radio until I find a song I like, turning off her pop country shit. “I’m not miserable, you brat.”

  “Whatever you say, big brother.” We drive in silence for a few moments and I find my mind drifting to Emelyn and her bed. I mentally kicking myself for leaving her the way I did last night.

  As soon as I see the firehouse as we pass by it and pull up to the coffee shop, I wonder about her and that Tucker guy. He’s the kind of guy she deserves. No matter how much I love her and wish we could be together, I know deep down she deserves better than me.

  “You still drink your coffee black?” Delilah as
ks as she leans into the backseat to grab her purse.

  “Yup.”

  She makes a face of disgust as she pushes open her door and climbs out. “I don’t understand how people can enjoy black coffee. Just the thought of drinking it makes me gag.”

  “Different strokes for different folks, sis.”

  Ignoring me, she slams the door shut, flings her purse onto her shoulder, and disappears inside.

  As I take in the main street of Lincoln and watch as everyone rushing to work, or God knows what else, I think of how much this place has changed over the last few years. It’s hard to even consider this place as my hometown now. It feels foreign to me. The people, the places. This town was once a place I could come home to after being away, and feel happy and carefree. I loved getting together with my friends and going boating, fishing, or hunting.

  After Lily’s death and the break up with Emelyn, that all changed. I stopped coming home. I lost contact with friends and family. Little by little, this town turned into a place I dreaded coming to. I was always worried I’d run into Emelyn and bring her more pain, when she’s suffered enough to last her a few life times.

  Even after all the time that has passed, I still feel as if everyone sees me as the kid who got drunk and killed his sister’s friend. It’s like a dark cloud that is stuck over my head every single time I come back to this damn town. My mom swears people don’t feel that way, that they view all of us as victims. But when I see people in town and they say hello in passing, I see it in their eyes. They don’t see me as a victim; they look at me like, ‘There he is…the kid who got away with killing that poor girl.’

  More than a few people in this town were none too thrilled when they learned I wasn’t being thrown in jail for the rest of my life. I made one mistake, and it cost me a whole hell of a lot. It cost Lily even more. No one can hate me more than I hate myself. But it doesn’t make the pain of what happened hurt any less, or the guilt go away any sooner. I doubt it’ll ever completely go away.