On Solid Ground (A Touch of Fate)

by K. L. Grayson

  “Are you okay?” Tyson asks, offering me his hand. I nod and take it willingly as he guides me into the bedroom and toward the bed. He watches me carefully for a few seconds, and as his sympathetic eyes roam my face, I decide that I have to get everything out in the open before it continues to make me sick.

  “We need to talk,” I say. Tyson’s eyes widen a fraction, and he rubs a hand along the back of his neck.

  “Okay.” He nods, and his next words catch me off guard. “I need to talk to you too.” Once again my stomach rolls. I have no idea why I’m assuming the worst though. He’s never given me a reason not to trust him—at least not until now. “You go first.”

  Biting my lip, I contemplate the best way to go about this … and then I realize that I shouldn’t be nervous. He’s the one that’s keeping secrets.

  “Where were you after work yesterday?”

  Tyson quickly averts his eyes before looking back at me. I know—I just know—that if he lies to me, it’ll break every ounce of trust that I have in him.

  “I was with Brit.”

  My heart races inside my chest, and I shove away from the table, causing my chair to topple over. “You lied to me,” I hiss.

  “No.” Tyson’s eyes nearly bug out of his head and he stands up. “I didn’t lie to you—”

  “Yes.” I nod. “Yes, you did. You got home from work, I asked you how your day was and you told me all about what happened at the hospital. You never once mentioned Brit. Why didn’t you tell me about her?” I ask, my voice getting louder and my words faster by the second. “Are you fucking her?”

  Tyson flinches as though I just slapped him. Funny, because right now I’d really like to slap him. “What? No! Absolutely not. How could you think that?”

  “Well, what the hell do you expect me to think? I looked at your phone and there it wa—”

  “You looked up my phone?” Scrunching his brows, he looks at the table and scoops up his phone, then pulls up the messages. His eyes scan the screen, his jaw clenching tight, and when he looks back up at me, his are shining with contempt. “You checked my messages.” His voice is calm and void of emotion.

  “Oh no,” I say, taking a step back. “Don’t you dare try to turn this around on me. Don’t act like we don’t check each other’s phones because you know damn well we always do.”

  “Oh, I’m not turning it around,” he seethes. “I’m just wondering if you’ve been using that as an excuse to check up on me.” He shakes his head, running his fingers through his thick brown hair. “How long, Harley?”

  How the hell did this get turned around on me?

  Pinching my lips together, I fist my hands at my side. Without warning, my throat clogs and my eyes blur. “Fuck,” I whisper. Spinning away, I look up at the ceiling, willing myself not to cry.

  Fucking hormones.

  I hear Tyson sigh and then his feet shuffle against the floor. “Baby.” He grips my shoulder and I shake him off. “Harley, please look at me.” He steps in front of me and I twirl around. My emotions are all over the place right now and I know I’m being childish, but if the tremble in my chin is any indication, I’m two seconds away from losing my shit. I want him to hold me and assure me that this is all a big misunderstanding, but I’ve been burned one too many times and I don’t think I’ll survive it again.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, pressing his chest against my back. The warmth of his body is so incredibly inviting, but I can’t allow myself to melt into him. “Please, just sit down and let me explain. You’re blowing this up into so much more than it should be.”

  “Did you or did you not meet with her yesterday?” I ask between clenched teeth. Spinning around, I nearly fall over at Tyson’s close proximity, and he reaches a hand out and snags my arm, keeping me upright. His touch alone sends shocks of electricity through my body, and I yank my arm away.

  His eyes flash with surprise and he swallows hard. “Yes,” he says, nodding. “But—”

  “No ‘buts.’” Shaking my head, I cross my arms over my chest. “You had the chance to tell me and you didn’t. You chose to keep it to yourself, knowing how upset it would make me.”

  “Don’t you see?” he says, taking a step toward me with his hands outstretched. “I was trying to figure out the best way to tell you. I wanted to tell you last night, but Max was here and I knew this would happen,” he says, waving his hand between us. “I know you, Harley. I would’ve mentioned Brit’s name and you would’ve flown off the handle, just like you are now.”

  “Oh, well that’s just great,” I say. “Thank you for making me feel like a complete bitch.” My voice wavers, cracking on the last few words, and Tyson reaches for me. I turn away, embarrassed and hurt, but he doesn’t give up, and when he catches my arm in his hand, my resolve melts.

  “I’m sorry I made you feel like that,” he says, pulling me in close and wrapping me in his arms. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that—”

  “I know,” I interrupt, wiping my tears on his shirt. “I overreact. She brings out all sorts of insecurities in me, and … and …”

  “What?” Tyson’s grip on me tightens, and when I don’t immediately answer, he kisses the top of my head. “Tell me,” he whispers.

  “You left me for her once, so who’s to say you won’t—”

  “Don’t. Don’t say it.” Tyson’s voice is strong and holds a firm warning. I snap my mouth shut, burying my face in his chest. “How many times do I have to apologize to you for that? Walking away from you was the worst mistake I’ve ever made, and I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting it. I’m sorry, Harley. I’m so sorry. And I don’t know what else to say to make you believe me. As much as I wish I could, I can’t change the past.” The pain in his voice nearly brings me to my knees. Fisting my hands in the front of his shirt, I pull back just enough so I can look into his eyes.

  “I don’t want you to apologize,” I say. “I believe you, and I’ve forgiven you. It’s just that ...”

  “It’s just what?” he asks when my words trail off. I take a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts. “Just say it,” he yells.

  “Now I’m doubting you.” The words fall from my mouth, and when he flinches, I instantly regret the way they came out.

  Tyson slips from my arms and takes a couple of steps back, and I’m left feeling cold and empty at the loss of his body against mine. “But if you really believe me and have honestly forgiven me, then you have no reason to doubt me. No reason to snoop—”

  “I wasn’t snooping.”

  Tyson ignores my comment and looks at some unknown object over my shoulder. His eyes are cold and distant, and I’m left wondering how in the hell we got here. “It doesn’t matter if you were snooping. That’s not the point. The point is that you don’t trust me.”

  “But why?” I holler. “Why lie to me if you have nothing to hide? If you’re not screwing around with her behind my back, then—”

  “What?” he snaps, his voice rumbling with anger. “You honestly think that I’d do that to you?”

  Right now I don’t know which way is up. “I don’t know what to think.”

  Tyson nods and pushes his hands deep in his pockets. “Well”—his eyes bore into mine as though he’s waiting for me say something—“then I guess we’re done here.”

  My chest tightens. “Just like that?” I cry, tossing my hands up. “You’re gonna walk away from us just like that?”

  “Jesus Christ, Harley,” he whispers. “No. But all we’re doing is dancing in circles, and we both have to be at work in an hour and Max is still asleep.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  “I totally overreacted, didn’t I?”

  “Of course you did,” Quinn says without a second thought. And this is why I love her. I know she’ll always tell me the truth.

  Quinn has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. She’s seen me at my worst, my best, and everything in between. “But you’re entitled to b
e a little crazy right now. You are pregnant, and if I remember correctly from Sex Ed, those little shits do horrible things to the body.”

  “Quinn.” I laugh, nearly choking on a bite of my banana. “Do you even remember Sex Ed? Wasn’t that like ten … no”—I scrunch my nose, trying to calculate just how long it’s been since we were in high school—“shit,” I hiss.

  “What? What is it?” she says, sounding worried.

  “We’re getting old.”

  “No,” Quinn states, matter of fact. “We are not going to have this conversation.”

  “What conversation?” I shrug even though she can’t see me, and then adjust the phone between my cheek and my ear.

  “The one where you tell me that I’m thirty and it’s time I settle down and have babies. Well, listen up, missy. Thirty is not old. And when your tits are hanging down to your knees, mine will be perfectly round and perky.”

  “Yes, but who will rub your feet at night when you’re tired?”

  “I don’t need anyone to rub my feet,” she scoffs.

  “What happens when you get old and can’t take care of yourself? You won’t have a husband or kids to take care of you. What will you do then?”

  “You and Max.”

  “Me and Max what?” I ask.

  “I have you, Max, Tyson, and now the baby. You guys can take care of me.”

  “Oh, Quinny, we need to find you a man.” I love that she was able to take my mind off of things for a hot second, but her mention of my man brings my problems back into focus.

  “Goodbye, Harley.”

  “Don’t hang up,” I beg. I’ve done nothing but stew over my argument with Tyson, and right now I’m desperate for her advice. “I need you to tell me what to do about Ty.”

  “Babe.” Quinn sighs. “I hate to tell you this, but you need to apologize. And then you need to give him the chance to explain everyth—”

  “But I—”

  “Without interrupting,” she says with a hint of amusement in her voice. “You’re going to sit there like a good little girl and let your sexy-as-hell doctor fiancé tell you where he went with his ex-fiancé, how long they were there and every single thing they talked about. Afterward, you’re going to apologize again for your crazy hormonal self and then you’re going to bang the shit out of that man.”

  I smile. “That sounds like a good plan.”

  “That’s because it is,” she says confidently. “And you know he would never cheat on you, right? Harley, that man thinks you hang the moon.”

  “No, he doesn’t,” I scoff.

  “If you don’t believe that, then you need to open your eyes and see him and your relationship for what it is. Harley”—Quinn sighs again—“he is head over heels in love with you. He’s proven that, not only to you and Max, but also to your family and friends. I know that the texts looked bad, but give the man the benefit of the doubt. Trust. Him.”

  “I do trust him.” I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince Quinn or myself, but when I say the words out loud, the uncertainty in my voice rings clear and a tight band constricts around my heart.

  “Do you?” Quinn asks.

  “Yes.” I hesitate and then close my eyes. “I want to trust him.”

  “Babe, I love you to death and you’re my best friend. And I know that things haven’t always been easy for you, but if you want to have the happily ever after you’ve always dreamed of, then you have to let go of all of those insecurities you’ve been holding on to. You have to open yourself up, Harley.”

  I thought I had. I thought that I was past all of this. Obviously, I’m not. “But what if I get hurt again?” Stupid question, I know, considering that Tyson and I have been together for a while now, and he’s been nothing but perfect and wonderful.

  “What if you don’t?”

  Shit, she’s right. “I feel horrible,” I say, dropping my head into my hand. “I can’t believe I acted like that. I didn’t even let him talk. That isn’t like me at all.” Suddenly, I feel nauseated again. I drop my banana on the table and take a drink of my water. For the hundredth time, my mind goes over our argument and all of the things I could have and should have said differently. “He has every right to be mad at me. What if he doesn’t forgive me?”

  “He will. The big oaf loves you.”

  A couple of tears drip down my face as I remember the look in Tyson’s eyes when he walked away this morning. He thinks I don’t trust him. “Thank you, Quinn.”

  “No need to thank me. That’s what badass friends are for.”

  “Harley?” Wait a minute … that’s not Quinn. My head pops up, and I’m looking at none other than Brit herself … in blue surgical scrubs … with a stethoscope hanging around her neck.

  “Brit,” I say, eyes wide and heart pounding.

  “What?” Quinn says, her voice ringing loudly through the phone. “Is Brit there? Who are you talking to?”

  “Quinn, I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you back.” Eyes locked on Brit’s, I end the call, barely registering Quinn hollering at me as I do.

  “What are you doing here?” I snap, not feeling bad at all for the way she flinches at my words.

  “Wow.” Brit laughs humorlessly. “Twice in two days. That has to be some sort of record.” I blink several times, waiting for her to answer my question. I have no idea what she’s talking about. “Um …” Brit looks around the cafeteria nervously and then pulls out the chair across from me. “Mind if I sit?”

  I smile—it’s fake as shit, but I do my best—and nod, feeling all of the anger that I’d pushed away slowly creep back in. “Not at all. My break is over anyway.” Shoving away from the table, I get up, grab my trash and turn to walk away when her voice catches my attention.

  “He didn’t tell you I was working here.” It’s clear that Brit isn’t asking a question, and it pisses me off to no end that she hit the nail on the fucking head.

  Spinning around, I pin her with an unyielding gaze, hoping that she can’t see the tremble in my hand. “Why are you here, Brit?”

  She shakes her head. “Don’t look at me like that,” she says, scowling. “Don’t make me out to be the villain, Harley. I didn’t make Tyson move to New York. He did that of his own free will, and if you remember correctly, I’m the one he left behind with a lease and a lonely apartment. So don’t you dare play it off like you’re the victim in all of this.”

  Her words catch me off guard, mostly because she’s right. As happy as I am that Tyson came back to me, I can’t imagine—okay, actually I can—how badly it must’ve hurt her when he left.

  “What do you want, Brit?” I ask, completely resigned. As much as I want to hate her, I can’t. It isn’t going to do any good, and it sure as hell isn’t healthy for the baby. Plus, we’re grown women … we should be able to have a civilized conversation. Right?

  “I don’t want anything,” she says, her lips tilting in a frown. Brit puts her tray on the table and I notice for the first time in, well … forever, that she looks vulnerable. “I want to come to work and not have to worry about walking on eggshells around you and Tyson. It might be awkward for the two of you that I work here, but trust me, it’s much more awkward for me.”

  “Then why work here? Why not work somewhere else?” It sounds selfish, but I can’t stop the words from coming out.

  “Are you kidding?” she asks. “The ER is my life, and this is the best damn ER in the state. Plus, I get to be close to my family, which is what I need right now.” Brit’s eyes drift away from mine, but I can see them fill with tears. She quickly blinks the wetness away, and I can’t help but feel that there is much more to what she just said. We aren’t exactly friends though, so I certainly won’t be asking.

  “Fine.” I nod. “I can understand that. But why ask Ty to come over to your house?”

  “Holy shit.” Brit’s eyes widen and she looks at me in surprise.

  “What?” I ask, straightening my back.

  “Either he didn’t tell you, or he
tried to tell you and you didn’t let him. I’m gonna go with the latter.”

  Son of a bitch … she’s good. “What Tyson and I talk about is between the two of us. If this is where you want to be, then welcome home.” With a heavy sigh and a massive amount of resignation, I walk away, proud of my ability to stay cool, calm and collected.

  “Harley.”

  I stop mid-step with my back to Brit and glance over my shoulder. Cocking an eyebrow, I wait for her to say whatever it is she wants to say.

  “For what it’s worth, I’m not out to make things harder on you.” The look on her face is sincere, and I find myself believing her. “All I want is to move on, and I’m happy that Tyson is happy. He’s a great guy,” she says, shaking her head, “even though he broke my heart. He knew that you were it for him, and I can’t fault him for that. So take care of him, okay?”

  I nod slowly, and Brit offers me a gentle smile before looking down at the table. I stand there for several seconds … at a complete loss for words.

  That conversation didn’t go at all like I had expected. Brit and I will likely never be friends, but I can’t help feel like we’ve come to some sort of truce. And with that thought, I turn and walk away, feeling much lighter than I did minutes ago.

  Pulling into the driveway, I shut my car off but make no move to get out. My argument with Harley has been haunting me for the better part of the day. Yes, I should’ve said something before she found out—I realize that now—but it doesn’t take away this deep ache I have in the center of my chest, knowing that she doesn’t trust me. I’ve hurt her once, and even though I thought I had earned that trust back, it’s clear that I haven’t.

  What if I never earn her trust back?

  Can I spend the rest of my life apologizing for something I can’t change? Do I want to spend my life doing that?

  The curtain in the living room window being pulled to the side catches my attention. Max’s face is pressed against the glass, his hand cupped around his eyes as though he’s trying to see if anyone is outside. I’ll bet that anyone is me.