Anyone but Him

by Cassie Graham

  I tilt my head. “What do you mean?”

  She plays with the ring on her right hand, twirling it around and around. “After I served my time in juvenile detention for what I did to poor Sydney, I left town. Ducking for cover. Hiding. I changed my name and made a new life. I was certain that Cade’s goons were going to find me. It took me years to grasp the fact that I could live a normal,” she stops to laugh. “Well, normal to me. This life, the one that I was given, it wasn’t exactly what I had expected. But, I learned early of the ugliness that life could spew. The sadness is real, and I was the cause of so much of that sadness, it was only right for me to simply exist. Living a life full of happiness and love…that just didn’t seem fair to Sydney. I took her life, Jennings. I took her years and squashed them. Giving her those drugs and walking away, I sealed her fate. I deserve a much worse fate. I got off easy. She didn’t…” she trails off. “She didn’t.”

  I open my door and walk to hers, pulling her from her seat. Taking the back entrance, we get on the elevator and I plug my key into the slot, making it shoot high into the air to my penthouse.

  The doors open into the suite and I lead her to the couch.

  “Sit,” I instruct.

  Her eyes still wet, she sits down, sliding her shoes off.

  “Are you thirsty?”

  She tucks her feet under her legs. “No. Thank you.”

  I go to the bar and pour myself a shot of bourbon and slam it back. Wiping my mouth, I slip off my jacket and roll the sleeves up on my shirt. Loosening my tie, I sit next to Whitley and grab her hands, kissing them.

  “Your life has been a complicated one.” I kiss a knuckle.

  She scoffs.

  “Really complicated,” I defend. There’s no denying her past is tainted. Bleak and desolate. But, she’s also so full of light and good when she allows it. The darkness is always present, but when she lets it slip, she’s so damn bright and full of life. Those moments, the ones we had together, it makes me hopeful that she can come out of this. Whatever she has shackled to her, she can get through it. She can shatter those iron holds and make a better life for herself.

  “I’m broken. Completely and outright broken. I should be shouting from the rooftops in excitement, but all I can think about is how wrong it is to be happy when Sydney isn’t here anymore. And, it’s not just the guilt that strangles me. It’s hate. I hate myself for what I did,” she weeps, her hands falling into her hands.

  I grab her and wrap my arm around her shoulder, bringing her into my side, but she pushes away from me.

  “No. I’m only darkness. I’m sadness. Watching, listening to those people recount every awful moment of my life only brought the bad to the forefront. You can’t want to be with me after that. My dark can overtake your light,” she struggles. “I’ve been fighting so hard. Fighting to get my life back, and the moment I have it under control, bam, it’s pulled out from underneath me and I’m laying on the ground, bleeding.” She angrily swipes at her face. “I bleed so much, Jennings. All the time. What I did? It won’t ever go away. No amount of hope can take that away.”

  I stand firm. “Bullshit.”

  “What?” she asks, stunned.

  “Bullshit,” I say again. “That’s such bullshit. You think you’re darkness, that your broken? You’re not. The Whitley that I see? The girl I know? She isn’t the same girl you were ten years ago. The Whitley ten years ago was naïve and young. You, Whitley, are strong and brave.” I grab her hand and keep it in my vice. “You are so very brave. After I heard all of the accounts of the night Cade left you…I don’t know anyone who would have survived that. And, you did.”

  “I had no choice,” she says blandly.

  “You did have a choice. Another person would have stopped living. They would have given up. But, you? You chose to live.”

  “I’m a coward, Jennings. I ran away because I couldn’t face my fate here.”

  “Running doesn’t make you a coward, it makes you valiant. Courageous, even. You fought to live a better life despite the fact that your childhood was taken from you so quickly.”

  “But, Sydney.”

  I shake my head. “Sydney made her own choice. You couldn’t have stopped what was going to happen to her.”

  She looks away, her mouth trembling. “You know how when you dream, and you’re always trying to get somewhere…somewhere important, but you never actually get there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I wish.” She turns back to me. “I wish I’d wake up. I wish I could stop this dream and live reality.”

  “Reality is now, Whitley.”

  “What do you suggest I do, Jenns?” she begs.

  “First.” I pull her to me. “You have to stop living in the shadows of your past.”

  She scoffs.

  “Or at least begin to think about moving on.”

  “And, second?”

  “You have to forgive yourself,” I say softly, afraid to set her over the edge.

  When we left the courthouse, I thought she might be okay. Now, I’m not so sure.

  “I don’t even know how to begin to do that.”

  I hug her harder and kiss her head. “Why don’t we do something?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s go do something exciting. This town is tarnished for you, let’s try and change that. The past won’t ever be erased, Whitley. I’m sorry. That isn’t possible, but what is possible is to make new memories.”

  “New memories?” she questions. “Jennings, why are you here? What’s the point? We haven’t seen each other in months and now you’re here—trying to help. I don’t know exactly what to do with all of this.”

  “Is it wrong for me to want to be there for you? To not want you to hurt?”

  “Jennings,” she breathes, exhausted. “That’s fine, but I can’t…”

  “You can’t, what?”

  She moves away from me on the couch and pulls her legs up to her chest. “I can’t just be friends with you. You being here isn’t helping me. It’s only making it worse. You’re just a reminder of what I can’t have. And right now, what I want is you to take all of the hurt away. And, being friends? You can’t do that.”

  I sigh, shoving my fingers through my hair. “This isn’t easy for me, either, Whit. And I’m sorry. I wish I could give you what you want. Hell—I want it, too. But, if I allow myself to be selfish, it could mean you get hurt.”

  “You think you’re being a hero. I don’t need a hero, I need a partner,” she chastises.

  I don’t say anything. I lace my fingers together and look down, keeping my breathing even.

  She shifts next to me, but I can’t make myself look up.

  “I want to be your hero, Whit,” I whisper.

  She hisses. “And this is your way of being my hero?”

  “In my fucked up way, yeah.”

  She stands up in a rush and walks to the table to pick up her purse. “No. I can’t do this.” She turns toward the door.

  I’m up and off the couch in less than a second. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m leaving,” she says, short.

  “Wait.” I grab her arm. “Don’t go like this.”

  “How else would you like me to go?” she seethes.

  This did not go the way I thought it would.

  “Today has been a clusterfuck of emotions, Jennings,” she continues. “Being up on that stand, then watching Cade talk about the night he beat me, God, almost to death. Then seeing you, being so happy, then remembering that you being here doesn’t mean anything but you wanting to be a good guy…it’s too much to handle. See what I mean? Good and bad. Black and white. There’s no damn grey in my life. It’s frustrating.”

  Rambling Whitley is downright endearing.

  “Life isn’t about the grey, Pretty Girl.” She deflates and her shoulders sag. “It’s about the color.”

  She gives a sullen laugh. “If I can’t find the grey, how in the hell am I goi
ng to find the color?”

  “I don’t know.”

  And it’s then that I make the decision. The one that probably matters most. The same one that will change my life. Because at this point, there’s no going back. I came here for a reason. It’s not because I just wanted to be a good friend. It’s more than that. It’s more than me just wanting to protect her.

  I came here because she’s the only one who can make the patter of my insides go haywire and calm all at the same time. She’s the one that can bring out the human in me. She the one who can see past the jaded and find my worth.

  She’s the one.

  My one.

  Christ, why did it take me so long to figure it out?

  I take a deep breath. “You want me? All of me? You’re sure? No maybe’s and probably’s. If you want me, I need to know. No regrets. No more.”

  She turns her head to look at me, her eyes red and puffy, tears streaking quickly down her cheeks. She tilts her head to the side and studies my face. Eyes gazing over my skin, she looks intently into my eyes. “No regrets,” she confirms.

  I can’t help but smile. “I want every look, every memory, old and new. I want every smile, every tear, though, I hope to only give you a few, and those ones, they’ll be happy. I want every snarky comeback, every headshake and ridiculous movie line you can throw at me. I want it all. If we are going to do this, and you understand the risks and headaches it’s going to take to be with me, I need you to know that I want everything. I’m giving you my heart Whitley and I don’t want it back. I just want yours in return.”

  Her purse clangs on the floor and she turns her body my way. Pushing her tears away from her eyes, she covers her mouth. “Jennings, my heart is yours. I couldn’t give it away to anyone else if I tried.”

  Placing my hands on her hips, I bring our bodies together. “Can I kiss you, now?” I ask, my lips moving just above hers.

  She nods her head and smiles before I slam my lips onto her forgiving, sugary mouth.

  When we separate, her tears are gone and the blush is back on her cheeks. I push the hair back from her face. “This is going to be hectic. Being with me comes with battle scars.”

  She caresses my face, her hand stopping at my neck. “I know, and I’m not sure how I’ll handle everything that’s happened today. All I know is that I’m not afraid to be with you. You bring out something in me I thought was lost.”

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “Hope.”

  “So, all of that talk about darkness, do you really feel that way?”

  She gulps. “I do. But, I don’t want to. I don’t want to be this Whitley.”

  I nudge my nose to hers. “I like this Whitley.”

  “Yeah, well, I think she sort of sucks,” she laughs.

  “Ever thought about talking to someone? I mean—other than me or Holli.”

  She bites the inside of her cheek. “Yeah, but I’ve always been too scared to go to that part of my past. But, maybe it’s time.”

  “I think so, Pretty Girl. This is the first step to becoming the you that you want to be. Who do you want to be, Whitley?”

  “I want to be unafraid.”

  “Now is the time to start living for today. Yesterday is over, you can’t take back the things that have happened, but you can make the best of your moments. Every moment from now on can be different if you want it to be.”

  “I do, very much so.”

  “Then,” I say, grabbing her hand. “Let’s start now.”

  The road beneath us is rough as we fly down the highway to downtown Kansas City.

  “Where are you taking me, Jenns?” Whitley asks while she lets her hand hang out of the open window. Moving up and down with the speed of the wind, she stares fixedly at her hand.

  “Somewhere fun,” I state.

  “How informative,” she says sarcastically.

  Resting my hand on her thigh, we race the sun.

  “Stay in here,” I instruct when we park at the party store.

  She gives me an apprehensive look. “Umm, okay.”

  I bolt into the store, thinking I have a few minutes before the sun sets. When I got here two days ago, I found a lookout point just outside of town, and taking Whitley there might be a good start to getting her on her feet.

  When I return with my ludicrous surprise, I smile at her and toss the bag in the back seat.

  “What is that?” she smirks, pivoting to the back seat.

  I grab her arm. “Nope.”

  “What?” she screeches.

  “It’s a surprise. Now, hush and we’ll be there soon.”

  “And you’re not going to tell me where there is, right?”

  I intertwine our fingers together and kiss the back of her hand. “Right.”

  “You know,” she states. “I didn’t see my day ending like this.”

  Her hair blows into her face, and she pushes it back. The same simple gesture I’ve seen her do a hundred times, but this time, it feels different. It means—more.

  “What? Being held hostage by a crazy man?” I jest.

  Bundling her hair to the side, she pulls it over one shoulder and looks to me. “No, I mean, I left the courthouse happy. Things were looking up. But, something was missing. Then, there you were. And, to be honest, you only made me sadder. Seeing you want to be my friend only pounded into my head that you wanted nothing more from me,” she laughs. “This sounds ridiculous, I know, but even after our time away from each other, I still haven’t forgotten the sound of your voice, or the feel of your hands on me. The feel of your lips on mine still felt real as the last day I was with you. Knowing that you were there simply because you wanted to be a good guy just made all of these walls that I put up, stand higher at attention.” She turns her eyes back toward the window. “You are the first guy in ten years to somehow work your way through my bullshit and see what I’ve been hiding. Even before you knew about Cade, you are the only one to strip the ugly layers away.” She takes a deep breath and looks back at me. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, you giving us a chance isn’t my plea for help. I don’t want you to fix me. I want to be with you, yes, but I also know that you can’t fix me.”

  “Whit,” I laugh. “I don’t want to fix you. I want to help. I want to hold your hand as you journey to find yourself.”

  “Okay,” she inhales.

  “Now,” I quip when I shut off the car. “Follow me.”

  She gets out of the car and walks to the front, waiting for me. I take the bag from the back seat and hold up the two canisters.

  She gives me a curious look. “What is that?” She inspects it further, taking the package from my hands.

  I stick my hands in my pockets, bouncing on the balls of my feet.

  “Glitter?” she giggles.

  “That’s right, Pretty Girl. Glitter.” Taking the colorful confetti in my hands, I twist the cap. The light breeze from the impending storm jostles the little particles in the tube, making some fall to the ground. “Have you ever thrown a handful of glitter into the air?” I ask, speaking loudly, beaming with excitement. This is my first attempt at healing and I hope it works.

  Bringing my hands out, I spin in a circle.

  Whitley chuckles, settling on watching me be silly. “Umm, no. Goober,” she mutters the last word under her breath. But, I’m feeling damn triumphant right now, watching her smile spread further and further over her face.

  “Well, sweetheart, let’s do it,” I suggest, still spinning in a circle.

  She looks at me with questionable apprehension. “Do what, exactly?”

  I stop my circular dance and grin at her, mirroring her broad smile. “Let’s find the color. Let’s throw fucking glitter in the air and live!”

  She looks at me like she has no idea what I’m talking about or what this all means, but she bites her lip and nods her head, taking the canister from me.

  “Ready?” I ask, uncapping my glitter.

  “I think so,” she answers.r />
  “One, two, three!” I shout.

  At the same time, we toss the glitter into the night. The bright purples, golds and greens, fall onto our heads and Whitley beams. Grabbing her around the waist, I bring her to me and pull her close. Resting my chin on her head, I close my eyes and soak in the moment.

  “I love you, you know?” I whisper, watching glitter dance around us.

  She stays silent, but pulls back, staring at me with eyes that say so much and then nothing at all.

  I didn’t know I could love. I didn’t know I could trust. But, I did. Whitley has found a way to make my crazy life seem easy. Simple, even. I’ve been in a constant state of chaos from the moment I landed a major role, and she figured out a method to take the constant hum of voices away. She doesn’t even know she did it. She probably didn’t even mean to. But, she did. And, I’m sick of being the good guy. I’m sick of doing what’s right. I’ll take precautions and make sure she’s safe. The second we step foot back in California, I’ll shield her from anything and anyone who might hurt her.

  Life isn’t good without her. My days are longer and my nights are darker. Professing my feelings isn’t the hard part. It’s knowing if she feels the same.

  And, like I figured, she keeps to herself. Instead, she rises on her tiptoes and kisses me.

  “Want to stay at my parents house?” she asks, reluctant. “Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and maybe you’d like to meet my family?”

  “You don’t want to go home?” I would have bet she’d want to high-tail it out of here now that it’s all over.

  “Not tonight. It’s late, and honestly, I’m tired of this place being just a big, black hole. I’m hoping to make new memories. And, staying with my family for a holiday might help.”