Sweetest Heartbreak

by Heather Bentley

  It’s been borderline exhausting, keeping tabs on him all night so that I’m not caught by surprise. I manage to steal a glimpse when he’s not looking. Just long enough to see he’s dressed in black slacks and a navy button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. There’s been more than one moment where I could feel his eyes on me, but I’ve stayed vigilant to shift away when needed.

  “Can we have everyone’s attention, please?”

  The group collectively turns to our hosts, who are standing as the fire lights up their beaming faces.

  Eli looks down to his hand that’s entwined with Lindsey’s before beginning to speak. “We’ve asked you all here tonight, not only because you are our friends and family, but also because you each bring something special to our lives. And, for that reason, we’d like to ask each of you for the honor of standing up in our wedding.”

  Cheers ring out as we all encircle the couple. I hug Eli first and then move to Lindsey. When I step back, my heels meet someone’s toes and I immediately turn to apologize.

  But, when the owner of the toes turns out to be Heath, I skip the apology altogether, stepping around him and grumbling, “Excuse me,” as I pass.

  As soon as I see an opportunity, I say a quiet good-bye to Eli and Lindsey and then sneak, undetected, to my car.

  Just as my feet travel from the roughness of the stone walk to the smoothness of the paved road, I hear steps approaching from behind me.

  “Leah.”

  Shit.

  My skin prickles as the hairs on my neck rise. So much for subtle avoidance.

  Heath

  This night couldn’t have gone worse if I’d tried. Between Leah avoiding me like I had a skin-melting, gas-inducing virus and Lindsey’s friends following me around like homeless, horny puppies, I didn’t get a single chance to talk to Leah. And, now, she’s leaving.

  While we were together, anytime I walked into a room, her eyes always found mine, like a magnetic pull. I’d swear, she was powerless to take them off of me. Her body hummed with impatience, like she couldn’t physically wait to kiss me. Like she had to kiss me. I felt like a king.

  Now? Now, she walks out of a room when I walk in. Her eyes land on anything but mine. She smiles at everyone but me, never gifting me with a single glance. Because I know now, that’s what they were.

  A gift.

  Every look. Every touch. Every kiss.

  But I’m not giving up.

  “Leah.” I jump down from the front step and run across the yard, like the complete pussy I am. But I lost my last fuck a long time ago. “Leah, wait.”

  She throws her shoulders back before turning to me, the hatred rolling off her attempting to flatten me.

  “I didn’t get a chance to say hi.”

  She gives me nothing.

  “So, how are you?”

  “I’m well, thank you.” Each polite syllable is crisp and cold.

  She shifts her weight from foot to foot, anxious to bolt.

  “What have you been up to since you’ve been back?”

  “Are you serious right now?”

  “Yeah, I was just hoping we could talk. Catch up.”

  The anger that stretches across every angle of her face tells me this may have been a huge mistake.

  “Catch up? Okay, Heath, let’s do that. Let’s catch up.”

  She steps closer into my space, and I’m momentarily grateful.

  Until she continues, and her words scrape my skin. “I spent the last year in Chicago, trying to scrub the image of the man I loved in bed with another woman.” She raises a finger to my chest but doesn’t touch me. “You took away my self-worth, my pride, and my ability to see the good in myself. But the worst part of it all is that I let you. I let you rip me apart until there was nothing left. And I hate myself for it as much as I hate you.”

  I stutter a few times, but no sound makes its way out.

  She turns to leave when I find my voice.

  I run in front of her and cut her off. “It was a mistake, Leah. I would give anything to take it back. Anything.”

  The laugh she releases is harsh and bitter. “Eli was right. You destroy everything you touch. Everything good in your life, you find a way to fuck it up. Then, you sit back and complain that nothing goes your way. You are an immature, selfish, spoiled brat who cares about no one but himself. ”

  She starts walking, and I beat her to her car, pressing my body back against her door.

  “You’re right. About all of it. But so much has changed since then. I’ve changed. I deserve your hate. I deserve every disgusted, disappointed look I get from you. And let me tell you, each one kills me. Each one is a knife to the chest. But that’s okay. I will take it all from you because I will forever and always regret what I did to you. To us.”

  Gripping her hips, she asks faintly, “What do you want from me, Heath?”

  “Just the opportunity to be in your life. However I can get it. Give me a chance.”

  “How many more chances can I give you to hurt me?”

  “I swear to you, I will never hurt you again.”

  She turns away and whispers, “You’re hurting me right now.”

  My eyes pinch in pain at her words. “What can I do to make this better? What can I give you? Tell me, and it’s yours.”

  She looks up to the dark sky in thought. I meant it when I said that I’d give her anything. I’d give her my eyes if she needed them to see. I’d give her the clothes on my back and every penny I had in the bank. I’d even walk away and give her Eli and Lindsey. The only thing I can’t give her is my heart. She already has it.

  She finally looks back to me. “Space. You can give me space.”

  Relieved, I take a wide step to the side without hesitation. “I can do that. I can give you space.”

  She nods and then pulls open the car door.

  “I’m not the same man, Leah. I’ll do whatever it takes, give you as much time as you need, to prove that to you. One hour at a time, one day at a time, one month at a time—whatever it takes—until your heart tells you it’s safe to trust me.”

  Without a second glance, she slams her door and drives away.

  Leah

  “Hi, honey. How was your appointment?” my mom asks before I’m even all the way through the door. I’ve been seeing both a nutritionist and psychologist regularly since I’ve been home.

  “Fine. She said she can see my face filling out more.”

  “Have you weighed yourself lately? Maybe you should do that?”

  She’s sitting on the sofa, her back against the armrest and her knees bent, with a book resting in her lap. I take a seat at the opposite end and mirror her position, bringing us toe-to-toe.

  “Relax, Mom. When I told you I was feeling better, I meant it. Oh, and Lindsey says hi.”

  “That’s nice. So, the appointments with Dr. Gallus are helping?”

  “I think so. She definitely makes me look at things from a different perspective. All I saw before, all I felt, was the weight of my mistakes and the shame they brought with them. But she’s helping me to see that they don’t define me. That they’re just that—mistakes.”

  My mom nods her head, silent, as her lips are forced shut in a slim smile.

  “Actually, today was mostly about Heath. I’ve been thinking that maybe it would help if he and I sat down and talked. It’s the right thing to do.”

  “What did Dr. Gallus think of that?”

  “She said that it was entirely up to me, but I should be prepared that he might not say what I hope he will, what I need him to.”

  “Well, if you decide that’s what you want to do, you know where he’ll be this Saturday morning.”

  “Yeah, thanks for that by the way.” I push my feet against hers and she pushes back.

  “Hey, that’s all him, Lee. When I came back from Chicago, I might have lost my mind a little on the boy. After all my crazy mama-bear shouting in the yard that first Saturday, I thought for sure I’d neve
r see him near this house again. But then he showed up the next Saturday and every Saturday since.”

  We sit in silence for a few minutes before she continues, “He knows how bad he messed up, Lee.”

  I avoid her eyes.

  “And, no, I’m not taking his side. What he did to you was . . . deplorable. But I truly believe he knows that now. And I think he’s working hard, just like you, not to be that person again.”

  Bright and early, the lawn mower starts. My Saturday morning alarm clock. With my mom at the farmers market, I know I’ve got about an hour before he leaves. So, I get dressed, brush my teeth, and pull my hair into a messy bun on top of my head before I go to the kitchen to have the necessary servings of protein my nutritionist planned out for me. When I hear the engine of the lawn mower die, I slip on my flip-flops and head outside.

  Other than that first Saturday morning when I charged at him like a lunatic, I’ve never once ventured outside until I was sure he was long gone. But I’ve decided that today is the day. I’m going to extend an olive branch. For the sake of Eli, for the sake of our families and friends, but most importantly, for myself.

  I feel the heat of the day already brewing as I swing open the door and walk out onto the grass just as he comes around the house, his shirt hanging from his hand.

  “Heath?”

  At the sight of me, he jerks to a stop. “Hi, Leah.” His voice is unsure as he nervously wipes at his forehead with his shirt.

  We stand in silence, just feet apart. His hair is shorter than I’ve ever seen it, and he’s wearing his old black basketball shorts that he used to shoot around in. As he wrings his shirt in his hands, I break the uncomfortable silence.

  “Thirsty?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Are you thirsty? You look like you could use a drink.” I throw a thumb over my shoulder, motioning back toward the house.

  “Sure. That’d be great.”

  I turn and head back inside, holding the door for him as he slides his shirt on. “Sweet tea?”

  “Sure.”

  He stands on the opposite side of the counter as I grab the pitcher from the fridge. I pour us each a glass and lean back against the sink and watch him quickly down half of his tea. I can’t get over how different he looks. Not just his hair, but his whole demeanor, too. The way he holds himself. The arrogance and attitude I remember from so long ago don’t seem to be such a strong part of him anymore. There’s a shyness about him that’s endearing yet humbling at the same time.

  “How have you been?” I force myself to look at him.

  Dr. Gallus said eye contact was important to keep me present and give me a better gauge on what he was saying and how he really felt when he said it.

  “Good. Yeah, good. You?”

  “Good.”

  We each take a sip, needing to fill the silence. His gaze moves downward, but I maintain my stare.

  “I found my mom,” he says to the floor.

  Eyes wide, I stop and pull my glass away from my lips. “Seriously?”

  He shrugs. “Yeah. It was just something I needed to do.”

  “Did you actually see her, talk to her?”

  “No. There’s no need. My dad and I have been talking a lot. He’s been answering my questions, and, well, it’s . . . good. I don’t need her in my life to be happy, to be a good man.” His focus is stuck on the liquid in his glass as he swipes his thumb across the condensation. “And I understand now that the people I care about aren’t going to leave me like she did.”

  Pride swirls with regret. I’m so proud of him for seeing what everyone else already knew, even if we had to go through what we did for him to realize this.

  He sets his glass on the counter and then looks to me, speaking low, “Leah, you have to know—”

  “It’s okay, Heath. You don’t have to.” I wave him away. This is beginning to feel like too much.

  “Yes, actually, I do. You were the best thing that has ever happened to me. What we had—” He shakes his head as his face twists in pain. “I am so sorry, Leah. I will never forgive myself. Never.”

  The tears I’ve been fighting back break free, forcing me to turn away. When I feel him come toward me, I hold out an arm, afraid he’ll touch me. I still need more answers, but this is all I’m strong enough for right now. He stops, respecting my space, before handing me a napkin.

  I dry my face and turn back to him. We’re mere inches apart, looking into each other’s eyes.

  “We’ve both made mistakes, Heath. As much as they’ve hurt us, we can only learn from them and move on. You are a good man, and I’m so glad you’re able to see that now, to see what the rest of us see in you. And I need you to know that I forgive you.”

  With that, his head drops as he covers his face with one hand, the other on his hip. I give in and step to him, lightly wrapping my arms around him. I’m about to let go, worried I crossed a line, when his arms do the same. He sucks in a long, shuddering breath against my hair.

  We stay like that, lost in our thoughts and each other’s warmth, until he pulls back to look down at me. “Are you okay?”

  With a small smile, I answer honestly, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  He doesn’t hide his hefty sigh of relief. “Good. That’s all that matters.” He steps out of my space and heads for the door. Just as he’s about to close it behind him, he stops. “See you next Saturday, Leah.”

  “Yeah, see you next Saturday, Heath.”

  “Eli, will you please start the grill for me? Leah, grab the kabobs from the fridge,” my mom orders.

  “What can I do, Mrs. Dawson?” Lindsey asks.

  “You can toss the salad and update me on the latest wedding drama,” my mom says with a wink.

  Stepping to the fridge, Lindsey doesn’t hesitate to start. “Did I tell you guys about the band the wedding planner suggested?” She looks from me to my mom. “She showed me a playlist that includes oldies, like Duran Duran and some guy named Pat Benatar. If I’ve never heard of him, I’m sure our guests haven’t,” she says with an incredulous huff.

  My disbelieving eyes flash to my mom’s, knowing Lindsey is talking about one of my mom’s favorite female artists. “Those kabobs aren’t going to cook themselves,” I announce before sneaking out the patio door and breathe a sigh of relief. Lindsey’s great, but her endless wedding dilemmas may be the death of me.

  “I know that look,” Eli says as he takes the plate. “That’s the look of someone ready to go cross-eyed with wedding woes.”

  “Eli, you know I love Lindsey, but—”

  “But this wedding can’t get here soon enough?”

  “No, it’s just—oh, screw it. I can’t wait for it to be over. I’m sorry, but it’s all Lindsey can talk about, and I just don’t see what the big deal is with ribbon colors or what flowers are in season.”

  Eli nods knowingly toward the grill. “I hear ya, sister. And we still have six months to go.”

  “Remind me, please, when the time comes, to elope.”

  He raises his tongs in agreement as I move to his side, watching him lay the food out on the grates of the grill. “How are you doing? No one ever seems to ask the groom that question.”

  He doesn’t hesitate. “I’m actually really good, Lee. I look at Lindsey, and I just can’t wait to be married to her. I can’t wait to call her my wife.”

  The smile he gives me about breaks his face with happiness. And, when you see someone that full, you just can’t help but share in their joy.

  I lift up onto my toes and kiss him on the cheek. “I’m so happy for you. You’re an amazing friend, and you’re going to make an incredible husband. Love you, Eli.”

  He closes the grill and turns to me. “Love you, too, Lee. And I’m so proud of you, you know that?”

  My throat tightens. It’s still difficult to think about how far I fell, but I know how fortunate I am to have good people who helped me through it. What Heath had done was wrong and hurtful on so many levels, but it was my ow
n response to his betrayal that had been most damaging. Because, when it comes down to it, it was a breakup, plain and simple. They happen across the globe every day. With the guidance of my doctors and my family’s support, I’ve learned I can’t control the actions of others, but I can control my reaction to them without losing myself in the process.

  “Eli, I never thanked you for everything you did for me. I put you through so much, and you never gave up on me. Saying thank you doesn’t seem like enough.”

  He wraps me in a strong hug that I quickly return.

  Rocking us from side to side, he says in my ear, “I’ve seen the bridesmaid dresses. Let’s call it even.”

  We both laugh as he checks on dinner.

  “So, how did your coffee date go yesterday? Are you going to be a plus-two for the wedding?”

  “That’s a big, fat no,” I mumble.

  “Ooh, tell me. Is this better than the guy who took you to his grandmother’s funeral? Or the guy who got matching haircuts with his dog? Or how about the guy who wouldn’t swim in a pool because he was afraid of sharks? And let’s not forget about the guy who cried about his ex-girlfriend because she’d dumped him for his dad!” He’s holding the barbecue tongs high in the air, proud of himself for remembering every awful first date I’ve shared with him.

  “Ugh. Don’t remind me.” I swat the memories away as he tends to the grill. “No, this guy started off strong. Good-looking, has his own electrical business, and owns his own home.”

  “So?”

  “So, he actually had the gall to tell me how many women he’d had sex with.”

  “Whoa. Seriously? How many?”

  I give him a playful jab in the arm. “The best part was that he’d documented every sexual encounter—down to times, locations, positions, and overall ratings. He had the book with him to prove it.”