Living With Regret (Rains Series Standalone Book 3)

by De Jong, Lisa

“It’s too late for that.” I sigh, trying hard to pull myself together. “I need a few days to clear my head. I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk.” Without another word or look, I leave him behind. It has to be this way; he weakens me, and I don’t have the strength to fight against it right now.

  He lets me go. I don’t think he’s giving up on me, at least I hope he’s not.

  God must know I needed a break because I make it to my bedroom without running into my mom. It’s not a promise that she won’t be up here any minute with a million questions, but it gives me time to breathe.

  After avoiding Sam for a few days, I realize how much better he’s made the days since Cory died.

  Since that afternoon with Sam, I’ve been sulking around the house, trying to avoid my parents. It’s not hard with my dad, but Mom has tried to rope me into shopping and even a movie. Luckily, I retained some of my high school tricks and was easily able to fake a stomach virus to get out of it. While I felt guilty, I was also tired of wearing a mask of normalcy. It’s never worked for me.

  My phone vibrates in my purse, but I hesitate before answering it. Sam hasn’t tried to contact me, but I know that won’t last forever. Sam’s not the runner; I am.

  Pulling the phone from my purse, I see the name on the screen isn’t anyone I was expecting.

  “Hello,” I answer.

  “Hey, how are you doing?” Kate asks, her voice soft and soothing.

  “I’ve been better. How are you?”

  “That was a stupid question, wasn’t it?” she asks. I can tell she’s chewing on her bottom lip. It’s something she does often.

  “I would’ve asked the same thing. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Yeah, I know better, though.” I can hear her breathing on the other end, the only sound covering the silence. “I’m sorry I haven’t called in a while. This summer has been really busy, but I know that’s no excuse.”

  “No need to apologize. I haven’t been that much fun to be around anyway.” Sam could tell her … I’ve been a freaking yo-yo. Fun. Sad. Fun. Sad.

  She hesitates, and then asks, “How are you feeling? I mean, really feeling.”

  “I’ve been good for the most part. I’m almost at one hundred percent physically, but I can’t remember anything about that night. I don’t even know if I want to remember.”

  “It will be hard for a while, but it will get easier. I promise. I know it would help to understand how it happened, but you need a plan in case that never happens.”

  If a stranger said that to me, I’d be pissed, but I get what she’s saying, and she’s one hundred percent right. That has been the hardest part—not knowing why I did what I did. Why would I get behind the wheel of my car after I’d been drinking? Why did Cory let me? And in all honesty, I might never know.

  “I know things will get better. It’s just going to take some time,” I say quietly, my mind drifting off to the what-ifs. The land of the what-ifs is pretty miserable these days.

  “Time is your best friend. Don’t forget that.” Kate should know after losing her boyfriend, Asher, last year. She’s such an amazing person, a testament that sometimes pushing through the pain only makes us stronger.

  “I’ll try not to.”

  “Look, I was wondering if I can come visit on Saturday? I miss you, and I’m sure you could use a little girl time.”

  The thought of seeing Kate almost makes me cry. I know some of my old friends are back for the summer, but no one’s made much effort to see me. Not even Madison other than that day in the hospital. They’re probably all mad at me. They probably always will be.

  “That would be great,” I say, trying to make my voice sound as normal as possible.

  “Okay, I’ll be there around ten to pick you up. What do you want to do?”

  “Swimming?”

  “That sounds fabulous, because I think it’s supposed to be over ninety tomorrow. Can you text me your address? I think it’s about a two hour drive from my house, but I need to know where to go when I get there.”

  “I’ll do it as soon as I hang up.”

  “Great. I’m excited to see you.”

  “Me too. I’ll talk to you later,” I say, squeezing the phone tightly in my fingers.

  “Later,” she says right before the phone goes dead.

  Every time I think the sun is never going to come out again, it shines through the clouds, giving me a sliver of hope.

  August 11, 2013

  SADLY, THIS IS THE first time I’ve put on a swimsuit all summer. My body is thinner than usual, leaving the top a little looser than I’d like, but after adjusting the strings a few times, it works. I pull on a pair of faded cutoff shorts and a white tank top before throwing my hair into a ponytail.

  This is the second time in a week I’ve had something to look forward to, and I don’t see any reason why it would turn out like the first. Dad left a couple hours ago; I heard his car speeding down the gravel driveway. Mom’s home, but she’s been tolerable the last few days. I think she got tired of babysitting me and decided to give me time to work through the fog in my head. We’ve just never had the type of relationship where I’ve felt like I can be open and honest with her. I’ve convinced myself she prefers I only tell her what makes her proud or gives her something to brag about to her friends. Maybe it’s all in my head, but she hasn’t done anything to disprove it.

  I grab my beach bag off the bed and head downstairs to find something to eat before Kate gets here. The lake I want to go to is out in the middle of nowhere so my plan is to pack us each a light lunch for later. I haven’t felt much like eating lately, but this isn’t just about me.

  As I’m pulling the toaster out of the cupboard, the doorbell rings. Looking up at the clock, I notice it’s only nine thirty. After wiping my hands on the towel, I walk out of the kitchen and see Kate through the front window. I quicken my steps, excited to see her for the first time in a few months. When the door opens, her arms wrap tightly around me. “It’s so good to see you,” she says, squeezing me even tighter.

  “It’s good to see you, too.” I wrap my arms around the center of her back.

  After a few seconds, she lets go, stepping back far enough that she can see me. She spends more time than usual scanning me over, but it doesn’t take long for her familiar, friendly smile to form. Besides being down a couple pounds, I look the same as I did a few months ago. “You look good,” she remarks.

  “Some days I don’t feel that way, but I’m getting there. How was your drive?”

  “It was relaxing actually … just me and Lifehouse.” Her smile changes, a layer of sadness darkening it. She’d told me it was Asher’s favorite band. They listened to them all the time before he died. Music can be the key to memories, good and bad. “Are you ready?”

  “Actually, I was just making us some lunch. The lake’s kind of out in the middle of nowhere.”

  “This whole state is pretty much the middle of nowhere,” she replies, glancing around our overdone house. It isn’t one of those you can walk into and feel at home. Most people don’t even feel like they can sit down and end up doing exactly what Kate’s doing right now—looking around in awe of the museum-like entryway. It’s a mixture of expensive furniture in fine fabrics and antiques in mint condition, all kept impeccably clean.

  “Follow me to the kitchen. I’ll finish making our lunch and then we can hit the road.”

  She nods, her eyes scanning the room again as she takes a few small steps forward. “Your house is really nice.”

  I shrug, staring at a kitchen, so clean you could eat off any surface. “It’s not really me, but my mom’s put a lot of work into it. It has to look good in case anyone comes over.”

  “The house I grew up in was definitely more lived in.”

  While I finish packing a small cooler, Kate leans on the island and fills me in on her summer with Beau. While she speaks, it’s obvious she’s holding back, afraid her happiness will bring me more misery. Hearing about th
e fun things they’ve done together does make me think of Cory and all the things we would be doing right now. Swimming. Taking his parents’ boat out on the lake. Bonfires with friends. Even simple things like holding his hand or breathing in his scent. I miss it all.

  “Ready?” I ask.

  “You better believe it.”

  On the way to the lake, we roll down the windows in Kate’s car and let the wind mess up our perfect ponytails. Everything is easy with Kate—we have a lot of the same interests—two girls who like simplicity, who live for the loves in our lives.

  “So what have you been up to? You said you were feeling better.” Kate’s hands grip the steering wheel, perfectly at ten and two, and she only takes her eyes off the road for a second to gauge my response.

  “I didn’t do much until just a few weeks ago. I’ve been hanging out with an old friend when I feel up to it.” My heart rate picks up just thinking about Sam and what happened the last time I saw him. I still see that look on his face, the pain in his eyes. If I were a stronger girl, I’d have called him by now. I just can’t do it yet.

  “Yeah? Is it that Madison girl you talk about all the time?”

  I shake my head, nervously looking out the passenger side window. I’ve never talked about Sam with her, but if anyone is going to understand, it’s Kate. “His name is Sam. We’ve been friends since I was eight.” When I think about what a best friend should be, it’s Sam. He’s more than just another friend. He’s the person I tell the most to, the one I want to spend the most time with.

  Her eyes widen, but she quickly recovers, focusing in on the road again. “You’ve never mentioned him before.”

  “We lost touch for a while. He’s the only person besides you who’s been around at all.”

  “It’s weird how it takes something bad to point out who’s really there for you. When it comes down to it, true friends are as rare as true love.”

  “Do you think it’s possible to find a true love and true friend in the same person?”

  She looks at me again, her mouth opening then closing. “That’s Beau. Sometimes true friends make the best true loves.”

  She’s right. With true friendship comes trust, and trust makes it easier to give your heart away … it gives you confidence that the person who holds it won’t break it. “How long after Asher died did you start seeing Beau?”

  “Umm, it was seven or eight months. If it had been anyone else but Beau, I wouldn’t have been able to move on so soon, but I’d felt things for him for a long time. It was easy because it was what my heart wanted.”

  I point her north, down the long dirt road that leads to the lake I like to go to when I don’t feel like being around my old high school classmates.

  After she’s on the right path, I ask her what I’ve really been wondering. “How did you know it was the right time to move on?”

  Without warning, she pulls over to the side of the road, putting the car in park. Her whole body turns toward me, looking at me like she’s going to tell me the most important thing I’ll ever hear.

  “I think my heart knew it long before I convinced my head. Mine was a different situation, though. I knew death was coming, and by the time it did, I’d already gone through some stages of grief. I had time to process it way before it became reality. I’m not saying that it will take longer for you; I think it all depends on how much of you Cory took with him. How much do you have to get back before you can feel whole enough to give a part of yourself to someone else?”

  I blow out the air I was holding the whole time she spoke, looking away to try to escape her knowing eyes. I swear she was born with a special ability to read people. Sometimes I think she knows what I’m thinking before I even say it. “I feel things for him. Things I felt before I started dating Cory. Things I felt with Cory … it’s so confusing, and if I didn’t already feel guilty enough about what happened, it’s making it worse. When I want to be close to him, when he makes my heart race, all I can think about is how it wouldn’t even be happening if Cory were still here.”

  “If Asher were still here, I probably wouldn’t be with Beau. And if Asher hadn’t gotten sick, he probably wouldn’t have come to Carrington. If I really think about it, I wouldn’t be with Beau if it weren’t for Asher. He saved me.”

  “What are you saying?” I hear everything she’s saying, but I’m not sure what it means for me.

  “Quit thinking about the what-ifs and live with what you have. If you’re ready to move on today, then by all means do it, but don’t let anything but what you feel in here guide you,” she says, placing her hand over her heart.

  I lean back against the headrest and let her words sink in. Just because I think Sam might be the guy I move on with doesn’t mean it has to happen now. If the things he’s said to me are true, he’ll wait … he’s been waiting.

  “Thank you,” I say, tears filling my eyes.

  “I’m here for you. No matter what.”

  Without hesitation, I pull her in for a hug. She’s given me a clearer picture of the future than I’ve had in a long time. It may not be right in front of me, but it’s definitely something I’m walking toward. There’s a whole lot of living to do along the way.

  All I’ve been doing since Kate left yesterday is thinking about what I’m supposed to do with the rest of my life. The talk we had on the way to the lake opened my eyes in a way they hadn’t been in months. Our situations aren’t exactly the same, but she still understands better than anybody. An afternoon with her was exactly what I needed, and by the time she dropped me off at home last night, I had a new resolve to figure out why I’m still here. For whatever reason, I survived that crash, and it wasn’t to sit here and do absolutely nothing.

  At one point, I had my whole life mapped out, a path from birth until the day I die. Something came along and flooded it, making it impossible to stay on course. I guess that’s what happens when things are too perfect. Actually, the more I look at it, the less perfect it all seems. It’s beginning to look more like a façade of perfection.

  Tonight, I just want to forget about my crazy life and escape to the fields to watch the fireflies and stare at the night sky. They’re two things that make me think of happier times and forget everything else.

  I grab an old flannel blanket from the closet and head outside, carefully closing the door behind me to not rouse my parents. I’ve considered getting my own place since I’m not returning to school this semester, but in order to do that, I need a job. That, I don’t know if I can handle yet.

  My flip-flops make a rhythmic sound as I walk across our property toward the fields, the grass brushing against my feet. The air smells of the horses my neighbor raises mixed with fresh cut grass. It’s quite possibly the best combination ever.

  I find my usual spot where the grass is so long that it’s impossible to see me, and lay the blanket down. The minute I’m comfortably seated, I kick my sandals off and cross my arms over my legs. There’s a light breeze tonight, which blows my long blond hair behind my back. When the crickets begin their song, I lay back and close my eyes. I breathe in, holding it for five seconds before slowly letting it out again. I repeat it, over and over, until I feel so calm it would be easy to drift off to sleep. It’s in these moments that I get to know myself. Often times, I think we get caught up in getting to know everyone around us and forget that we may not know ourselves well enough to know anyone else. I’ve been working hard at this because I think it’s the only way for me to rewrite my life in a way that will give me some semblance of happiness. I’d do anything to get a peek at it every now and then.

  As I file my thoughts away, the cricket song fades, and I know he’s here.

  Keeping my eyes closed, I listen for his footsteps in the grass. Soon they come, each a little louder than the one before. My heart rate increases just thinking about him being near. I know what he means to me, but I’m trying to forget. Someone should have warned me that it’s impossible to forget Sam Shea.

&n
bsp; The footsteps stop above me, and I feel him lowering himself to the blanket. He never asks for permission.

  Even when I feel the warmth of his body next to mine, my eyes stay closed. When his fingers wrap around mine, I take a deep breath through my nose but don’t give anything away. His bare arm brushes against mine, and I feel him looking at me. His eyes set fire to my cheek.

  “I’ve been out here every night since that day in the shop,” he says, so low it takes all the concentration I have in the stillness of the night air to hear him. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “I’ve had time to put things into perspective.”

  “Yeah? And what did perspective show you?”

  I open my eyes and turn toward him. It’s hard to make out the expression on his face, but I’ve known him long enough that my imagination is just as good. “That I have two choices.”

  He waits patiently for me to go on. “I can either swim in this pool of regret for the rest of my life, or I can take the steps necessary to move forward.”

  “What did you decide?” he asks. Sam Shea, one of the surest people I’ve ever met, sounds so unsure.

  “Life’s too short, and we all deserve a second chance.”

  “So you’re moving forward?”

  I’ve thought about this for hours over the last week, and if the tables were turned and Cory was still here, I’d want him to be happy. I wouldn’t want him to walk around with guilt on his shoulders.

  “It’s not going to happen overnight, but eventually I’ll find a way to live normally again. I like you, Sam, but I don’t know what that means for us. I mean, it feels wrong to act on it right now.”

  The space around us is quiet, only the sound of the crickets filling the air. “So you’re not saying no?”

  “I’m saying not right now. I need some more time to think about what I want. Where it’s going to bring me. Until just a few months ago, I thought I had it all figured out. Starting all over isn’t that easy.”

  “Even if we’re not together, I don’t want to lose what we have. The last few weeks have felt so good … I didn’t think I’d ever have you back in my life again.”