Fighting Pride

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Fighting Pride Page 15

by Jennifer Miller


  “Wait. Stop.” I tell him, holding my hand up demanding he stop speaking immediately. My mind is spinning with everything he’s just revealed and it takes me a minute to gather my thoughts. “You made decisions for me, for us, without talking to me? You basically forced me into doing this by telling me…by telling me you didn’t want me anymore.”

  “It was a lie. Of course I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you. I still want you. I couldn’t-”

  “No. Shut. Up. Cole.” I try to calm myself but my breaths begin coming faster and faster. “Jerry came to you with this offer and you just… you just made a decision for both of us,” I repeat to myself again because I’m trying to comprehend this.

  “It was the only way, Tatum. It was the only way to make you better. Like I said, your art was the only thing getting you through your pain. To me it seemed like the solution, that if you went to school, you would be healed through your love of art. I sacrificed myself for you because there was no other way! I couldn’t get through to you. It was the only way to save you!”

  “I didn’t ask you to save me! I didn’t ask you to sacrifice yourself! Hell, Cole. I would never ever ask that of you.” Shaking my head in disbelief I stand and I can feel my whole body shaking, “You had no right. You had no fucking right.”

  “I had every right! I loved you and I would have done anything for you. I’ve hated every minute of dealing with Jerry, it hasn’t been a picnic, but if I had it to do all over again, I would do the same damn thing. It was agony, fucking agony watching you in so much pain and being unable to do a damn thing about it. Finally, finally I was presented with a way to help!” He moves to me and tries to take my hands, but I won’t let him. “I can still remember the look on your face when you thought…when you thought I didn’t want you anymore. It’s haunted me for years. I was gritting my teeth through that interaction so hard that I chipped them. I died inside the day you moved away.” He swallows hard and his eyes become glassy, “God, sometimes I would miss you so much it felt like I couldn’t breathe. It took me months to wash the sheets we had on the bed we shared. I would keep them in a bag and when the pain became unbearable, I would open it and take a deep breath. The smell of you lingered on them for a long time, and the night I realized it was gone, that I could no longer smell you on them, I got drunk off my ass because I couldn’t handle the pain. I kept tabs on you through Trevor as I could because I demanded it through my part of the contract. It’s how I obtained your art, so I found a new blanket in a way through them I suppose.”

  “If you missed me so much why didn’t you ever pick up the phone and call me? If it was so hard, why didn’t you do something about it? Why didn’t you come and see me?”

  “I couldn’t. The agreement was no contact. I couldn’t see you, call you, visit you. And I couldn’t tell anyone about the deal. If I told anyone, or saw you, he would cut off the funding and I would automatically be required to add on another five years to the deal. I’m at risk of that by telling you now.”

  “And after I was already out of school and you didn’t have to worry about him cutting off funding? When I graduated? You couldn’t trust me enough to talk to me then?”

  “Because this is going so well?” He smiles but I’m incapable of finding the humor in this. He’s known about this for years, me? I’m still trying to come to terms with it. “Well, I’m still bound by the contract to stay silent, and he could have pulled the plug on my fighting and I needed it. And not just for the money, though I have no idea how I could have earned enough to pay him back without it, but it’s because it’s all I had. And then so much time had gone by, Tatum. I thought I could hold on a bit longer until the debt was paid. Then maybe life would give me a chance; maybe fate would put us back together again. It was all I held onto - it was my hope. And if you had moved on, well, being reduced to nothing but a blip from your past was a chance I had to take. While I spent each and every day living for you, I hoped and prayed that you were doing the opposite, because moving on from me is what you deserved.”

  “No, Cole. No. You say that you couldn’t do anything about it, but that’s not true. Do you think if you told Jax that he wouldn’t help you? All this time it never occurred to you that Jerry was taking advantage? Have you verified the amounts he’s telling you that you owe? Does he give you receipts? Because guess what, Cole? After finishing my junior and senior year at the Art Institute, I left and went to graduate school at Masters of Fine Arts instead. They offered me a full ride scholarship too, for two years, and their grad school was a specialty program specific to painting, so I switched schools. Did you know that?”

  By the look on his face, the fact that he’s paled considerably, I’m sure he didn’t know that at all. “What?” he asks me, and it’s so soft and meek if I hadn’t been looking at him I wouldn’t have heard it.

  “Yeah. I only attended there two years. I can’t imagine that after five years you should still be paying off your debt, even if I have no idea of what you make on your fights, but it seems to me that Jerry hasn’t been upfront with you. He’s manipulated this every step of the way, and you let him. Because you couldn’t…what…overcome your pride and ask for help? Admit that maybe this was a mistake? Tell someone what was going on?”

  His jaw tightens, “I’ll be taking that up with Jerry, count on it. But it was still the right thing to do, Tatum. Four years, two years, it doesn’t matter, I still helped take care of you the only way I knew how. I helped put a roof over your head, clothes on your back, food in your stomach, and in the process you got better. I helped do that. Me. My literal blood, sweat, and tears.”

  He’s angry now, but hell, so am I. “What do you want me to say to you, Cole? Thank you? You want me to fucking thank you? YOU RIPPED MY FUCKING HEART OUT! You pushed me away, and all I wanted, all I needed, was you.”

  “That’s not true. It didn’t matter what I said, what I did, how I tried to help, I couldn’t get through to you. I had no choice but to force you into a decision.”

  “No, Cole. No. You know what you did? At a time when I needed to be able to make my own decisions, you took them from me. I had just lost a baby, my precious baby. My body failed me; it couldn’t do the most basic of things. A choice that wasn’t my own, she was taken from me, and then you turned around and made another choice for me too. For what? In the name of love? Is it because after I lost Hope you thought me weak? Incapable of making decisions about my own life?”

  “No, you know that’s not it. I told you why I did what I did.”

  “Yes you did. And now I have the right to process this information and make a choice about how I feel about it. That’s a choice you are not taking from me. You can’t.”

  “Tatum-”

  “Cole. Leave. I need time.”

  “But, we don’t have a lot of time, you leave tomorrow.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t want to lose you again.”

  “You don’t get to decide how this is going to go for both of us, Cole. Not this time. Please leave.”

  “Tatum, I just…I need to tell you that I love you. I don’t want you to leave me. I’ve never stopped loving you. Being with you these last few days… I want a future with you. I want to be with you, to love you, to see if we can make something of what’s between us. To take back what was taken from us.”

  “What you took from us, Cole.”

  “Tatum, please.”

  Walking past him, I move to the door and with tears rolling down my face, I hold it open for him. I feel physical pain at doing so, but I know myself, and I know that I need time to think about this revelation. Part of me is angry, part of me is touched, part of me can’t comprehend everything, part of me understands why he made the decision he did, but that’s the point, my thoughts are incredibly jumbled. I can’t think with him here.

  He walks to the door and turns to me. Reaching out, he brushes his thumb against my cheek like he always does, and before I can stop him he kisses me quickly on the lip
s. “You’re right you know, I was a hypocrite. These last five years, I haven’t been living. But these last few days with you…these moments with you…I’ve felt more alive than I have in years. Whatever you decide, thank you for that. Thank you for reminding me what it’s like to live and love again. Know that I love you. I will always love you.”

  Before I can respond, he’s through the door and gone. Closing it, I walk toward the bed and collapse, pulling my knees to my chest, I cry. I cry for the woman I was five years ago, lost and broken. I cry for putting Cole through so much pain. I cry for the agony Cole had to feel at making the decision he felt he had no choice in making. I may not like it, I may not agree with it, but on some level, I may be able to understand it in time. I cry for both of us now, because while I love Cole with everything that I am, I understand that sometimes, the pain is too vast and impossible to overcome. That sometimes, love isn’t enough.

  Leaving Tatum last night felt wrong on so many levels. I had to force myself through the door, and almost went back more times than I can count to beat on the door and beg her to talk to me. I even considered sleeping against her door just so I could stay close to her until she was ready to talk to me again, but figured it was smarter to not press my luck.

  I’ve kept my deal with Jerry a secret for so long that finally revealing it makes me feel a strange mix of dread and freedom. The weight of it became more that I could carry and it was only a matter of time before I broke, I just never expected Tatum would be the receiver of the truth. I never thought I’d see her again, that she’d always be lost in the lie, and now that she’s here again, I’m so afraid I’ve lost her again. The look on her face replays in my mind over and over. Shock, disbelief, anger, pain, and loss – and I put them all there. Part of me wishes I had kept my fucking mouth shut. I feel vulnerable and scared of the repercussions that keeping the truth for so long may have brought, because these kinds of things always have a way of bringing nasty unanticipated consequences.

  I’ve watched the clock all night, sleep impossible. I’ve paced my small apartment so much that I began driving myself crazy. I knocked on Ryder’s door, but he didn’t answer. I could use a friend, but the fact is he and all the other guys have tried to be a friend and get me to confide in them for years now. It figures that when I’m ready to talk he wouldn’t be there. It’s no less than what I deserve. I’m afraid of what they will all think when they hear the truth. I see the confusion and anger on their faces when they watch Jerry boss me around like some little bitch. They hate it, and I think part of them hates me for letting him do it. They’ve long since given up on me, why should I expect them to care at this point? God, I’ve done this to myself.

  Finally, unable to handle myself any longer I found myself in my bedroom lying on the floor in the exact place Tatum and I had been only hours before. I felt closest to her there, and somehow it helped soothe the foreboding feeling I can’t shake. Memories of her run through my mind like an erotic slideshow. Her soft skin sliding against mine, the look in her eyes, the sounds of pleasure that left her mouth, the way she made me feel. I’ve missed her more than I even realized.

  Now, hours later, still lying here, those images fade from my mind, replaced by memories of the first time I broke her heart. Memories I have kept concealed and buried for years before this week. They play over and over like a skipping record, vivid in color and ripe with pain. And for the first time in a long time I begin doubting the decision I made all those years ago. Was she really as bad as it seemed? Could someone else have helped her? Was Jerry’s deal really the last resort? Why didn’t I tell him to shove his deal up his ass? And then, the darker deeper part of me asks, if was because I really couldn’t handle her or the pain of losing Hope any longer. Was having her leave just the easy way out? But I quickly push those thoughts away in anger because nothing about the last five years has been easy. And I recall the significant angst and process I put myself through when I made that decision. I did not quickly pounce on it. I considered other options. It was not an easy decision. I truly believed it was the best and right choice at the time. No one will ever know the many times I questioned myself. In hindsight, knowing what I now know, would I, should I have done the same thing? How can I answer that? Things always look different over time: the known facts are never exact, one’s emotions and emotional health is not the same. So much is different five years later. So why do this to myself? It accomplishes nothing. All I know is that she’s never, in all this time, been far from my mind or heart even when I did everything I could to leave her and that part of my life in the past. I really did feel like I was saving her, and I put aside my own needs, wants, wishes, and dreams to make sure she had an opportunity to find hers instead. I know the sincerity, the genuine love that enabled me to choose that road. My intentions were the right ones. Of that I am sure.

  Looking at the clock again, I sigh seeing it’s still not quite a decent hour to go knocking on Tatum’s door. She never told me what time her flight leaves, but given the fact we were supposed to have breakfast before she left, I’m assuming it’s late morning or early afternoon - plenty of time to talk to her. I have so much I want to say, so much I need to say. I want to tell her what this week has meant for me, how spending time with her and seeing her again has made me feel. I want to affirm that she’s not the only one that wishes and hopes for more. I want her to know that my life has been meaningless and empty without her in it, and I’ll do anything to have her with me again. I want to get on my knees if need be and beg her to stay, tell her I’ll go with her, whatever it takes. I don’t only miss her, but I miss the old me. What it was like to be happy, carefree, fun, and sarcastic at times. I will follow her anywhere, do anything I have to in order to repent, I just want her. I know that the love we once felt for each other is still there, I’ve felt it this week, at times so tangible it was overwhelming. That means something – it has to. I only hope she feels the same way. I can’t, no… I refuse, to let her go without a fight.

  Once it hits a decent hour, I get in the shower and am ready to go in record time. When I hit her hotel lobby, I race through it to the elevators and hit the button over and over again until the damn door finally opens. Pushing the button for the fifth floor I impatiently wait while it feels like it takes forever to get there. When the doors finally open, I race down the hallway and knock on the door, “Tatum!” I yell excitedly, anxious to share my thoughts with her – needing to get them off of my chest. I wait and listen for something to indicate she’s coming to answer. “Tatum, please open the door. I want to talk to you, I have so much to say!” I lean my forehead against the door eager to hear her, even if it’s to yell at me because she’s still mad, but I’m only met with silence.

  After incessantly knocking for another several minutes with no response to my pleading and begging, I look around the hallway in frustration and notice a cleaning cart several doors down and get an idea. When I’m next to the cart, I smile and snatch something from it knowing it will help. Looking inside another room that has the door propped open, two cleaning ladies appear inside chatting away and laughing while they make the bed. “Hi,” I say and both of their heads swing in my direction in surprise. Smiling coyly while I cross my arms over my chest knowing it makes my muscles push against my shirt, I ask, “I was wondering if one of you could please help me?”

  They both smile shyly and nod their heads and I almost sigh in relief, not above using my assets when needed. Luckily the injuries on my face do not appear to divert my plan. They walk out into the hallway when I point down the hall, “I was at my car, placing my luggage in the trunk before I check out, when I realized my phone isn’t on me.” I pat my pockets absently. “I’m afraid I left it in my room. Would you mind letting me back in really quick so I can check?” They look at each other in hesitation and I smile again, “Please? I promise I will be really quick, my key isn’t working, so I don’t know if they already disabled it since I told them I’d be checking out this morning, or
what.” I hold up the random key I took from their cart, smile and shrug, and release a breath when they both smile and nod. Since I’m first out of the room, I discretely place the key back on the cart. I would have used it myself instead of asking for help, but I have no idea if it’s a master key. Given the fact they don’t stop to grab it and pull one from their pocket instead, it appears I’m correct.

  One of them slides the card in the slot and the telltale click sounds. Pushing the handle down, I look past them into the small part of the room I can see and mumble a “thank you.” Once I’m through the door, I look back briefly, offer a smile, and then close the door. The woman that unlocked the door widens her eyes just as it closes in her face, “I’ll be quick!” I promise. Turning to the room, my gut clenches and I squeeze my eyes closed. Without looking around, I already know she’s gone. The room feels hollow, her energy no longer able to be felt.

  My mind spins and I feel sick to my stomach.

  She’s gone.

  I’ve lost her.

  Again.

  I spin toward the door and grab hold of the handle ready to run after her, and then stop. It’s pointless. I could drive to the airport, but I have no idea what time her flight is, or which airline she’s on, therefore I’d have to guess which terminal to park at and run around in and do…what? I can’t go past security…I can’t do…anything. Hell, I don’t even have her damn phone number - we never exchanged them, which is so fucking stupid. I have nothing. Nothing to show for the fact that she was even here other than the emptiness that’s been left behind.

 

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