by Coco Cadence
I watched her from a distance, hiding her tears in her scarf as she stood over her father’s grave. I wasn’t allowed to go to the funeral. They didn’t want me to make it even more difficult than it already was for her, and I agreed. I didn’t make a fuss. I was actually relieved that I didn’t have to face the destruction I’d caused.
I killed her father.
Maybe not directly, but my words made him commit suicide.
It’s been months since the funeral, but the images are still lodged in my mind.
I wish I could undo what I did, but it’s too late for that.
All I can do now is try to stay out of her way.
She hates me. I can see it in her eyes whenever she spots me … the need to erase me from her thoughts. And I don’t blame her … I deserve it all.
Since his death, my mother has moved back into my father’s house, looking for support. She had nobody else but us. Of course, being the forgiving man that he is, my father accepted her back. Maybe not with open arms, but I could definitely tell he still loved her. We all did. Despite her leaving our family, we needed her back.
She came back and brought Emily to our house as well. I knew it was because she didn’t have anywhere else to go, but she didn’t want to be with us. Not in a million years.
Except she had no one left to care for her.
So my mother did what she thought was right. Since she was shortly married to her father, she had legal custody over Emily, which meant she could come live with us.
I’m not sure if it was the right decision, however, because Emily seemed to resent her for it. And me, of course, for being the cause.
I tried to stay out of her way, most of the time. But it was never the same.
She never ate dinner with us; she was always in her bedroom.
She never joined family nights or any of the activities we did together.
She pretty much locked herself away with her books and her memories.
Sometimes I stand in front of her door, my hand hovering so close I could knock. I think about all the things I’d say to her—how I’d beg her for forgiveness, how I’d attempt to rebuild our relationship. Or any relationship, for that matter. With her, my family. Anyone and anything would be okay, as long as she’d stop being angry. So we can move on.
But then I realize that’s the most selfish thing I could ever think.
Maybe she doesn’t want to forgive. Maybe she doesn’t want to forget.
And who am I to tell her any different?
I was the one who made her sad. I was the one who made her world stop.
I can’t possibly do or say anything that would make it better. I can’t fix anything.
And so the moment where I attempt to redeem myself passes. I lower my hand and walk to my room. Just like I always do.
Walk away, for her sake. So maybe, one day, she’ll be happy again. Even if it’s without me.
***
Present
Waking up next to Emily feels like a dream come true.
It’s only when I realize that she’s still sleeping that it sinks in what we did last night.
We had sex, and I didn’t wear any protection.
I don’t want her to worry because I don’t have anything. I get myself checked every month, and I had my latest check-up just a few days ago. I haven’t fucked anyone else beside her, and she hasn’t either. I know her too well for that. She’s not the type to fool around.
Still, I know she’ll be mad at herself and me. We’re stupid and in love. Or at least, I am. I can feel it when I look at her, my heart pounding out of my chest, a smile lodged on my face. Just thinking about being with her makes me happy, like we’re floating on a cloud.
Except, the moment she wakes up, I’ll come crashing down again.
I don’t want her to be angry with me. I have to fight for her love, fight for her approval, fight for her. I’ll prove myself to her.
In a love-drunk haze, I pick up my phone, only to realize that it’s fucking eleven, and I’m supposed to be at the tracks in less than an hour.
I scramble out of bed, gather my clothes to put them on, and grab a piece of paper and a pen. I write down some words, hoping she’ll understand. I’m not much of a words type of man. I prefer action, hot action most of all. But there will be plenty of time for that later.
First, I have to show her that I can be the man she wants. Responsible, dutiful, caring, and above all, someone to be proud of.
I glance at her one final time before I leave her apartment. I’ll have the sight of her lying naked on her bed firmly planted in my memory, which will help me win today’s race.
I will fucking win.
I will fucking get her.
I will make things right.
Chapter 33
Emily
The moment I’m awake, my eyes spring open and I sit up straight in my bed.
Oh, my god. I had sex with Chris last night. And … fuck!
I throw off the blanket, jump out of bed, and rip open my drawer to rummage through my shit until I find my pill. I quickly swallow one down before the time between the previous one ends. I’m still in time, I should be in the safe-zone.
Except, I had sex with Chris. Again.
Biting my lip, I turn around and breathe a sigh of relief when I notice he isn’t even there.
Which is weird because I could’ve sworn he went to bed with me last night.
That’s when I notice the lights are on in the living room, and there’s a half-full glass of milk sitting on the table. Next to it is a note.
I grab it and read it immediately.
I love you, Emily.
I know you don’t want to hear it, but I have to say it. I had to get it off my chest, which is why I’ll write it in a note instead of telling you out loud.
I love you.
More than anything in this world.
And I’m sorry for what I did. There’s no way I can make it up to you, but I still hope you’ll forgive me one day. I’ll wait until you’re ready. Forever, if I have to.
I wish I could’ve stayed in bed with you, but I have a race in about fifteen minutes. I’m dedicating it to you.
I promise you now I’ll win, no matter what.
I’ll win your heart again, too … one day.
Xx Chris
PS: No, I don’t have any STDs and I know you don’t either, so we’re safe. If you want proof, come and get it. Locker fourteen. The combination is three-five-zero-nine.
I sigh out loud. “Seriously, Chris?”
Now I have to follow him to the tracks to make sure. I guess that was his plan all along to get me to come to his race.
Well, since my job requires me to be there anyway to answer questions in his place and arrange interviews, I guess I have no choice but to show up.
Suddenly, my phone rings. It’s Alyssa.
“Hey, Emily! Are you going to the racetracks today?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Oh, I just figured it’d be fun for us to go together.”
I frown, wondering what she’s up to. It sounds like a trap. “You sure you want that?”
“Of course! I have a day off today, and I’m bored. Plus, I know you’ll need the mental support.”
“Thanks,” I say sarcastically.
“Aw, now, don’t take it the wrong way. You know I’m always cheering you on.”
“Yeah, I know. But … oh, forget it.”
“Oh, boy. Tell me … what happened?”
“Ah, it’s nothing,” I say, already flushing from the thought that I actually considered telling her.
“Is it about Chris?” she muses. “It is, isn’t it?”
“Maybe, but let’s just meet up, okay?” I’m trying my best to shift the conversation, but she’s not letting this go.
“What did he do? Did he try to do something? Did you guys make out?”
“Alyssa!” I can already feel my cheeks heat up.
“Oh, my god.”
“You didn’t.”
“I didn’t what.”
She muffles a laugh. “You did …. didn’t you?”
“I did what?” I frown.
“I knew it!” she squeals.
Oh, lord. Did she find out just by asking nothing? She did, didn’t she?
“You had sex with him!”
“What? What makes you think that?”
“Don’t deny it! When you get all secretive and keep your emotions tucked away, I know there’s something wrong. And since it has to do with Chris, I figured this was the only answer.”
“Alyssa! Seriously?”
“Hey, I’ve known for a long time that dude would not give up on you. I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did.”
“Oh, my god … we are not having this conversation.” I rub my forehead, wishing I could just hang up, but that would be rude.
“Don’t worry; I’ll keep your secret. But that doesn’t mean I can’t secretly be proud of you, Em.” I think I can hear her smile through the phone. “I knew you two would get back together.”
“Jesus, he really has told you a lot, hasn’t he?”
“Ahh, we talk sometimes. No biggie.”
“Right …” I sigh.
“I promise I won’t tell anyone as long as you come to the tracks with me.”
“Did he ask you to do this?” I say, raising a brow.
“Maybe …”
“Argh,” I growl.
“I’m doing this as a favor to you, not to him. I know how much you guys want each other, so I’m playing the intermediary here. You can both tell me your darkest secrets and desires, and I get to play matchmaker. Sound good?”
“No!”
She laughs again. “All right, all right. I promise I won’t do anything stupid. I just want you to come with me. He told me he wants you to be there when he wins. I think he just wants you to know how much he needs you.”
“So, he got to you, too …”
“He gets to everyone, Em. You, of all people, know he has that effect on people.”
“Manipulative bastard.”
“That’s one manipulative bastard who wants you the most. I’d say that’s a catch,” she muses.
“Okay, stop. I know how much he wants me and how much I want him, yada yada yada. Can we please get to the point? This is embarrassing.”
“Not until you say yes.”
“Fine,” I mumble.
“So you’ll come with me? Yay!” It’s almost as if she’s doing a little happy dance. “All right, meet me out front.”
***
An hour later
Everybody’s screaming and shouting Chris’s name as he and several other bikers wait for the signal. Alyssa is biting her nails next to me, the anticipation becoming too much for her, while I’m sitting here, still pondering what to do with our little ‘situation.’ I admit, I didn’t want to be here, but now that I am, I feel the enthusiasm bubbling to the surface. I don’t want him to lose. The last time that happened, he got drunk and we had hate-sex. I can’t imagine all the shit he’ll spew at the press when they ask him how it went. Oh, no … that’ll be a shitstorm I’d rather avoid.
He has to win. Not just for himself, but maybe a little bit for me too because I like to see that proud look on his face. It actually makes me feel good to see him smile.
And smile he does. When he spots me in the crowd, he seems surprised, but then he grins. He mouths ‘this one is for you, babe.’ My cheeks turn red as he sends me a wink and blows me a kiss. The girls behind me lose their minds, but I don’t care, as my heart jumps up and down at the thought that he’s aimed his affection at me.
It’s almost time, and everyone around me is getting anxious, including me. I can see Chris focusing on the job, as he lowers his visor and starts his motorcycle. The humming of the engines fuels the adrenaline pumping through my body.
And then they take off.
Biting my lip, I watch him shoot across the tracks like a lightning bolt, faster than I’ve ever seen him race. It’s as if he’s on fire, ahead of all the others, but they soon close the distance. They’re all fierce and masters of the track, slipping and sliding along the curves, passing each other with just an inch of space. It’s nerve-wracking to watch.
The crowd is cheering and the sound is deafening, but I’m really pumped up now. I didn’t know it could be this much fun to watch Chris race his ass off. I’m actually cheering for him, too.
When he almost touches the ground with his knee, another racer manages to pass him so tightly that their motorcycles briefly graze each other.
And then the most horrifying thing happens.
His bike starts to swing erratically across the road, the handle rapidly going left and right. Chris attempts to get it under control, but his strength alone is not enough to stop the motorcycle from spinning out of control.
From then on out, everything feels as if it’s happening in slow motion.
People scream, yelling his name, crying for mercy.
My fingers wrap around my face, tightening, holding on for dear life as if it’s the only thing tethering me to this world.
I can’t believe what’s happening.
I stare in horror at what seems like a nightmare unfolding.
Chris.
This can’t be happening right now.
Please tell me it isn’t true.
His bike catches a hard layer of dirt and flips over sideways, scraping along the road. I hold my breath as I see Chris tumble across the track, bikes passing him, some barely managing to miss him. The bike keeps spinning with him still on it, his body limp, even though his hands remain gripped on the handles.
When the bike stops, the crowd grows silent. Dust blows up from the ground, covering the scene in an ominous cloud.
My fingers dig into my skin as I glare at the onslaught.
Pieces of metal lie scattered across the road; the cloud still hiding his bike.
People around me stand up, but I can’t move. It’s as if I’m completely frozen, glued to my seat. This feels like a nightmare that’s too real to be true.
I never thought this could happen.
And now it did.
Chris was in an accident, and I don’t even know if he’s alive.
My skin prickles with goosebumps as Alyssa grabs my arm and gasps. “Chris … Oh, my god.”
Her voice sounds like a faint echo. A repeating sound at the bottom of a dark well where I’m trapped with no way out.
Chris.
Is he alive?
“Em,” Alyssa says.
I don’t know what to do.
I have to see him. I have to know if he’s still alive. If he’s hurt. If he’s okay.
Anything.
But I can’t move. It’s as if I don’t even exist anymore.
“Em! Snap out of it.” Alyssa jerks my arm, forcing me to move.
It doesn’t feel like I’m me anymore, but somehow, some way, my face turns toward her.
“We’ve got to go down there!” she says. “Let’s go.”
She drags me up from my seat and down the stairs, but I’m still completely fazed out after what just happened. I can still see the crash in front of me, as if it’s repeating again and again in my mind.
Everything that comes next happens in a blur.
Chris being hauled from underneath the wreckage.
His bike completely mauled.
His body lying limp on a stretcher. Doctors surrounding him, giving all kinds of medical attention.
And I’m just walking after them like a zombie, staring at Chris, wondering if I’ll ever see his smile again.
Chapter 34
Emily
I’m sipping coffee like it’s my only life support as I sit here in the waiting room. The clock on the wall ticks by slower than a slug. My fingers thrum on the Styrofoam cup as I stare at the door in front of me. At some point, someone is supposed to come out of there and tell me ev
erything is okay.
He has to be okay.
“It’ll be okay,” Alyssa says, as if she can hear my thoughts. She rubs my back and smiles at me. I smile back, but all I feel is fear. Fear that I’m about to lose the only person who really matters to me.
Suddenly, I spot Tricia rushing through the hallway. She stops when she sees me.
“Emily!”
“Tricia, you’re here.”
“Oh my god, what happened?” she says as she comes toward me. “Do you know anything?”
“No, they took him to the OR,” I say, as she hugs me tight. “The bike is torn to shreds.”
“But he’s okay?”
“I don’t know.” I sigh.
“I called Frank, but he’s stuck in traffic, so he’ll get here later. Adrian and Leonard are on their way, too.” She sits down beside me. “I wish I had been there to support him when it happened.”
“I’m glad you weren’t. It was horrible to watch.” I swallow away the lump in my throat. “I’m still shaken up.”
“I can imagine.”
“I’m sure the doctors are taking good care of him,” Alyssa says with a smile to cheer us up. “He’ll be all right.”
“Yeah …” Tricia and I both nod at each other, trying to make each other believe those words.
“God … and to think I was actually mad at him,” I mumble, staring at the floor.
“Mad at him? For what?”
I shrug. “You know …”
“Know what …?” Why is she acting like she suddenly doesn’t know? We’ve always hated each other.
“Nothing …” I grumble.
“No, tell me.” Tricia frowns. “I want to know.”
“Well, now that this has happened, it doesn’t seem as important anymore. But … I always blamed him for my father’s death.”
Her lips part and she leans in as if she wasn’t sure she heard me correctly.
“What? Why?”
“You know what he did,” I say. “How he blurted out all that crap in front of the entire school.” I lick my lips to think about how I’m going to say it without stepping on anyone’s toes. “Dad took those pills right after that incident.”
