Unfinished

by Shae Scott

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Time went by, but it seemed to stand still. It had been weeks, but I still felt like I was living the same day. The day I had told Owen to leave. The day I had broken us both. I felt trapped. I felt lost and completely distracted. I was too busy drowning in my pain to notice much that was happening around me.

  I tried to put on a brave face. I had to. I was a fool and everyone knew it. I had let myself believe that this was my fairytale. Granted, I’d known it was a complicated, fucked up fairytale, but I had still let myself fall for the idea of a happy ending. I was an idiot. Had I been an outsider looking in, I would have seen the signs. I would have had pity for the pathetic girl who thought her story was different. I knew now that there was no white horse, no prince charming coming to make things wonderful. It was a joke. I was a joke. I’d fallen for it.

  I tried to stay busy, but the quiet always found me. It hurt. I was beginning to admit that it always would. It didn’t help that I was going through this heartbreak over the holidays. It was just salt to my very deep wounds.

  I had weak moments. I had a lot of them. Often, I’d find myself on the verge of calling him. I would have the number pulled up and just stare at the call button. For minutes. For hours. I would remember. I would give into the memories. They were a sweet torture. I’d written him emails. Long drawn out emails that spilled out every thought and feeling that I had. Every regret. Every lingering hope. I never sent them. My logic and my heart were in constant battle. My heart refused to let go completely.

  I wasn’t healing. No one really knew how low I sunk when I was alone. I wore his shirt because the smell of him on it still soothed my soul. Well, Cassie knew, but luckily she was giving me time to wallow in my own pity for awhile before pulling out the tough love. I was grateful. I wasn’t ready to be done. It was unhealthy, I knew that. I’d get there. It was just going to take some time.

  Owen had tried to contact me. He apologized. He tried to change my mind. He wanted to see me, to talk. I would like to say that I had the will power to not read his emails or listen to his messages, but the truth is I listened, I read his words on lonely nights.

  Yeah, I wasn’t healing, not really. Not at all.

  *****

  Cassie was due over any moment. It was New Year’s Eve and luckily my best friend had taken pity on me and agreed to come over and spend it with me at home. Honestly, I think she was afraid I might slit my wrists if I had to ring in the new year all alone with my annoying heartbreak on my shoulders. Either way, I was glad to have her here to distract me. Tomorrow would start a new year. A year without Owen in it. I was trying to focus on it being a new beginning, but instead it just felt like a sad ending. It was as if the start of the new year was the final nail in my coffin, a deadline of sorts, to let go of everything that I was holding on to. I was being forced out of the nest. Reality had been waiting patiently for me to get my act together, but it was tired of playing nice. It was time for tough love. Wake up and get over it.

  And the truth was, it was a little easier. Each day gave me another success under my belt. Granted they were small successes, but they were something. I held on to them. I wanted to believe that I was making progress. I wanted to believe that I hadn’t fully cemented my place as this pathetic heart broken girl. It was hard though. I felt like I had lost myself. I tried to remember who I’d been before he’d shown back up in my life. I tried to find her again. But I couldn’t. It was as if he’d come in and changed her so much that there was no going back. I had to find a new version of myself. I had to heal and live with the decision that I had made.

  Owen had stopped writing. He hadn’t tried to call in days. I should be happy about that. Maybe it would help me move forward. But really, it just made me sad. He was obviously giving up and letting me go. I hadn’t returned any of his calls, so for all he knew I was over it. It was better that way. It was. But damn, if it didn't hurt.

  There was a knock on the door, Cassie was early. Elbows deep in sudsy water, I groaned and searched for a towel. “Just a second,” I called out. I puffed a stray strand of hair from my face and hustled to the door. “You’re early,” I scolded as I swung the door opened. “Why didn’t you just use your key?” My voice dropped at the end and I froze, because it wasn’t Cassie on my doorstep. It was Owen. The darkened porch kept him in shadows. He wore faded jeans and a dark grey hoodie, and a baseball cap pulled low. He looked so devastatingly handsome that it literally took my breath away. It took a full minute for me to even process that he was actually standing right in front of me.

  “What are you doing here?” I managed. The cool breeze hit my bare arms and I shivered. At least I think it was the breeze causing the reaction. At this point I wasn’t sure. Either way, I felt very exposed.

  “I needed to see you,” he said, almost shyly.

  “Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say. I mean this was the last thing that I had expected. Honestly, I hadn’t ever expected to see him again. Yet here he was, standing on my doorstep. I had to remind myself that running into his arms was not the best idea. But, I really wanted to. The very thought made it difficult for me to breathe. As much as I had convinced myself that I was moving forward and letting Owen go, this moment made me a liar. I hadn’t moved on at all. I had only been surviving. Seeing him in front of me reminded me that I had barely been breathing this past month.

  “Can I come in?” he asked. I bit my lip, unsure. Could I let him in? Letting him in felt all kinds of dangerous. Every attempt that I had made to move forward meant nothing. Square one, that was where I found myself all over again. But I refused to let him know that. I could see in his eyes what he was here for and as badly as I craved the same thing, I couldn’t let that happen. My heart couldn’t take it. It was time to find my game face.

  “Please,” he offered quietly. The plea, so gentle and earnest, it broke through a little. I sighed and opened the door a little wider to let him pass. My breath caught as he brushed past me. I wondered if the contact had been intentional. The look in his eyes told me that it was.

  I followed him into the living room, wondering momentarily if I should go to my room and get my robe. I felt vulnerable standing there in my flannel pants and tank top. I decided against it when I thought it might give him the upper hand. God, if he could hear my inner dialog he would most certainly laugh. I just hoped it wasn’t written all over my face. He was always so good at reading me. I used to love that about him, but right now it was just annoying.

  Owen sat down on the couch and leaned forward on his knees. He was nervous. I wanted to go to him and run my fingers across his jaw, ease the furrow in his brow. But, I knew I couldn’t do that, so I leaned against the chair, arms crossed and waited for him to speak.

  “How have you been?” he asked finally. I smiled a little. His nervousness was enough to soften my heart. I scolded myself for letting it.

  “Did you come all this way to ask me that?” I asked.

  “Well, you haven’t answered any of my emails, calls, or texts,” he said, holding my gaze.

  I shrugged. I didn’t know how to respond to that.

  “I wanted to see you,” he said.

  “Owen, we decided that-” I started. He cut me off as his head snapped up, his eyes suddenly fierce.

  “No, you decided. You pushed me away,” he said, anger filling his tone. “You gave up,”

  I sighed. Letting him in had been a mistake. I could see that this conversation was not going to go well. If either of us was hoping for closure, I was pretty sure that we would both be disappointed.

  “You didn’t give me a choice,” I said simply. I was afraid that extra words at this point would be my undoing. I was too close to the edge. I could feel tears. I could feel my resolve close to collapse. I wasn’t ready for this conversation. I wasn’t sure that I would ever be ready.

  “You didn’t even give me a chance to explain,” he said.

  “What exactly did you need to explain? You boug
ht a ring for another woman, Owen. That kind of sums everything up. What did you expect me to do? Smile and pretend that it was okay? You made me look like a fool.” I felt a flash of hot anger fill me. It was welcome, as it helped me ignore the pain.

  He groaned loudly and rose to his feet. “Damn it, Ally. Can’t you just give me a goddamned minute to explain?” His eyes were hard and full of frustration.

  I shook my head and folded my arms across my chest, in defense, in stubbornness, in an attempt to warm myself from the ice that seemed to surround me.

  “Owen, please, I don’t want to have this fight again. I’m trying my best to move forward and to let us go. I can’t do that when you keep showing up and pulling me backwards.” I hoped my voice sounded stronger than I felt. I needed him to hear me. I needed him to believe my words.

  “I just wanted to talk. I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

  “But you are hurting me. Don’t you see that? Each time I see you or I get a text or a call I am right back where I started. It’s like you want me to hurt and miss you. But I can’t do that anymore. I can’t be broken for you, not anymore.” I was fighting tears now. I tried to read his expression, but he avoided my eyes, getting up and walking to the window.

  I waited for a long time without speaking. He stood, his back to me, still as a statue. The only movement I saw was his hand, clenching into a fist. The silence was so heavy. I felt torn. Even with all of the tension between us, having him this close made me feel like I was home again, which was silly because he wasn’t my home anymore. Had he ever really been?

  The truth is, having him this close to me was dangerous. There was so much hurt from our goodbye that having him here, seeing him, was crushing. It was a constant tug of war within me, a constant struggle between what I desperately wanted and what I had to do in order to survive.

  Finally, he turned back to me. I instantly felt the change in the air. He was harder somehow, determined and almost business like. It was unsettling. This wasn’t the Owen that I knew.

  “You’re right.” His voice was colder too. It made me shiver. “I shouldn’t have come here. I should have never pushed you into this.” He waved his hand in the air between us, dismissively.

  I was confused. When he’d gotten here I was sure it was because he was going to try and push for some sort of reconciliation. I was prepared, somewhat, to deal with that. I tried hard to convince everyone around me, myself included, that I just wanted to be away from the whole thing and move on. I told myself that I wanted him to stay away so that I could heal and forget him. But the thought of forgetting him, that wasn’t nearly as appealing as I let on. Even right now I longed to be close enough to take in his scent. I was weak. I was a fool. But no one had to know that but me.

  “I led you on,” he said holding my gaze, his eyes were dark and without any of the warmth that I had come to expect from him. He felt like a stranger.

  I’m sure my face reflected the confusion I had. His abrupt change in demeanor had me spinning.

  He gave me a smirk. The one that I hated, the cocky grin that he’d used on all of those bimbos in high school. He’d never used it on me.

  “Look, Kit Kat, we both know the score. We tried it, it didn’t work out. It happens. I’m sorry for leading you on and making you think it was more than it was. That was wrong. I guess I never thought you’d get this attached. It’s why I steer clear of the good girls.” He had the nerve to chuckle.

  “The good girls?” I asked. I was having trouble processing his words. I couldn’t keep up.

  He smirked again. “Yeah, you’re a good girl. I try to stay away from ya’ll, but hell, you’re beautiful and after that night in the barn I had to see it through when I got the chance. I had to see how it felt to be with you.”

  I stared at him. I didn’t have words. Who was this man in front of me? I had never seen him before.

  “Don’t look at me like that…all sad puppy dog. We can be grown ups about this. You were right. I just got caught up in the whole thing. You know, it was like playing house or something. But you don’t fit in my life. I’ve worked damn hard at getting my life together. I worked my way into a lucrative job, and I would never walk away from that. It is too important to me. I shouldn’t have tried to make you believe that I would,” he shrugged. “Honestly, I was having too much fun fucking you to give it too much thought. But, we were friends. I shouldn’t have ruined that by trying to get you into bed. I was selfish. We both know who I am. I don’t love you. I don’t even know what it means to love someone. I just got caught up and I realize that now.” His voice was cold, level, unemotional.

  “You’re an asshole,” I said. The words fell out of my mouth before I’d even thought about them. Their bite lessened by the fact that I had tears streaming down my cheeks.

  “I’ve never denied it,” he shrugged.

  I searched his eyes, trying to read him, but he was giving absolutely nothing away.

  “So what? Why did you even come here then? Did you want to see the poor pathetic girl? Did you want to finish me off? Completely destroy me? Is that what you wanted? Does it make you feel better to see me broken?” I heard the quiver in my voice and I hated it.

  “Honestly, I don’t know why I am here. It was a mistake. All of it,” he said. He leveled his eyes at me when he spoke and the words cut that much deeper.

  All of it.

  Him and me.

  A mistake.

  He was still by the wall, I was still by the chair and the distance between us never felt so wide. I was fighting so hard not to break down. I wished for anger. I needed the fury that would allow me to get through this moment. He didn’t deserve my tears.

  “I don’t even know who you are right now,” I said finally finding my voice. He watched me with that same blank expression, almost as if he were waiting for me to lay in to him. I was struck with the realization that this was probably the last time I would see him.

  “You never knew me. Not really. If you had, you would have never answered that first email,” he said coldly.

  I stared at him, trying to find the man I loved, trying to find any part of him in the cold eyes staring back at me. But he wasn’t there. I had lost him. Still, I couldn’t let him walk away without saying my piece. If I did, I would regret it.

  “You can stand there and tell me that what happened between us wasn’t real. You can be the asshole if that’s what you need to be. You can walk out that door and tell yourself that this was how it had to be, that it’s who you are. But you’ll be a liar. Because this moment has nothing to do with your past, or who you think you are going to end up becoming. This is the moment that you choose to be that person. This is the moment you choose to be the asshole who can’t have something real.

  “I am not gonna lie and deny that you’ve broken my heart. You have broken me. But, I won’t pretend that I never loved you. And even though you are taking everything we shared over the years and you’re destroying it, I’m not afraid to admit that it meant something. Maybe I am a good girl. I was good for you and I would have worked each day to show you who you really are, who I saw, because that guy was worth it.

  “But you should also know this, Owen. When you think back about this moment don’t think I am going to be sitting here broken for you forever. I had a friend once who told me not to waste my tears on insensitive assholes, that I was better than that. And he was right. Because I will get past this and I’ll be happy. And you’ll still be an asshole with nobody around who really knows you,” I took a deep breath, “Now get out of my house and leave me the fuck alone,” I leveled my gaze at him. He still gave nothing away and it helped me to shut down.

  He waited another moment and then he moved towards the door. I held my breath as he got closer and paused beside me. “Goodbye, Ally,” he said, his voice quiet. And then he was gone. The door shut with a finality that hit my heart with a devastating blow and I sunk to my knees and began to cry.

  Epilogue

&nbs
p; OWEN

  It’s been six months since I last saw her. Six months since I looked her in the eye and I lied. It’s been six months since that night, when I walked out her door, pulled my car over and sobbed like a baby. It’s been six months and I’ve spent each day trying to live through the hurt and become the man that she deserves.

  She doesn’t know that I left my job the day I showed up at her door. I never told her. It’s why I showed up that night, to tell her, to ask her to forgive me, to see if she still wanted me.

  Then I saw that look on her face. I saw the pain that I had put her through and I hated myself for it. I would have done anything to take it all back, to be able to take that look away and the pain there in her eyes.

  But I couldn’t take it back, so I did the unthinkable.

  I broke her more.

  I broke her completely.

  I saw it happen and I had to stand there and pretend that it didn’t gut me inside.

  I took the fragile thread that was holding us together, the hope that I saw in her eyes, and I snapped it.

  I destroyed us.

  Because I wasn’t enough.

  I did it for her.

  I walked away because she needed something more than I could be.

  That’s what I told myself.

  That’s what I tell myself each day.

  But I can’t pretend anymore.

  She is all I ever needed.

  She is more than I could ever want.

  And maybe it’s selfish and maybe I have no hope of ever getting her back, but I know now that I have to try.

  And this time, I’m going all in.

  Acknowledgements

  I have always been a lover of words. They can be so powerful; they break, they heal, they take you on a journey you never expected. Words have always been my safe place. I use them to sort out my problems and fears and now I use them to give life to the stories in my head.