by Carian Cole
"You're really here?" I push myself up to lean against the headboard, eyeing him, still expecting him to disappear.
If smiles could heal broken hearts, his definitely holds that magic. "Of course, I'm here. Your father called me after he talked to you."
I throw my arms around his neck and hug him tight. I love this man without end. No matter what, I know that will never, ever change. He is my heart.
His muscular arms circle me and he holds me until I slowly and very reluctantly pull away from the haven of his chest. "I'm so glad you came," I say, reaching for a tissue from the box on my nightstand. I don't want to cry anymore, but new bittersweet tears are already welling up behind my eyes.
"I loved her, too," he says simply. "And I have something for you." He reaches into his worn leather jacket and my mouth falls open as he pulls out Mopsy, my old, raggedy stuffed bunny that he gave me for my fifth birthday. I thought I had lost her and threw quite a tantrum, which led to him taking me to adopt Snuggles.
I slowly take the plush toy from him, confused as to how he has it after all these years. The ear is ripped, just like it was long ago, so I know this is definitely the same toy and not a similar one he found at a garage sale someplace.
"It's my Mopsy... I thought she was gone. I totally forgot about her."
"I know," He nods and a faint smile crosses his lips. "A few days after you lost it, I found her in the bushes by the front door of your house. It must have fallen out of your little backpack," his smile turns into a disappointed frown. "I feel like shit that I didn't give it to you, Kenzi. I just wanted something of yours, I think. It's been in my closet all this time. I know I'm an asshole-"
"No," I stop him, my voice wavering. "You're not. I totally understand," I reach out and hesitantly touch his cheek, making him look at me. "I wanted your things, too. I always wanted some part of you to hold onto."
"I guess I felt that about you, too."
My heart hammers as we stare at each other, his dark gaze drifting from my eyes, to my lips, then back to my eyes again, debating. Struggling. I hold my breath, waiting for him to kiss me again, feeling that intense undeniable pull, but instead, he grabs my hand from his cheek, quickly brushes his lips across my knuckles, and rests my hand on the bed, pulling his away.
"Kenzi...I can't." His stormy eyes close and he shakes his head.
I nod and hug my stuffed toy against me, biting my lip to keep my tears at bay. He scoots closer to me on the bed, his leg pressing against mine through the thin quilt that's covering me, and I want him closer. I want to know what it would feel like to mold my body up against his and fall asleep in his arms. I'm envious of childhood me, who used to climb on his lap and nap with my head nestled between his shoulder and his neck.
"If it's okay with you, I'm going to take Snuggles back to your house tonight, and I'm going to bury her next to your water fountain. And when you get back home, we can plant some flowers and get a special stone for her, okay?"
"You'd do that?" This incredibly sexy man, who must have better things to do, is going to drive almost six hours round trip to bury my pet bunny for me. Just when I thought I couldn't possibly love him more, the space in my heart that is only for him doubles in size. I blink at him, teetering between bursting into tears again and wanting to kiss him madly. Is this my pseudo-uncle taking care of me or is this a man who has feelings for me doing things that would make him the most awesome boyfriend in the world?
"That's why I came here so fast. I thought you'd want her home."
I'm unable to bring himself to look at him. I'm afraid if I do, I'm going to kiss him, whether he wants me to or not, because he's got my heart in a major chokehold right now. "I'd like that a lot." I manage to say.
"Listen, Angel. I know how much you love visiting Katherine. Don't let this ruin your stay, okay? I don't want you to attach bad memories here. You gave that rabbit an amazing life; she lived way longer than most rabbits do, and I think this was where she wanted to go - sleeping in your room close to you, with a beautiful view. Fuck, if I had the choice, I'd go the same way someday."
I finally look up at him, and I can't hold back what I'm feeling any longer. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?"
His broad chest rises and falls slowly, and I now recognize this as him trying to gain control of himself. Trying to prevent another collision. As he absently touches the plush toy lying between us, he answers in a soft, somewhat melancholy tone.
"I hope as much as I love you."
Yes, I do.
He slowly stands, and I feel like he's taking pieces of my heart with him. Pieces I need to be whole. I have no doubt we've always loved each other, but now I'm not sure what kind of love this is. I used to think love was love and there was no gray area, but I'm learning it's just not that simple after all. Love is like an onion, with a lot of layers and a lot of tears before you get to the good part.
"I want you to go in the other room while I take care of her. Then I have to head out so I can get home before dark. Your dad's waiting for me. Apparently he wants to supervise and say some words."
I can't help but smile through sadness, because that is so much like my father to want to do a eulogy for a bunny.
"Okay...can you wait out in the hallway for a few minutes while I get dressed?" All I have on is the thin t-shirt and boy shorts I slept in last night and even though he's seen me barely dressed a hundred times, it suddenly feels too intimate.
I catch him glance down my body hidden beneath the blanket before he looks away, pulling my beanie hat down a little lower over his forehead. "Yeah...I'll come back in a few minutes."
Just as he reaches my door, I call out to him. "Hey, Tor?"
He stops and turns around with a questioning look on his face.
"When I get home, I'm giving this back to you. I want you to have it." I hold up Mopsy, and he grins and nods before he closes my bedroom door behind him.
I wait on the back porch as Tor prepares my bunny and puts her and her cage in his truck, and when he comes back to the house to say goodbye to Katherine and me, I walk back outside with him so we can be alone before he makes the drive back home.
"I can't even tell you how much this means to me, Tor."
"I already know. Just remember what I said, enjoy your summer."
"I will." The breeze carries his cologne, and I inhale it deep into me, aching to have any part of him be mine to keep. I don't want him to leave. I want to grab his hand and walk along the water with him and make wishes. I want to watch the sunset with him and cuddle up with him against the cool breeze and talk the night away. "I've missed you since I left, Tor. I don't like not talking to you."
He looks at his feet and then slowly back up at me. "I miss you too. But this doesn't change anything. There can't be anything between us."
I tilt my head and stare up at him, feeling shorter as I stand barefoot next to him on the quiet street. "There already is something between us."
"Kenzi..."
"We can try to ignore it all we want, but it's still there. I don't think you can just make it go away. Right?"
He stares off behind me now, through the trees and towards the very place on the beach I wish we were cuddled up together right now, instead of standing here in denial.
"I know I'm young, but I'm not stupid. I know what real feelings are. Can you really stand here and say that what we're feeling isn't happening?"
"No."
"Why are you so against it? Maybe we could be happy..."
His head snaps to face me. "We can't, Kenzi. You're seventeen. I'm fucking thirty-two. You're my best friend’s kid. Trust me, it would never, ever work. Not one person in our lives would accept us. Think about that. Think about how close you are to your family. Think about how close I am to your family. And now think about how disgusted they would be. How much they would hate me. Could you be happy with that?"
I shake my head as the truth of his words sink into my soul like a boulder. "No. That would be awf
ul."
My God, he's right. I can't think of one person that would be happy for us. Maybe Chloe, but she would mainly be interested in me having sex with someone older and hot and probably wouldn't be concerned with much else. Everyone else would go completely ballistic. My father and my uncles would want to kill Tor and most likely send me off to live with nuns.
"So, that's why, Kenz. Let's just be happy we have a great friendship. That's more than most people have. How's the saying go? Lovers come and go, but friends are forever? That's what I want. You, in my life forever, with nothing fucking it up."
"I want that too. I just thought..." I lick my lips nervously as I bravely look him in the eye. "I thought I could make you happy."
His complexion pales a shade. Maybe two shades. "Kenzi, you do make me happy. I love hanging out with you. But I need a real woman to be in a relationship with," he rubs the scruff of his face and looks at me uncomfortably. "There's things I need and want that you can't give me."
I try to swallow past the lump of embarrassment, anger, and sadness that has lodged in my throat.
"Oh." Of course. He's talking about sex, and while he knows I'm a virgin, he probably can also figure out that I've not done much more than kiss. Men seem to have a radar for that sort of thing and I must be a big red beeping dot on the inexperience map. "But maybe you could teach-"
He interrupts me before I can go any further. "No. Hell no. We are not talking about this," he lets out a low whistle and shakes his head. "You gotta stop doing this to me, Kenz. It's not cool. I'm only human, ya know. I mean, fuck."
"I'm sorry."
He grabs my hand and holds it in his, and it brings me back from sinking into the depths of extreme awkwardness. "I love you," he says. "Seriously, you're my favorite person on this planet. But I want us to go back to how we were. Friends, okay?"
"Okay."
My legs get weak when he winks at me and I hold onto his hand for a moment too long as he tries to let go. "Now I'm heading outta here to take care of your bunny. I'll text you later." He places his hands on the sides of my head and leans down to kiss my forehead. His affectionate gestures cause my heart to twirl. He's always been this way, but my body's and heart's reaction to it lately is entirely different than it's ever been before. When I was little, it made me feel adored. When I was an early teen, it felt annoying and embarrassing. But now, it's a life force I can't seem to get enough of.
"I don't want you to be sad. Enjoy your vacation. Promise me?"
"I promise."
I wave to him as his truck pulls away from the curb, the hero who bought me a bunny to cheer me up when I was five years old now driving her little body back home to lay her to rest for me. I know I shouldn't be feeling so deeply for him, or wanting to feel his lips on mine and be tangled in his embrace, but I crave all of that and so much more.
If he thinks I can't be a real woman and make him happy in every way a man needs to be happy - that he needs to be happy - then I'm going to prove him wrong. My mom told me to always follow my heart, and mine is galloping towards him like a wild horse.
16
Tor
Kenzi ~ age sixteen
Tor ~ age thirty-one
Every week when I clean Tor's house, I feel guilty that he pays me fifty dollars because his house is always so clean already. I wipe down his kitchen and bathrooms, do his laundry if any is laying around, clean out his refrigerator, and vacuum. Today I feel like I should try to do more to justify my fifty, so I clean all his windows and mirrors, and move as much of his furniture as I can to vacuum under it. In the corner of his bedroom is an old glass jug that's about two and a half feet high and about the same in circumference with a big handle on the side. The jug is filled with mostly quarters and dimes that reach about three inches away from the top opening of the jug. It's been in the same place for as far back as I can remember, so I try to move it so I can vacuum underneath it and around it, but it weighs a ton. I can't budge it for anything. He comes into the bedroom just as I'm cleaning it with glass spray cleaner and a cloth.
"Uncle Tor, what the hell is this thing?" I ask him from where I'm sitting on the floor next to it. "I wanted to clean around it but it weighs about a hundred pounds."
He kneels down next to me. "It's a special family tradition. Do you want to know what it is?"
"Well, now I'm intrigued, so yeah, you hafta tell me." I always want to know as much about Tor as possible because he's not like anyone else I've ever met before.
"This bottle used to belong to my great grandfather. He started putting coins in it when he was twelve years old, and when he fell in love with my great grandmother, he dumped out all the change and that's what he used to buy her engagement ring, because he didn't have much money. Then he gave the jug to my grandfather, who did the same."
I smile at him, happy that he shared such a close family memory with me. "Wow, that's pretty cool. Did your dad do the same with your mom's ring?"
"Yup, and then he gave it to me when I was fourteen. My brothers each have a bottle too, but this one here was my great grandfather’s, so it means a lot to me."
Fascinated with the romance of the tradition, I stare at the jug, wondering how many quarters and dimes are in there. One time I guessed how many jellybeans were in a bottle for a class project and was only off by two, but this is way harder.
"How much money do you think is in there?" I ask with curiosity.
"I'm not sure. A lot. A few thousand at least."
"Damn. That's going to be a big diamond."
He ruffles my hair and stands up. "I'm sure she'll be worth it. If I ever get married, that is. The bottle's almost full and I don't exactly have anyone to propose to. I hope I don't wreck the family tradition and end up with just a big bottle of money."
"I seriously doubt that."
My heart twinges with a slight beat of jealousy over the woman who will someday get to be Mrs. Toren Grace.
Tor
I see we haven't been properly introduced. I'm the asshole who broke the fragile heart of a seventeen-year-old girl by telling her she can't give me what I want and need.
The reality of it all is that I think she's probably the only woman on the planet who actually can give me everything I've ever wanted, needed, and dreamed of. Somewhere the universe fucked up big and screwed up our timing. I should have been younger. She should have been older. We should've met as strangers, bumping into each other in some random way. As I stand under the shower and let the hot water spray over me, I can see in my mind how we should have met. She'd be rushing out of the cafe, on her way to the craft store to buy parchment paper and ink the color of night for her favorite fountain pen. I'd be walking down the sidewalk, and we'd crash into each other. She'd drop her purse, and I'd bend down to help her pick up her things. There'd be a penny on the ground, and when I hand it to her, our fingers would touch. She'd look at me with those big green eyes and that shy smile of hers that fucking shatters me, and that would be the start of our forever. She'd be wearing jeans with holes in the knees, an eighties band t-shirt, little leather motorcycle boots with pink socks peeking out of the tops, and that beanie on her head with the purple heart that would eventually become mine. Her sensual cuteness would captivate me, and I'd force up the courage ask her out, afraid of never seeing this magical little creature again. She'd write her number on my hand in writing so beautiful that I'd never want to wash it off. Instead I'd take a picture of it so I can keep it forever and call it the 'the day my wife gave me her phone number'.
Why couldn't the powers that be given us that scenario?
I wonder what made little Kenzi Valentine decide I was husband material when she was just five years old. And fuck me, I think she still believes that. I can see it in her eyes in the way she looks at me like I'm the only person in the world that matters, and it literally stalls my heart. She's been committed to me in her own way for twelve years, which is twisted irony considering that no one else has been capable of that.
Stepping out of the steamy shower, I wrap a white towel around my waist and head out to the kitchen to make my morning protein shake and there she is, standing at the window in my dining room looking out at the back yard.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" I ask, and then turn to the dog, who's just sitting there acting like it's okay for anyone to waltz into our house. "And why the hell don't you bark when people come in? You suck as a dog."
He wags his tail at me and gets up to follow me to the kitchen, with the still nameless kitten right behind him like a fuzzy shadow.
"When did you get all these pets? It's like a zoo in here. My allergies are going to go crazy," she says, turning away from the window to look at me.
"I asked you a question," I repeat, taking my blender out of the cabinet.
"You've been avoiding me, so I decided to just come over."
"That's what happens when people break up, Syd. They avoid each other. Permanently."
When I turn around to get milk out of the fridge, she's leaning over the kitchen island, her cleavage spilling out of the tight black tank top she's wearing. I ignore her lame antics to get attention. That shit doesn't work with me.
"Tor, come on. We've broken up a million times, and we always get back together. Stop being a drama llama. We belong together. "
Sydni isn't the one that got away; she's the one that won't go away.
I shake my head, pour milk into the blender with my protein powder and a handful of frozen fruit, and answer her with a sarcastic laugh. "No, we don't. And you can't just be coming into my house any time you want."
"I have a key, remember?"
"Not anymore. I want it back."
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah, I am. I don't want you showing up whenever you feel like it."
She pulls her keys out of her purse and unhooks my house key, slamming it down on the countertop between us. "Here. Happy now?"
