by Emma Nichols
“Yup. Nothing glamorous about my life. I go to work. I come home. That’s about it.” I nod and give him a pathetic grin.
“What about…” He stops himself. “Are you telling me that you’re not seeing anyone?”
“No one to speak of. I’ve become very good at sabotaging every relationship I’ve had for the last five years. Which isn’t many, but if anyone acts interested it feels safer to push them away.” I let go of his hand and twist my hair over my shoulder and cross my arms in front of my chest.
Frowning, he says, “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”
“And what the hell are we doing about it? I say we start making a change. I’ve been going through the motions. My gigs have sucked. I’m done with that. It’s time to try harder.” I pulled it together for the reunion, why can’t I do that back in Nashville?
“It’s a good idea. I haven’t written anything since you left, until the song at the reunion. The first rehearsal when we played together, even if it was for a short time, changed something in me. Hell, it might’ve changed when I saw you at the diner on Thursday.”
My heart seems to beat for the first time in five years, thudding in my chest, causing my skin to get warm. Could this all be for real?
“I know that look on your face,” he says. “I’m scaring you. That’s not what I want. You know how it’s always been with us. We talk, that’s all I’m doing.”
Right, but we haven’t had one conversation since I left, so this isn’t our norm anymore. I wasn’t expecting any of this and I don’t know how to process it. “What about the lyrics to your new song? ‘Can’t go back, feel like going back.’ And, nothing has ever felt that same. What was that about?”
Leaning in closer, his gray eyes are locked on mine. “Linus, don’t you wish we could get the band back together? We all were right back at it last night, like no time has gone by. Didn’t you feel it, too?”
He’s deflecting. Not wanting to answer my question because he thinks he’s scaring me, and he doesn’t want to make it worse. I understand and agree. With all of my heart, I wish the band were back together.
My phone buzzes and I pick it up from the table. It’s Rachel.
Where are you? We have to leave for the airport soon.
“Oh, no. It’s Rachel. We’ve got to leave soon. I’ve got to go pick her up.”
Ethan has a disappointed look on his face. “Thank you for coming to meet me.”
“It wasn’t a problem. Promise me that you’re going to try harder in your life. You deserve it,” I say as I stand up.
Getting up, he grabs my hand and says, “Okay. And what would you say if I asked you to talk to me? On the phone every once in a while?” His tone is sweet and when he looks at me with those damn sexy eyes this way, how can I say no?
“You think that’s a good idea?” I’d like to know what his intentions are. This could be bad, falling back into old habits with Ethan again. He’s my past. But standing here with him now feels like there’s no one in the world I’d rather talk to.
“Hell, yes, I think it’s a good idea. Talking to you, being around you has been the only thing that’s put a real smile on my face in I don’t know how long. And you just admitted to me that things aren’t going great in your world either. We can be there for each other, as friends, and encourage each other to live our best lives. Please say yes.”
There’s a stupid nagging voice in the back of my head that’s telling me to say no. But I know what it is. It’s fear. I’m not going to listen because he’s right. Since I’ve been home and finally let loose, I’ve had the best time and felt like the old me again. “Okay. We can talk.”
Ethan’s face breaks into a beautiful smile full of straight white teeth. “Yeah?”
Nodding, I say, “I’ve got to go now.”
Wrapping me up in his strong arms, he brings me into a disarming hug and I sink into him, letting his warmth and his citrus and spice scent overwhelm me. The steady rhythm of his heart anchors me here to the present. With him I feel safe and protected like everything will be okay, as long as we’re friends.
My buzzing phone has Ethan pulling away, but not by much. His eyes find mine and there’s longing there. My belly twists with wanting him, so much so that if I’d give in and lean forward an inch our lips would touch again. I want that so much, but it isn’t the right time, so I push off his muscled chest. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“That sounds good. Have a safe flight. Please text me when you land.”
“Okay,” I say and turn to walk toward my car and away from the best man I’ve ever been with.
“We’ve got to go. You’re going to make us late. Where were you?” my sister says when I walk in the door.
My mother sits at the kitchen table with her bathrobe on and her hair is wet. She’s sipping on a cup of coffee. “Hi, honey. Everything okay? You look like you’ve been crying.”
Wiping at my eyes, I say, “No, must be allergies. I’m fine. You’re right, sis, we better get going so we don’t miss our plane.”
Rachel’s eyes scan me. Apparently, I didn’t do a good enough job cleaning off my face after the cry fest I just had in the car. I give Rachel the, ‘I’ll tell you about it in the car’ look.
“I’ve got my bags, go get yours and let’s go,” Rachel says, her tone impatient.
Running to my room, I pick up the framed picture of me and Dad that sits on my nightstand. “Hey, Daddy. It’s been good to be home. I wish you were here, too. Mom needs you and I do, too. But I think everything is going to work out. I’ve got a feeling.” I run my fingertip over his face and set it back down.
Grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder, I go back out to the living room where my sister and mom are hugging.
Mom pulls away and walks over to me and puts her thin arms around me. “It was nice to see my girls. Promise you’ll come back again and see me really soon.”
“I’d like that, Mom.” And I mean it. Being back in Pennsylvania has given me a new perspective on my life. I’d like to figure out a way to repair our relationship. “I’m going to be calling you one day a week. You can pick what day works best for your schedule. How does that sound?”
There’s a gleam in her eyes when she says, “I’d like that.”
“Great idea,” Rachel says, looking between Mom and me. “Now we’ve got to head out.”
“Will you send me a text when you make it back?” Mom asks.
“Sure will,” Rachel says as she shoos me out the door.
Putting our bags in the rental car, we buckle up with Rachel in the driver’s seat, me sitting shot gun, and head toward the airport.
“That was nice of you, extending an olive branch to Mom.”
“Yeah, I feel like it’s time to move forward. We can’t go back, but Dad wouldn’t want Mom and me to act the way we’re acting, distant and sulky. Being home has brought me some clarity. I’ve got to start stepping up in my life or it’s going to go by with me sitting alone in my bathrobe watching soaps.”
We both giggle at the comment, but it’s true. Life is passing me by and I’m tired of it. Hearing the crowd cheer last night sparked a flame in me and I want to use this heat and momentum to propel me forward. The talk with Ethan helped, too. Neither of us are living our lives to their fullest potential. Enough is enough.
“So what are you going to do about it?” Rachel asks.
“It’s time to put my head down and book gigs and give it one hundred and ten percent. And write more, too,” I say with enthusiasm.
“Good, I’m holding you to it. And by the way, where were you this morning?” Rachel asks, looking over at me with her eyebrows pinched together.
Looking out the window to avoid her scrutiny, I decide how much I want to tell. It’s no use hiding things from her. She can read me like a book. “Ethan wanted to meet with me this morning.”
“About what?” Her voice is pitched high and she pats my shoulder over and over with her hand.
“It was only a talk. Nothing big.” I do my best at sounding nonchalant.
Shaking her head, she says, “Oh, no. Spill it. Did he tell you that he broke up with Jane last night after you left? I was there and overheard most of it.”
My eyes widen. “Well, he did mention that he broke things off and we had a nice chat about how great it’s been this weekend. Like old times,” I say.
“And?” Rachel pulls out onto the highway and merges in with traffic.
It’s pointless to drag it out. Rachel won’t give up until I give her something. “And he asked if we could talk, as friends. Turns out we’ve both missed our friendship.”
Rachel opens her mouth and laughs. “Ethan misses more than that. The man didn’t take his eyes off you the entire weekend. From the moment he laid eyes on you at the diner, I could see it.” Rachel faces me with a broad smile on her face. “He’s still in love with you.”
“He misses me, but I don’t think he’s still in love with me.”
Rachel puts the signal light on and travels over three lanes of traffic and gets off at the airport exit. “You’d have to be blind not to see it. He ended things with Jane. And the song he wrote about you? Come on. The writing is on the wall.”
I giggle-snort because she’s right, yet here I am leaving town and Ethan behind. “It doesn’t matter if any of that is true because I live seven hundred miles away. It’s a hopeless situation. Friends are something we can do.”
Rachel looks at me like I’ve lost it. “Do you still love him?”
“No,” I say, the knee jerk answer. But is that true? A war of emotions passes through me. There’s a part of me that still does have deep feelings for him. It’s easier to ignore when I don’t see him, but spending these few short days with him has proven to me that I still do care for him. “But I’m not entirely sure how I feel toward him. Does that make sense?”
“Of course. You guys never really had closure. One day you decided to leave and he didn’t come with you. There wasn’t a good reason for you to break up, but you did anyway. Now that you’ve seen each other again, I’m sure it’s stirred up a bunch of emotions for both of you.”
“Yeah,” I agree with her.
“And about last night,” she says, “I ended up staying for another hour at the reunion and then Tom and I went back to his place.” Her eyes sparkle with mischief and she pretends to fan herself with her hand.
“What happened?”
“Let’s just say I didn’t get much sleep last night.” We pull up in front of the rental car returns, find a parking spot, and turn off the ignition.
Oh my gosh. My sister and Tom hooked up. Didn’t see that one coming. She seems happy about it, too. “You better not leave anything out.”
We get our bags and instruments out of the trunk and head into customer service.
“Oh, don’t worry. You’re never going to believe it. I’ll tell you the whole story on the plane.” She hands the keys to the gentleman at the desk.
My curiosity is at an all time high. “Fine, I can wait.”
Tugging my phone out of my purse, there’s a text from Ethan.
I miss you already, so I booked a flight to Nashville next month.
To be continued…
If you’re interested in hearing the rest of the story, visit my Amazon page to grab book two in the series: http://amzn.to/2GK3qkr
About the Author
Emma Tharp is the author of The Bluff Harbor Series, The McLoughlin Brothers Series, Drawn to Dark, and Keeping It Casual. She was raised in upstate New York. Being an only child, she spent a great deal of time alone, dreaming up characters who would keep her company on long family road trips. Putting her writing on the back burner, she went to college and became a chiropractor. After spending twelve years healing patients, Emma decided—with the help of her amazingly supportive husband—to use the creative side of her brain and let her characters come to the page.
If she’s not writing, Emma can be found at the gym, one of her kids sporting events, Starbucks, or a live music event.
A perfect day for Emma would be spent at her lake house with her husband, two ginger-haired children, and Vizsla, reading a book and drinking a large cup of coffee (or wine) with music playing in the background.
The Love You Have
Tarina Deaton
The Love You Have Copyright © 2018 by Tarina Deaton
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All rights reserved.
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotes in a book review.
The Love You Have
Kate and Ian Tillerman married young under less than ideal circumstances. Kate wanted her ten-year reunion weekend to be the honeymoon they never had. Ian wanted…to go fishing. Claiming he ‘forgot’, he bails on the reunion—and Kate.
At the reunion Kate has a run-in with “The Bitches”, who take purposeful glee in sharing an earth-shattering revelation with another class alumni. The perfect weekend Kate hoped for may end up heralding the disastrous end to her marriage and family.
1
Kate tossed the onions into the hot pan and stirred them around before checking the recipe for the next step. The garage door opened, and she glanced over her shoulder as her husband, Ian, walked through.
“Hey,” she said. “Dinner should be ready in about forty-five minutes.”
“Okay. Do you know where my fishing gear is?”
“Top shelf in the garage. Why?”
“Fishing trip this weekend with the guys.” He opened the fridge and pulled out a beer.
Kate turned to face him. “The reunion is this weekend.”
“That’s next month,” he said.
“No. It’s this month.”
“When did it change?” he asked, tossing the beer cap into the garbage.
“It’s never changed. It’s always been this weekend.”
He took a sip of beer. “I told the guys I’d go fishing.”
“And you told me you’d go to the reunion with me. This has been on the calendar since we got the invite.”
“I never look at the calendar.”
“I know. Which is why you’re always missing things.”
He rolled his eyes. “This again?”
She brushed a few long strands of hair away from her face. “When you bring up not looking at the calendar then yes, this again.”
Kate crossed, and then uncrossed her arms, remembering her therapist’s advice about confrontational body positions and trying to be more physically open.
“It was one game.” He apparently had no problem taking a confrontational stance as he crossed his arms and legs, then leaned against the counter facing her.
“It was the championship game and he was the MVP.”
“If it was so important, why didn’t you remind me?”
She tried to take a deep breath through her nose without giving it away that she needed to take a deep breath to keep from going off the deep end.
“I did remind you. I didn’t think I needed to remind you more than once about something that involved your son, especially since it was on the calendar.”
“So I don’t love Tommy because I don’t look at the calendar?”
“What the hell, Ian? That is not what I said.”
“That’s what you implied.”
She couldn’t hide her frustration anymore. “I did not imply anything. How do I all of a sudden become the bad guy because you forgot about something we planned months ago?”
“Because I can’t do anything right, right? I forget our son’s baseball game. I forget about some stupid high school reunion to see people you hated and who made your life miserable.”
“Yes. And to see people I am still friends with, haven’t seen in years, and only get to chat with online.”
“Is he going to be there
?”
“Is who going to be there?”
“Tommy’s father.”
She sucked in a breath through her teeth. Never, not once in the nine years they’d been married, had he ever said something so hurtful.
“Funny. I thought Tommy’s father was standing in this kitchen with me.”
He had the grace to look ashamed but doubled down on whatever crap was going through his head. “Well, you know, I figured it would be a perfect opportunity to drop that bombshell on him.”
“I haven’t spoken to him in ten years. Why would I start now?”
“I don’t know. To see what you missed out on.”
“With what?”
“With him and the life you could’ve had.”
“What’s wrong with the life I have now?”
They’d been bickering a lot lately, specifically over him not being as present in their lives as she thought he should be, but she had no idea where this was coming from. He’d come back from the last deployment more distant than before. There was always an adjustment period, but this one seemed to be taking longer. As if he resented her wanting to spend time with him and have their family together again.
The anger and fight drained out of her. She was tired. Tired of the fighting. Tired of the arguing. Just…tired.
She shook her head. “Forget it. Go fishing.”
He seemed shocked. “You’re going to go by yourself?”
“Yes. If you don’t want to go, I’m not going to force you.”
She turned back to the stove and the now crispy onions. His stare was a physical pressure in the middle of her back, but she refused to turn around.
The garage door slammed, and she flinched, brushing away the tear that leaked from the corner of her eye.
