Changing Forever

by Lisa De Jong

  “Damn it!” he shouts, taking his seat again. “Tess must’ve answered it. I’ve told her a hundred times to leave my phone alone.”

  “Maybe I should have tried again, but I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. I just couldn’t do it, Drake.”

  He leans forward in his chair, burying his head in his hands. “I’m sorry.” His fingers grip his hair, pulling it away from his scalp almost painfully so. “I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?” I ask, throwing my hands in the air. “Are you sorry for pushing me away in the hospital? Are you sorry for telling me your injury was my fault? Or are you sorry because you thought I slept with someone else right after you broke my heart? What exactly are you sorry for, Drake?”

  He lifts his head, but it’s hard to see his expression under the pale moonlight. “All the above. I’m also sorry I wasn’t there with you when you found out. I’m sorry I didn’t get to go to your first doctor’s appointment. I’m sorry that what we did together sent you back here.”

  He pauses, glaring up at the stars. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you, too, because I do, Em. I love you so much that everything I did to you hurts like hell. Deep down in my chest, Em, I feel it.”

  Leaning forward, I mimic his position from before, pressing my forehead to my palms. I don’t want to look at him. I’m slipping. Falling. Deeper. “The things you said in the hospital … I will never forget them. Why would you say those things if you loved me? Please, help me understand.”

  Before I realize what’s going on, he’s kneeling in front of me, lifting my chin with his fingers. “Look at me. Please.”

  I comply, tears pooling. His voice has never been more sincere, gentler. It’s wrapping itself around my heart, and all I can do is listen.

  “That morning, in the hospital, I heard the nurses talking about me. About how I may never walk again, and I couldn’t put you through that. I knew you’d stay with me, but I also knew your dreams. If you were with me, you would have had to choose, so I chose for you.”

  “Drake,” I say, biting the inside of my cheeks to keep my emotions locked up. I’ve shed too many tears over this. So many nights spent laying in my room listening to the saddest fucking slow songs I could find while staring into space. “Look where I am right now!” I yell, throwing my arms in the air again.

  His face moves closer to mine, his breath hitting my lips. “I said I’m sorry.”

  “You made me feel hated. You made me feel stupid. No one has ever made me feel that way … not even my mom.”

  He grabs my face in his hands. “I knew the only way you’d leave is if I made you hate me. I thought it was the only way. Don’t you get it?”

  “No,” I cry, shaking my head. “I don’t get it. I could never hurt someone like that, especially if I loved them.”

  Gripping my face tighter, the dim light hits his face at just the right angle. Unshed tears glisten in his eyes, and the path of a fallen one shows on his cheek. “It’s a fucked up form of love, but it’s the one I know. I’ve spent years protecting my mom and my sisters … I thought I was loving you by giving you what you wanted. I didn’t want to stand in your way.”

  “Did you ever stop and think that maybe it was you I wanted?”

  He shakes his head slowly. “I couldn’t see a reason for you to love me enough to give everything up. Football has always defined me, and I don’t have that anymore.”

  “So what’s different now?” I whisper, entranced in every word he says.

  “I’ve had time to think about what’s important to me. Football was important to my dad. It was his dream, and you know what? After they told me I probably wouldn’t be able to play again, I was torn up, but it didn’t have anything to do with the game. It was always you. I’ve missed you so much.”

  I want to wrap my hands around every word he says, but there’s this wall that won’t come down. I can’t quite reach over.

  “Why are you here now? After all these months?” I ask, gripping his wrists. I try to pull his hands away from my face, but either his hold is too strong, or I don’t really want him to let go.

  “I finally feel like I deserve you,” he whispers.

  Those words clamp my heart. Tight. Squeezing. I hope that I didn’t do anything to make him feel undeserving before. He was good enough to make me forget about all my dreams for a while. If he only knew it takes a special person to do that.

  “I broke all my rules for you. That should tell you something.”

  He sweeps his thumb across my cheek. “I see that now,” he says, looking down at my round stomach.

  “So what do you want exactly?”

  He lets go of me, sitting back on his heels to grab something from his back pocket. When he kneels in front of me again, a small dark box sits in the center of his hand.

  Pinching my eyes closed, I take a deep breath. This is too much. I can’t handle such a swing of emotions in one evening. Ten minutes ago I was pissed and annoyed. Five minutes ago, I was confused and hurt. Now, well, now I have no idea what to think.

  He opens the box, and though the contents are hard to see, the sparkle in the center stands out. The pissed and annoyed phase is creeping back … this isn’t how I thought this moment in my life would happen, and I’m not going to accept it.

  “Don’t,” I say, grabbing the box from his hand and snapping it shut. I place it back in his hand and stand, forcing him back. “I can’t do this right now. Not like this.”

  “Emery! Please.”

  Walking toward the door, I try to pretend he’s not even here. He won’t let me. I feel him right behind me as I spin around, intent on making my point known. “If we were meant to be, things wouldn’t be this difficult.”

  I turn back around, but he grabs onto my hand. “I’m not giving up, on you or our baby. I’m going to be here.”

  Looking over my shoulder, I say, “I won’t keep you from our baby, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  He lets go of my hand, running his long fingers through his hair. “Is that all you think I’m worried about?”

  “It’s all that matters anymore.” I take a few quick steps and disappear through the old screen door without a second glance.

  I shut and lock the inside door in case he gets any ideas about following me. When I’m only steps away, there’s more knocking. Without giving it much thought, I turn back around and open the door. I need him to leave, everything that needed to be said has been. “Drake, please.”

  “I forgot to give you something,” he says softly, looking down at me with sad eyes.

  I open my mouth, thinking he’s going to bring up the ring, but he pulls an oversized stuffed frog from behind his back. I’ve always had a thing about the small green creatures, but I’ve never told him that.

  “I saw you eyeing one like this at the fair. I want to prove to you that I can give you what you want so I searched until I found one like it.” He swallows, hesitantly reaching his finger up to brush against my jaw. “I want to give you everything … especially the things that make you smile.”

  “Drake, I—”

  His finger presses to my lips. “Don’t say anything. Just think about it … I’ll wait for you.”

  Before I disappear inside again, he places the frog in my arms, smiling sadly. Maybe I shouldn’t take it, but I don’t want to let it go. “Goodbye, Drake,” I whisper, shutting the door behind me.

  I grab my uneaten bowl of popcorn from the coffee table and dump the whole thing into the garbage. After quickly turning off all the lights, I head upstairs and try to get comfortable in my bed with my new gift tucked under my arm. I don’t want to like it, but I do. It’s soft and smells just like him.

  Closing my eyes, I try to fall to sleep. I’m doing what I do best … blocking everything out and pretending like it never even happened. It’s impossible, though, because all I can think about is Drake.

  I barely slept a wink last night. All I could think about was what he said, the proposa
l he had planned ...

  It was too little too late.

  I think …

  I don’t want to look back at my decision to shut him out and regret it. There’s so much anger inside me overriding the things he said, but there is a faint beat in my heart that’s pushing me to take him back. Especially when he shows up on my doorstep with sad eyes and a stuffed animal. He sees me in a way that no one else ever will.

  He gets me.

  “Emery!” I jump at the sound of my name. It’s my dad. He must have come home early.

  “Yeah, Dad?” I yell back, pulling my robe on.

  “Can you come down here a minute?”

  After tightly securing my robe, I open the door and head down the hall. As I turn the corner to walk downstairs, I see rain pouring down the small window above the landing. That’s why Dad’s home early.

  As I move down the last flight of stairs, I see him standing at the bottom of the stairs with his arm resting on the railing, eyes trained out the front window.

  “Hey, baby, I came home a little early and found a young man sitting against our front door. Said he wasn’t leaving until he talked to you.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out right away. How much has Drake told him, or how much has he figured out on his own?

  “He’s still here?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

  “What do you mean ‘still here’?”

  I rub my hand over my brow, trying to see Drake through the window. “He came last night. He probably never left.”

  “I’m going to tell him to leave. The idiot doesn’t belong here anyway.” He makes his way toward the door.

  “No, don’t. I’ll take care of it.”

  He stops, turning to me again. “Is he the son of a bitch who did this?”

  My head snaps up, my eyes blur. I’ve thought so many times about what it will mean for me to be a mother. I haven’t given much thought to Drake. I nod, rubbing my temples with my fingertips. “Yes. Can you just give me a minute alone with him? I have a few things I need to say.”

  He watches me, more than likely gauging my ability to handle this on my own. I wonder if he’ll ever see me as anything but his little girl. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” he finally replies, walking away before he has any time to second-guess himself.

  I hesitate for a minute, rehearsing what I want to say in my head. I think there’s a small chance that maybe someday we’ll be able to give us another chance. This just isn’t the time, but I want him to be as involved as he wants in the rest of this pregnancy and the baby’s life.

  I unlock the door and pull it open, scanning the front porch for Drake. Like a skydiver without a parachute, I fall.

  He’s gone.

  I’m too late.

  Stepping back inside, I bolt the door shut again, letting myself rest against it.

  Slowly, I slide down to the floor as tears spill from my eyes. I had a second chance, and I took it for granted. At some point last night, I started to forgive Drake because what he was saying made sense.

  And now my own stubborn nature ruined it.

  Using my long cotton sleeves, I wipe the fresh tears from my face, knowing they’ll be replaced with new ones soon. I always thought life would get easier as I got older. I’d have more control over the decisions that affected me, but I was wrong. First, Drake got the best of me, now my emotions.

  This is a life lesson for me. One I’ll never forget. One I may never get over.

  A sound comes from outside on the porch, startling me. I stand, bracing my hands against the wall to peer out the small side window. My breath hitches when I see Drake fumbling with a small bag and two paper cups. He came back, or should I say, he never really left.

  Closing my eyes, I say a silent prayer while I squeeze the metal knob in my hand. When I finally open the door, Drake stands right in front of it with the bag tucked under his chin. I reach forward and grab it as he eyes me carefully. He’s probably wondering what’s going through my head … most of the time, I’m wondering what’s going through it.

  “I brought you breakfast,” he finally says, pointing his finger toward the bag in my hand.

  I nod, unable to speak in fear of completely falling apart.

  “I have coffee, too. I mean, I know you like it so I got decaf for you and the baby,” he says, handing me a cup. I take it from him, unable to hold back the water works anymore. It’s one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever done for me, and the fact that he’s already thinking about our baby does something inside of me.

  “Thank you,” I mouth, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

  He slowly closes the space between us, running the back of his hand along my tear-stained cheek. “Give me another chance, Em. I want to show you how much you mean to me. How much I love you, and how much I want this baby with you … please, let me, Em.”

  I HATE WAITING FOR ANSWERS, and I never stick myself out there like this. When I handed her the frog last night, I felt a bit of hope with the way her eyes lit up. It turned into a false hope, but I don’t regret it. I want her to be with me, but it’s even more important that she’s happy.

  Now, I’m waiting again, staring down at a glint of hope. This could be one of the best days of my life ... or it could be one of the worst. Whatever it ends up being, it’s going to change my life, one way or another.

  “I know I don’t deserve it, but will you give me another chance? I need you, Emery, and more importantly, I want you. You’re the only one I want.”

  Her face contorts as a single tear rolls down her cheek. Slowly, I’m breaking her ... but in a good way this time. In a way that I’m hoping will make both of us happy.

  “I’m not perfect, and I never will be, but I want to be everything you need.”

  I watch her crumble, her hands covering her face. My arms are begging to hold her, to give her the comfort I should have given her the last few months.

  I just wish I knew what she wanted from me.

  “Emery,” I whisper, running my fingertips along her bare forearm.

  She lowers her hands enough that I can see her beautiful brown eyes. I hold my breath and wait for a sign from her. She shakes her head, lowering her finger at me. “If you hurt me like that again—”

  “I won’t,” I say, brushing the back of my fingers across her cheek. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” Her lower lip quivers as her mouth forms a small smile. It’s the first one I’ve seen on her face in a long time.

  It’s progress.

  I smile back, folding her in my arms. She’s my everything. She defines a better me, and I’m going to make sure I do the same for her.

  “Are you okay?” I whisper next to her ear.

  She nods, pressing her forehead to my shoulder. “I didn’t think we’d ever get back to this point.”

  “I give you permission to hit me next time. Yell at me. Whatever you have to do; just don’t ever let me spend another day away from you.”

  She laughs, looking up at me through her long eyelashes. “Can I start now?”

  “I haven’t done anything yet.”

  “Shouldn’t I be allowed to let out all the frustration from the last time so we can start with a clean slate?” she teases, showing an even wider smile.

  I slide my hands to her rounded stomach, rubbing small circles with my palms. “Can I put my old football pads on first? That one might hurt.”

  “Well, I’m pregnant so that works in your favor. I’m not supposed to do anything too strenuous.”

  That painful ping returns to my chest. I hate thinking about her facing this alone. I hate that I put her in a place where she couldn’t even call and talk to me about it. A lot of good days are going to have to come before I feel okay about it.

  The past is something I can’t change.

  “You know I’m going to spend years making these last several months up to you. Consider me wrapped around your finger.”

  Her eyes are
glued to my lips, but she looks nervous. I’ve wanted to kiss her since I saw her last night.

  Cupping her face in my hands, I rub my thumbs along her jawline. “I want to kiss you, Em.”

  She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, the nervous look on her face replaced with mischief. “How much? If you ask nicely, I might let you.”

  I lean in until I’m so close she shuts her eyes. “Did you think I was going to kiss you?”

  Her eyes find mine again. “You’re not being very nice right now.”

  “Let’s try that again then.” Tilting her face, I bring her lips up to mine. For the longest time, I don’t move. I like being able to just feel her warm skin against mine. I never thought I’d be able to do this again. They’re just like I remembered—soft and full—and as I deepen it, pressing my tongue between the seam, I remember how good she tastes.

  There’s nothing about this girl that isn’t perfect for me, and the fact that she’s standing here is a miracle. I’m never going to let myself forget that.

  As I pull back, I kiss the tip of her nose, her cheeks, and the sensitive spot below each ear.

  Looking into her eyes, I say, “We need to talk some more.”

  She nods, nervously biting her lower lip. “Would you be uncomfortable around my dad?”

  After what I did to his daughter, he scares the shit out of me. I have to get over it, though, if we’re going to have a future of any kind. “No, I have enough donuts for everyone.”

  Laughing, she wraps her hand around mine. “Let’s go see how far those will get you with him.”

  My jaw tingles as I follow Emery through the front door. I think everyone is scared to meet the parents, but this is on a whole new level.

  “Don’t worry,” she whispers, looking back over her shoulder. “He’ll like you just fine.”

  All I can think about is how I’d feel if some guy impregnated my daughter the first semester of college then left her to deal with it herself. Emery’s probably not right about her father … deep down inside, I know he wants to kick my ass.

  As we make our way through the small living room, I see him leaning against the counter with a coffee cup in his hand. I convince myself that it won’t be nearly as bad as I think it’s going to be, but then his eyes meet mine.