Tears roll down my face, even though I’m packed in a train with thirty other people. Because we’re back to the beginning. Topher’s family will take care of him. Not me. His brother. My sister. The guys in the band. But not me. Because I left him.
And I’m already regretting it with everything in me.
* * *
The saying “time heals all wounds” is one of the most misinformed views I’ve ever heard. It’s been three weeks since I left L.A. and I don’t feel one iota more healed today than I did when I walked off that plane.
Margo calls every couple of days to check on me, and honestly I’ve been lying to her the whole time. Telling her everything’s fine and that I’m busy studying. And I have been studying—or at least trying to. But it’s pretty tough to do when you can’t stop crying.
I look like hell, and if I didn’t know it already my two best friends in vet school are happy to tell me so.
“Seriously,” Jane says as we sit in the Starbucks next door to school while we’re supposed to be going over feline drug interactions for our qualifying exams. “I think you’ve lost ten pounds. You have to eat something, Rach.”
“I eat,” I mumble.
“Corn chips and entire bottles of wine don’t count,” Lynette chastises.
I don’t answer her, adjusting my chair at the long wood table that we share with a half dozen other vet students and animal hospital workers. Instead, I keep scrolling through the study guide that’s on my laptop screen but I don’t really see.
“Hey,” Jane puts a hand on my arm to grab my attention, “this has gone on too long. You need to do something.”
“Like what?” I ask, sucking in a deep breath so I won’t start crying again.
“Go see him,” Lynette says, throwing her hands up in the air. “I don’t know why you decided there was no way for it to work long distance, but you owe it to yourself and to him to at least have a discussion about it.”
I shake my head. “You don’t understand. Topher’s not the kind of guy…it’s sort of all or nothing with him. He wouldn’t have agreed to being apart so much, and he needs to be where his family is.”
“So why can’t you move there?” Jane asks gently. “Your sister’s there, he’s there. It’s closer to your parents.”
I look at both of them and they’re staring at me as if they’d just asked something logical.
“Seriously?” I gesture at all of our books. “Are you really asking me that? Did you forget why we’re all here? I can’t move the entire Colorado State University Vet School to L.A.”
They look at each other and I can tell they’re saying all sorts of things about how crazy I am with their eyes.
“Sweetie?” Jane says. “You don’t need to. There’s a vet school right in L.A. Haven’t you ever heard of transferring?”
I stare at them. “In L.A.?” My heart races.
“Yeah. Crazy, isn’t it?” Lynette shakes her head.
“But I go to school here…”
“If you keep on like this you won’t be in a few months. You’re never going to make it through qualifying exams when you’re this distracted.”
Lynette’s right. I’m a mess, and I can barely function.
I wipe under my eyes, but since I haven’t bothered putting on makeup in a very long time I don’t need to worry about smearing mascara.
“What if he’s done with me. I left…without telling him.”
“If he’s anywhere near as twisted up over you as you are over him he’ll forgive you,” Jane says. “And if he doesn’t, you’ll still get your degree, your sister will be there with you. It’s not such a terrible choice.”
Ideas and fears and ‘what ifs’ rush around in my head. But something else is there as well—hope. And it’s the first time I’ve felt that in weeks.
“I’ll think about it,” I tell them. I nod my head firmly. “Yeah, I’m going to look into it.”
“Good girl,” Lynette says as they go back to their laptops and start quizzing each other. I stare at my screen for a while, their voices providing a background hum to my chaotic thoughts. Then I pull out my phone and open up the last text I had from him. I look at the one word, Why? until my vision blurs and I lock the screen, put the phone away and open a new browser window on my laptop. I type in Veterinary school Los Angeles, and then I click.
Topher
My dreams are back. Ever since Rachel left I dream every night. And in my dreams I feel. I feel so much I wake up sweating, tears on my face. It’s like after my dad’s death. There are a lot of things that weave through those dreams, but as soon as I’m awake it all vanishes. Smoke in the wind. Last night I dreamed that Rachel came back to me, and it hurt and it was beautiful all at once.
In my dreams my mom talks to me, about Carson, about Rachel, about my dad. In my dreams I feel happiness, sadness, fear, anger, and a lot of times, I make love to Rachel. I know now that’s what we did. We had sex, but it was more, and that difference mattered. That difference is why part of me wants to hate her for leaving. Because I showed her everything inside me and she didn’t want it.
I told Carson how when I was with Rachel the dreams stopped. Then I told him that I think it’s because when Rachel was here I felt all the things in real life. Before her and after her I can’t feel them like I should, so I feel them in my dreams instead. I also told him that she said my dreams were just a different kind of room that I go to like other people would go to their bedroom if they were sad or angry. He liked that idea. I do too. I sort of wish Rachel wasn’t the one who thought of it though. I want to stay mad at her, but I’m having a hard time remembering that.
This morning I wake up and I’m not crying, but I have a strange feeling in my gut and a tingling sensation in my arms and legs. I hope I’m not getting sick. I hate being sick.
I sit up on the edge of the bed and Sebastian sticks his nose in my face, licking me with his long tongue, while Carlos dances around on the bed next to me.
“You guys need to pee?” I ask, petting them each on the head. I have to pet them both at once or they go crazy.
I grab a t-shirt out of my dresser and put it on with my sweats, slide my feet into a pair of flip flops then head downstairs to the kitchen where I grab both of their leashes. We go on a walk around the block, Carlos stopping to piss on every single bush and tree along the way. When we get back Carson is in the kitchen making coffee, his hair a jumbled mess and his chest bare.
“Hey,” he grunts at me.
“Hey,” I say as I dump food into the dogs’ bowls. Sebastian shoves his face in Carson’s crotch before he devours his breakfast and Carson just scratches him on the head. He’s so used to it he doesn’t even notice anymore.
We both grab bowls and cereal and coffee and sit at the table. We have a bartop, a kitchen table and a dining room. It’s stupid for two guys who mostly eat takeout in front of the television.
In between mouthfuls of Fruity Pebbles Carson says, “We need to decide what to do about Mom’s house.”
I look at him. I know what I wanted to do with Mom’s house, but he doesn’t realize I had plans for the property.
“I check on it every few days. Why can’t we just wait for a while?”
He sits back, holding his coffee cup in between his hands. “What’s the point? I mean, neither of us is going to move out there, and eventually the place is going to start having maintenance issues or get broken into.”
“I wanted to move out there,” I mutter.
“What?” He looks at me sharply.
“I wanted to move there.”
“You do?”
“I did.”
His brow is wrinkled that way it gets when he doesn’t understand something, not the way it does when he’s going to yell about something.
“Why?”
I sigh. This is probably one of those things that I shouldn’t have been thinking, and shouldn’t say. I brace myself to have him tell me it’s not appropriate.
“I
wanted to move there with Rachel so she could open the animal rescue place she’s always wanted.”
Carson stares at me for a moment, then he covers his face with his hand. I was right, I screwed up again.
“Wow, dude. I don’t know shit about romance, but that’s about the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”
I nod. Okay. Romantic is those things they do in movies like run after someone in an airport and ask them to stay forever. So, I guess it’s like that? I just wanted to live with Rachel and make her happy, but maybe that’s romantic?
“Did she know?” he asks.
“No. I never told her. I was going to but…”
“Fuck, Topher.” He sighs, but it doesn’t seem like the kind when he’s impatient with me. “Maybe we did this all wrong,” he mutters.
“Did what all wrong?” I ask.
He stands and carries his empty dishes to the sink before facing me, leaning his back against the counter.
“When Rachel told Margo that she didn’t see a way for you guys to work things out because she was afraid you’d quit the band and move to Colorado just to be with her, Margo told her she was right.”
He rubs a hand across his face again. I watch, waiting. But that feeling in my gut that I woke up with is back.
“Margo told her to leave without talking to you first, and when Margo called me to say what was going on I agreed. We told Rachel she should just go and we would take care of you.” He pauses and when he looks at me, his eyes are like they were the day Rachel left. “Because we’ve always taken care of you and that’s all we know to do.”
My face is hot and my hands clench into fists. “I don’t need to be taken care of,” I tell him, my voice scratchy.
He walks over and sits in the chair next to mine. “I think I’m starting to understand that.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “I think I made a classic older brother mistake and forgot that you’re a grown-ass man now and you don’t need me or Margo or anyone else running interference in your love life. You had a plan to have her live here with you. I assumed you didn’t have any idea what you were getting into, and really, you had a better idea than any of us could know, including Rachel it sounds like.”
I nod. Because I did. I had a plan to use Mom’s house for Rachel’s animal shelter, and live there with her. I had a plan to ask her to marry me when she said it was time, and if she wanted to have a baby I know I could learn to take care of one. I would read everything about them and talk to my therapist about how to be a good father. My dad was a really good dad, and I know I could be like him if I tried. I had a lot of plans, and if Rachel hadn’t left I would have told her about them.
“I don’t know if it would have changed things, but you deserved the chance to talk to her about all of it, and Margo and I were wrong to interfere. We should have told her she needed to talk to you. The relationship was between you and her. We had no business in the middle of it.”
I nod. That feeling in my gut is still there, and I’m not sure what to do about it.
“Can you forgive me, buddy?” he asks.
“I still want to talk to her,” I say quietly, ignoring his request for now. “I still want to see her again. It didn’t go away.”
“Then you do what you have to, bro. I’ll be here if you need me.”
I give him a sharp nod, then pick up Carlos and hold him on my lap while I pet him. “Okay.” But I won’t need him. I only need Rachel, and now I’ll make a plan to get her to come back.
* * *
I don’t like airplanes. When the band flies Shannon always charters us flights and it’s better because I don’t have to sit so close to a bunch of strangers. I don’t have time for that now, so I’ll have to fly commercial and manage it. But I don’t want Carson to know that I’m anxious, so I just write him a note telling him what I’m doing and leave the house while he’s out clubbing with Blaze and Tully a few nights after our talk.
But, I did call my therapist earlier today. She gave me a prescription for some medicine that helps me stay calm, so I take a pill before I walk into the airport, and I remember to breathe deep. Two hours later I’m sitting in a first-class seat on the aisle where I don’t feel quite so trapped. I probably should have taken two of the pills, but I don’t want to be so tired when I get there. I’m tense but in control.
It’s a fast ninety-minute flight and as we come into Denver I look at the snow-capped Rocky Mountains that run along one edge of the city. The last time I was in Denver it was to play at an outdoor music fest. We drove in a bus and spent all day in the hot sun then left. I don’t remember much about the mountains. They’re amazing, but not as amazing as the ocean.
After we land I make my way through the airport to the main entrance where I take a shuttle to the rental car place. I’ve never rented a car by myself, but I read that the Denver airport is about an hour from where Rachel lives in Fort Collins, so I knew I’d need a car.
The girl at the rental car place keeps blinking her eyes at me fast like groupies do sometimes. I don’t think she recognizes me from the band though. She hasn’t said that. I’m the bass player, no one ever recognizes me unless it’s at a concert.
“So, do you need any help finding your way to Fort Collins?” she asks. “My shift ends in an hour. I’d be more than happy to help you get up there. We could even make a night of it—get drinks along the way?”
“No. Thank you,” I tell her.
Her eyes quit blinking so fast and she shoves the keys at me.
“Toyota Camry. Third car in row B.”
“Thank you,” I answer.
After I put my bag into the trunk I get in the car and adjust the mirrors and seat. I like to have the car set up a certain way, and this is different from my car, so it takes me a few minutes to make the adjustments. I still like my car better. When it’s as good as I can get it I put the address Margo gave me into the GPS. I’m on my way to Rachel’s apartment and I’m going to show her that I have plans too. No one thought I knew what I was doing when I fell in love with Rachel, but I’m going to prove to them all that I can do everything she wants. I can make her happier than she’s ever been.
Rachel
I have my earbuds in as I’m cleaning the apartment, so I’m not sure how long whoever’s knocking has been outside my door, but it finally gets loud enough that I hear it over the music. I yank the earbuds out and put the broom down, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear before I go and look out the peephole.
And there stands a guy that I’d swear is Topher. My heart races and my hands start shaking. I blink. It still looks like him. Then he pounds again, startling me. I jump and yelp.
“Rachel?” he calls through the door.
I take a deep breath and turn the deadbolt before twisting the handle and opening the door.
And there he is—the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. He’s had a haircut since I last saw him, and he might have lost a few pounds too, his cheekbones cut even sharper than normal. But his green eyes are just as brilliant and his lips just as delicious as ever.
“Topher?” I say, sounding so breathy it’s almost a sigh rather than words.
“Hi,” he says, his brow furrowed.
“What are you doing here?”
He takes a step closer to me and I see his hand come up as if he’s going to touch me before he lowers it to his side. “I need to talk to you.”
“Um, okay.” I pull the door open the rest of the way and he strides in. I notice that he has a duffle bag in his hand. He sets it down in my entryway and then takes a few more steps inside. I close the door and follow him.
“Do you want something to drink?” I ask, trying to hide my shaking hands from him by shoving them in the pockets of my hoodie. I realize then as I look down at myself that I have no makeup on, haven’t washed my hair in two days and am wearing my oldest pair of leggings and a CSU hoodie with bleach stains on it. Way to go, Rachel.
“No, thank you,” Topher says, watching me warily. “I
have things to tell you.”
I gesture to the sofa as I take a seat on one end. He sits next to me. Not too close, but close enough that I can smell him and it makes me want to fall into him and just breathe for a few moments.
“You came a long way to talk,” I say.
“You wouldn’t answer my texts.”
True.
I give him a small smile. “I’m sorry. About the way I left. I’ve regretted it every day since. I should have talked to you before I left. It was selfish, it was…wrong.”
I feel tears start to burn behind my eyes, but I give him another smile no matter how watery, trying to be brave. Meanwhile, my insides are scrambling as I try to puzzle out what he might be here to tell me. Maybe just that I’m an asshole, which frankly he deserves the chance to say to my face. I wouldn’t blame him in the slightest.
“You should have talked to me before you left,” he agrees. “But Carson and Margo shouldn’t have helped you leave either.”
I swallow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Topher mad, but it’s pretty clear he is now.
“I’m not good at saying things,” he tells me, and my heart jumps, all pain and guilt. “I don’t know how to tell what other people are thinking or feeling. I don’t know when is the right time to say certain things, and I only know how to say the truth.”
A tear escapes down my cheek and I can’t stop myself from reaching out and touching his hand.
“Maybe I should have said something different to you when you were in L.A.” He watches as he turns his hand over, placing his palm against mine. Then he curls our fingers together.
“Topher, you said everything perfectly. It was me. I panicked. I couldn’t see an easy way for us to be together and so I just ran away. It was awful. I was awful.”
More tears fall down my face, and he reaches over and wipes a few of them away, watching me so seriously.
“I have ideas. Plans. For how we can be together. I thought about it all. I know I may not say it right, but I do think about it. I understand what it means—to be in love. I may not show it the way normal people do, but I understand it. In my dreams, and in here.” He puts a fist over his heart and I break, sobbing uncontrollably.
Dreaming of Rhapsody Page 9
