by Gia Riley
“It’s fine,” I assure her. This needs to be said to him as much as it needed to be said to her. Hopefully it will help them figure their relationship out.
She faces Troy to deliver my news. “Kipton is asking Sophie to marry him.” She barely gets the full sentence out without breaking. Troy can see the pain in her eyes as easily as I can. It’s gotta make him feel like complete shit knowing his girl is struggling over another guy. In fact, I’d probably lose my mind right here in the grass. But Troy takes it all in, and despite the look of relief in his eye, he knows how much Alisa is bothered by it.
“Congrats, Kip.” Troy reaches over to shake my hand, nodding his head in approval. “That’s great news.” For him.
Alisa obviously doesn’t agree when she stands up quickly, brushing the dirt off the back of her shorts. “I have to use the ladies room.”
Without waiting for either of us to respond, she turns toward the high school with her head down. Even though I’ve moved on, I still don’t like to see her hurting. Some guys would use the proposal as a slap in the face for what she did. I only pulled it out so she could work on finding her own happiness.
Troy wipes his mouth on his napkin before tossing it on top of his plate. “I should probably go after her,” he says.
“She’ll be okay.” Alisa is tough. When she’s down, she doesn’t stay that way for long.
“She still hung up on you. It’s been a roadblock in our relationship from the start.”
“She admitted as much before you came over.” Maybe I should have kept that between the two of us, but Troy won’t get anywhere with her unless he knows how she feels.
“I started talking to Alisa a few months before you both graduated college. She was excited to come home and spend the summer together. Everything was going great until she found out you took the job here and would be moving back to town. Then, it started going downhill.”
“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble for you. Not once have I given her any reason to believe we would get back together.”
“I know you haven’t. You moved on with Sophie. Maybe now that she knows your plans, we can get somewhere. I’m actually glad you told her.” Troy stares off into the distance, and then he asks the question I’ve been waiting for. The one everyone whispers about, but never has the balls to come out and ask. “Is it true? She cheated on you?”
I’m not digging either of us into a hole. Not until I find out how much he already knows. What we went through is ours, nobody else’s. “Did she tell you that?”
“In a roundabout way. I think she assumes if she tells me the whole truth, I won’t want her. Or that I think she’ll do it again.”
“It’s the truth. At the time it fucked my head up, but it ended up being a blessing in disguise.”
“It’s a win, win right?”
We both get the girl we want.
“That it is.” I stand up to stretch my stiff legs. I’m cramping up from sitting on the ground so long. “I better go talk to some people before I head out. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
“See ya.”
After tossing my trash in the garbage can, I make my rounds to thank the parents for the meal. Most of them remember me from my high school days. The ones I’m meeting for the first time are equally as warm with their reception. I even get caught up in a little sports talk before I head to the parking lot.
I’m almost at my car when I notice Alisa leaning against the building with her arms crossed protectively over her chest. She’s crying. My first reaction is to go to her considering I’m the one who put that look on her face in the first place, but Troy walks out of the lobby with his gym bag slung over his shoulder, spotting her too. He pauses, most likely unsure of how to handle his girlfriend crying over her ex. I give him credit for sticking around.
It’s wild the way the universe works. Before Sophie, the sight of Alisa crying would have had me caving. But she isn’t mine anymore. Sophie’s tears are the only ones I want to dry.
If she hurts, I hurt. It’s that simple.
“WHY ARE YOU HIDING IN your closet?” Blaine asks as he crouches down next to the door. I’m in the back corner hugging my teddy bear like a five-year-old in need of comfort from her favorite imaginary friend. The last thing I want Blaine to see is weakness. He’s so strong, everything I wish I could be when it comes to my own family. But lately, I’ve experienced his darker side. His strength is no longer a comfort.
“Dad brought someone home from the bar again. They were arguing—he threatened her.” My whole body shakes as I recount the last two hours of my life. Dad has said some terrible things to her, but I’ve never seen him harm her physically. So when I saw him raise his fist, I ran. I couldn’t stand to watch.
Blaine holds out his hand in front of me. I’m slow to accept it, wanting to stay in the only safety net I have left. He used to be that for me, but not anymore. Little by little, I see more of my dad in him, and less of the sweet guy who has been my best friend. I’ve become an object he can boss around as I slowly lose the girl I’m desperately fighting to hold on to.
“Take my hand, Sophie. You want to make me happy don’t you?”
“Yes,” I whisper, because the consequences of disagreeing with Blaine are far worse. I found out the hard way the first time I told him no. The bruises that one simple word left behind hurt so much more than lying. There’s no way to right that kind of wrong. No matter how many times I purge, it’s never enough.
“I’ll always win, Sophie.”
“I know.”
“You can’t hide from me. I’ll always find you.” Blaine is nose to nose with me, his breath warm against my skin. As his warning penetrates my soul, his hands wrap around the back of my neck. Squeezing tighter and tighter, the light in the room disappears as everything fades to black.
“Please don’t hurt me,” I beg. But he can’t hear my words. All he sees is revenge, and there’s no stopping him until he gets it.
“Sophie! Wake up!” Cara begs from the side of my bed.
I struggle against Blaine to make it back to her. Finally, breaking free from his hold, I open my eyes in a panic. I sit up in bed, clutching the blankets around my body. My notebook falls onto the floor, and my textbook closes with my pen still stuck in between the pages. “He had me, Cara.”
“Nobody has you. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
I realize that now, but it was so real. I could feel him on me. This is the second time since Kipton went back home she’s woken me from a nightmare. Since being released from the hospital, they’ve returned every time I close my eyes. Sleep’s been impossible. “I must have dozed off while I was studying.”
“Do you want to talk about it, Sophie?”
I shake my head that I don’t, but before I have a chance to reassure her that I’ll be okay, my phone rings. I check the caller ID before I decide if I want to answer it or not. This time, I have no choice. “I have to take this. It’s my dad.”
“Okay.” Reluctantly, she leaves my room without asking any more questions.
“Hi, Dad.”
“What are you up to?”
“I fell asleep studying, but I’m awake now.” Thanks to Blaine. “How’s your day?”
He exhales into the receiver, and I know I’m not going to like what he’s about to say to me. “Sophie, there’s no easy way to prepare you for this, so I’m just going to say it. Dean passed away about an hour ago.”
He’s gone. I can’t form a single coherent thought. Like the dream I was having, memories rush back to me—the good ones, the bad, and even the ugly. Dean’s really dead.
“Beauty, are you okay?”
I honestly don’t know how to answer that, so I don’t. I want to brush this news off like it’s no big deal, but it’s a huge deal. I thought I was prepared for this phone call to happen, I even knew to expect it soon, but it doesn’t make this any easier. “How’s Mom?”
“She’s hanging in there. I’ve been with her since yest
erday when you were discharged. We never got to leave.”
Maybe I should go to Mom to make sure she’s okay, but in my heart I know today isn’t the day to try to mend our relationship. Today is a day for her to let go—to find closure of her own. In time, I really believe we’ll find our way back to each other—that our pain can be healed and our differences mended now that Dean is out of our lives.
Not a day has gone by where I didn’t need her love despite having walked out on her. I only left to save myself, and to salvage the little bit of strength I had left inside before I lost it entirely. I was sick enough to know if I had stayed another day, I might have been permanently destroyed.
“I’m glad you’re with her. She needs you, Dad.”
“I don’t know how much of a help I’m being, but she’s your mother. I couldn’t leave her to do this alone.” I hear the tiredness in his voice, but I can’t deny the resolve either. His nemesis can no longer hold him back from what he’s always wanted. Given the circumstances over the past twenty years, not many men would have stuck around to pick up the pieces.
While I’m thankful they have each other to lean on, I still have no idea what the future holds for them. They have so much lost time to make up for, and if anyone deserves a second chance, it’s them. They’ve fought through some of the hardest battles imaginable—now it’s time to live.
Now, when I’m on the verge of rediscovering my own heartbreaks, I can let go of the life I had in Dean’s home. I’ll get through this one battle at a time. Today I conquer Dean’s memory. Tomorrow I focus on Blaine, but he made a promise to me—that I could never hide from him.
“We’ll be here a little while longer. She had some calls to make regarding the arrangements. They need to know where to transport Dean’s body.”
“Will you tell Mom I asked about her?”
“Only if you want me to, beauty.”
“It’s okay if you do.” I may not be ready to approach her on my own, but for whatever it’s worth, I want her to know I care.
He pauses for a minute before asking, “You’ll be okay?”
“I’ll be fine.”
I hope.
As soon as the call ends, my eyes land on the trashcan. It’s tempting to run to it, but I’m not ready to surrender. Instead, I dig in my desk drawer for my journal. Desperate to get the thoughts out of me, I use my teeth to rip off the cap on my pen. And in the corner of my bedroom, I furiously write. I write out every single word that needs to be expelled from my mind. In typical fashion, none of what I’m spewing has rhyme or reason—it simply exists.
Over.
Gone.
Done.
No more pain.
No more hurt.
You’ve been silenced.
I will make it.
You do not control me.
Fight harder.
End the pain.
By the time I reach the end of the first page, I’m pressing so hard the point on my pen breaks off. Black ink leaks from the plastic cartridge all over my piece of paper. It’s like death taking hold of my words. I can’t silence them any more than I can stop the ink from spreading.
Dragging my nail through the ink, I write two final words.
It’s over.
It’s really fucking over. My shoulders shake as sobs rack my body. With black ink covering my hands I stare down the closet door. It’s safe in there. It’s quiet. It’s dark. And it’s mine.
Before I have a chance to move inside, my bedroom door opens. “Get out,” I bark. Sitting here in the corner of my room, I feel more exposed than I ever have. I don’t want anyone to look at me.
“Sophie,” Cara says, as she panics from the sight of the mess.
“I want to be alone.”
She glances at the words on my destroyed journal page. To her they must look insane. To me, it’s peace of mind. “What are you doing?” She asks with worry written all over her face.
“Dean’s dead, Cara. He’s gone.”
In shock, she covers her mouth with her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“It is what it is. I need to wash my hands.” The ink probably won’t come off, but I still have enough bruises on my body for it to blend in.
“How can you be so dismissive about this?”
She wouldn’t have said that if she came in five minutes ago. “I’m not.” I try to stand up, so I can put some distance in between the two of us, but my legs are still shaky from the anxiety attack. Instead of forcing it, I wait it out on the floor.
“What’s that?” I gesture to the bright red rose Cara’s holding in her hand.
She holds it in front of her, handing it to me. “It’s for you.”
I cover the stem in ink as I bring the beautiful flower to my nose, inhaling its sweet scent. “Why did you get me a rose?”
Cara laughs as she pulls a piece of paper out of her pocket. “It’s not from me. It’s from Kipton. He’s the romantic one.”
“Let me wash this ink off.” I’m finally able to stand up to get to the bathroom. Cara follows closely behind me. “Nobody’s ever given me flowers before except my dad.”
“Nobody?”
“Nope.”
“I usually kill flowers before they even bloom. I couldn’t even make the grass grow in a Styrofoam cup when I was in elementary school. All the kids took home pretty grass to their mom for Mother’s Day. You know what I gave her? Dead weeds. Nothing says “I love you, Mom,” like brown dirt.”
“Your mom would be happy with anything you gave her—even dirt. Mine had a small garden in the back yard. It was one of the only places I ever felt peace.”
“Where was the other?” Cara questions.
“On the roof outside my bedroom window. I’d sit out there at night and make wishes on the stars.”
“Did any of them come true?”
“I have Kipton. And I have you, and my Dad.”
She smiles genuinely. “I’d say someone was listening.”
I dry my hands on the towel, thankful a lot of the ink either came off or faded from the soap. Now that I can touch it, I take the note from Cara. Before I open it, I figure it’s bad news. I’m not sure I can take much more of that. “How did you get this stuff?”
“He dropped it off,” she says coyly.
“He did?” I ask surprised. “Where did he go?” I glance at the clock, surprised to see it’s only five o’clock. It feels later since I fell asleep.
“I have no idea. He told me to give it to you. There are instructions inside.”
“This makes no sense. I wasn’t expecting him until tomorrow morning.” I set my rose on the bed next to me before unfolding the paper. It’s in Kipton’s handwriting.
“The wrestling house?” I look to Cara for an explanation. “Why would he want me to meet him there?” I was hoping we would have some time alone, just the two of us.
“I don’t know any more than you do. Now get your ass up, woman.”
“He really didn’t tell you anything?”
“He knows I have a big mouth, Sophie. He didn’t tell me a single detail.”
I grab my towel hanging on the back of my closet door before she shoves me in the bathroom. “I’m going!” And then it hits me. It wouldn’t surprise me if Dad called him and told him about Dean. Kipton being the supportive boyfriend that he is, left early to come take care of me. This is nothing more than a pity date.
“Did you hear a word I just said, Sophie?”
“I’m sorry. What were you saying?”
“Oh good grief, I was just giving you some tips for tonight,” she says, as she follows me into the bathroom.
I roll my eyes. “Tips? I assume of a sexual nature.”
“Obviously.”
“Cara, I almost miss the times you were weirded out by my relationship with your brother.” Back when I had some privacy.
“Hush it. I know what I’m talking about. You never hear Drew complaining do you?”
“Not about that. These walls,”
I point to the wall separating our rooms. “Not that thick.”
“I apologize. It’s so hard to be quiet. Especially when he rolls his hips, and–”
I toss my towel over my head and wave my hand in the air. “No. I’m good. I don’t want to know.” Some things are better left a mystery.
Cara yanks the towel from my head, tossing it at me. “Okay, but if you ever want to spice things up, I’ve got moves you’ve never seen.”
“Oh dear lord,” I grumble. “I’ll be in the shower.”
“Holler if you need anything.” Cara skips out of my room, shutting the door behind her. Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that head of hers. Then again, I’m not sure I could handle it.
I end up spending more time than usual under the hot spray of water. Letting the spray run over my tense muscles, I do my best to relax after the stress of the last hour. Kipton may only be here because Dad asked him to come, but I don’t care. He slows my thoughts down, especially on days like today when I’m plagued with bad news and nightmares.
Wrapped in my towel, I stare at my closet full of clothes. With no idea as to where we are going, I put on my favorite pair of jeans with a simple pale pink T-shirt. It’s still warm enough outside that I won’t freeze. Not that I don’t have Kipton to keep me warm.
“Cara,” I yell as I leave my bedroom.
“Yeah, hooker?”
I laugh at the goofy expression on her face as she stares at me. “Would it kill you to use my name from time to time?”
She rests her pink painted fingernail against her lip, pretending to be deep in thought. “Yeah, won’t work for me. So deal.”
“Noted. Anyway, I’m leaving. Can you put my flower in some water without killing it?”
“Sure, but I can’t make any promises it’ll still be alive by the time you get home. Oh, and if you two want to come back here and get naked, just give us some warning. We can get lost for a while.”
“Thanks, but I think Kipton has something else planned.” At least I hope he does. I’m more than okay with not seeing my bedroom for the rest of the night. The nightmares have consumed me enough for one day.
