Why Not Me?

by Ashley Erin

  Brendan brushes my hair aside, kissing me on the cheek before holding me closer as the movie starts. We watch, wrapped in each other’s arms until the toll of the day finally takes me down.

  Stirring as I’m lifted, I blink sleepily up at Brendan as he carries me to our room. Glancing at the clock on my nightstand, I’m surprised to see it’s after midnight. He sets me on my feet and I sleepily change into sweats and a tank top. I can feel Brendan’s eyes rove over me appreciatively as he strips down to his boxers.

  Crawling into bed, I curl up on my side facing away from him. The bed dips as he lays down, his body heat warming my back when he inches closer. Lips trail kisses over my bare shoulders and rather than the tingling of excitement, I resist the urge to pull away.

  “Bren, I’m exhausted and I’m meeting Blake and Dawn at the market early tomorrow morning.” A resigned sigh brushes across my skin as he moves away, lying on his back.

  Closing my eyes with a sad sigh, I reach over and grab his hand. Squeezing it gently in apology, I regulate my breathing until I finally start to doze off.

  It should be Brendan’s face I see behind my eyelids, but it’s Landon’s piercing gaze that taunts me well into sleep.

  “Allie, come and look at this! You should totally buy this for Monique.” Blake waves me over from the booth I’m browsing in. Several people around us look at her with amusement. She’s the more boisterous of my two best friends, comfortable being the center of attention. In fact, she revels at being in the spotlight. She should’ve been an actress.

  Every week the convention center fills with booths. Various vendors renting the space to show their wares. Hundreds of tables with artwork, homemade soaps, fresh baked bread, cupcakes, and anything else you can imagine.

  Crossing the aisle, I grin as I see the object in Blake’s hand. It’s a small wooden jewelry box with Celtic designs intricately carved over its surface. My sister is obsessed with everything Celtic. “This is a perfect Christmas gift. I was at a loss of what to get her this year.”

  Taking the box, I carry it to the vendor and pay what seems like a small amount for something so beautiful. Slipping my hand through the handle of the paper bag that is handed to me, I loop it around my wrist securely as I follow Blake over to the next booth to join Dawn.

  Dawn is bent over some homemade cupcakes, her eyes glazed over as she takes in the various flavors.

  “What happened to cutting back on the baked goods?” My voice is teasing. We all know Dawn will never give up cupcakes, They’re her kryptonite.

  Dawn and Blake are identical twins, but they couldn’t be more different. Blake is outgoing, a physical education teacher who also teaches drama. Dawn is more reserved. She’s quiet and enjoys listening more than talking, which is why it’s surprising that she’s one of the top real estate agents in the city. I think it’s because she has amazing intuition, she can read between the lines of what people say to her and get to the root of what they want or need in a home.

  “Shut up. I need them if I’m going to survive our mother’s visit.” Laughing, I wander away when I see brightly colored scarves and beanies a few booths down.

  Running my fingers over the soft wool of a seafoam green and purple scarf, I debate whether I need it. Screw it, taking it off the rack, I also grab the matching beanie and wait to pay for my purchase.

  Adding the bag to my wrist, I turn to join my friends as we work our way through the aisles, weaving through the crowd of people making their way down the same path we are. By the time we leave, our arms are full and all my Christmas shopping is done. I also feel much better than I did yesterday. They gave me the distraction I needed from the turmoil I’ve been facing and as I listened to them gripe about numerous dating disasters, it helped me remember just how lucky I am to have someone as wonderful as Brendan.

  Hugging my friends goodbye, I wrap my arms around myself, scowling at the snow as I hike to my car. The morning with them was perfect, relaxing, and filled with laughs. Yet the sight of the white blanket shimmering in the sun still manages to sour my good mood. The parking lot is treacherous, black ice covered in a layer of fluffy snow. It’s so deceptive in its appearance. I slide a few times before I finally make it safely to my car.

  After it warms up for a few minutes, I ease my way out of the stall and through the parking lot. I’ve just turned onto the side street, my car slipping a little as it tries to find its grip when a blaring horn sounds behind me moments before my car is jolted forward. My head slams into my steering wheel, dazing me.

  Frantic knocking breaks through my haze, muffled words through the glass as the handle to my door shakes.

  “Hey! Are you okay?” More knocking, before I hear a low, “Shit.”

  Leaning back in my seat, I groan as pain shoots through my temples and down my neck. Fumbling with the handle, I swing my legs out the door and breathe in the fresh air before I look up at the person before me.

  My throat seizes as I meet familiar blue eyes staring down at me in concern, a wave of dizziness causes me sway on my feet. Dizziness I’m positive has nothing to do with hitting my head.

  The expression of shock on his face is probably the same look I’m wearing as I lose the ability to speak. It feels like my lungs are collapsing, every breath a painful struggle. I haven’t seen this face in seven years. Okay, that’s a lie. It’s a face that haunts me, one that I have barely been able to push aside. And even when I successfully make it a day or two without thinking of him, my dreams fill in for my mind.

  Every time I think I’ve finally started to forget, a song will come on the radio or a face with just enough similarities will jar my memory and send me spinning. Landon Taylor has haunted me and my pieced together heart for the better part of a decade.

  My lungs burn as I gasp in the frigid air. The familiar burning behind my eyes that’s always present when I think or dream about him. The same burn that turns into tears on the very rare occasion I succumb to curiosity and look him up on social media.

  “Allie . . .” That voice, its deep resonance sending shivers down my spine as my heart begins to race. Even though it’s been so long since I’ve heard his voice, my body reacts intensely to the way he says my name. The scent of his cologne, the same cologne from my memories, assaults me. A sweet, woody fragrance, with just a hint of citrus.

  I say nothing, my body is numb except for the ache in my chest as I stare at him. He left a hole that’s never quite been filled, no matter how much time passes. His eyes search mine as I drown in the memories I’ve forced myself not to think about.

  Lips press against mine feverishly as he lowers me to the ground, our bodies grinding together in desperation. Voices carry through the trees, reminding me that this is a stolen moment, a risk we’re both taking.

  “Oh God, I’ve missed you.” His voice is thick with need.

  The damp grass is cool against my back, but the rest of my body is flushed with heat. I don’t care that there are people who will notice he hasn’t come back to the bonfire with me, I only care to satisfy this need to be close to him.

  Our tongues dance together, he tastes of rum and coke, and I’m addicted. My fingers grip the long strands of his hair, pulling him into me, desperate, needy.

  His lips slow against mine before he regretfully pulls away as his friends start calling his name. “I love you, Allie.”

  “Allie. Allie!” Landon’s concerned voice breaks through the pain of the memory and I’m once again lost in his blue eyes. My voice seems to have completely disappeared.

  “Allie, you need to tell me you’re okay. Is there anyone I can call?” His gaze is concerned as I stare at him blankly, fine creases forming between his brows when I still don’t say anything.

  Shaking my head, I drop my eyes to my hands to release the hold his gaze has on me.

  “I’m okay. And no, I don’t want to call anyone.” The words are choked out, full of pain but not from the impact of his car rear-ending mine.

  I should cal
l Brendan, but I need to get my shit together first.

  Brendan.

  It was four months after Landon tore out my heart that he managed to break his way in. We shared a university class and became fast friends, his sweet, genuine demeanor so likeable. I knew he liked me, but I wasn’t in a position to open my heart again.

  By the end of the semester, I knew he was in love with me. I didn’t return the feelings, but my soul fed off the way he made me feel—loved and safe. A year later and he asked me out. We’ve been together ever since. His steadfast personality, his genuine and kind soul eventually won my heart. A comfort I crave right now.

  Closing my eyes, I ground myself before standing and pressing my back into my car cringing when I look back up at him. My body is tense, my head throbbing. I can’t differentiate between the physical and emotional pain I’m experiencing right now.

  “Crap, I knew I hit you hard.” Landon’s fingers brush over my forehead where I’m sure a ghastly bruise is forming before he lowers them to gently press into my neck.

  Every muscle stiffens as he probes, the pressure of his fingers sending tingles down my spine. My body remembers exactly what those fingers are capable of. “Please stop, I’m okay,” I whisper, not bothering to try and hide my anguish.

  “No, you’re not.” He drops his hand, the frustration in his voice making it rough. “Look, it’s cold and I have an appointment to make. Here’s my information and here’s my business card. You’re going to come and see me tomorrow for an assessment at ten in the morning. If you don’t show up, I’ll come to you.”

  He shoves a business card and piece of paper into my hand, wrapping his fingers around mine until they’re closed.

  My hand tingles as he takes his away, turning and walking back to his car. I watch him the entire way, my eyes devouring the sight as every inch of me hurts more the further he moves away. He looks back at me when he reaches his door, his eyes never leaving mine as he gets into his car and sits there, waiting.

  Swallowing hard, I drop back into my seat, shut my car door, and drive away without even examining the exterior damage. My predictable life has managed to change directions so abruptly that I feel like everything is about to be overturned.

  Watching Allie drive away was more painful than when I broke my leg three years ago, and almost as painful as telling her we couldn’t be together. She’s been a constant in my mind since the last morning I saw her.

  Allie’s skin is silky under my fingertips as I rub her back. She moans, pressing back. I increase the pressure, her low groans turning me on. Hell, everything she does turns me on.

  “I’m going to end it with Melissa, tonight when you’re out with Blake and Dawn.” Pressing my lips between her shoulder blades, I talk into her skin.

  She turns in my arms, the smile on her face brilliant. “Really?”

  Kissing her, I hold her close. “Yes. I love you. I don’t want to be with anyone else. It’s something I should’ve done a long time ago, I’m sorry. I know you haven’t felt good about all of this.”

  Her face fills with guilt. “I feel like such a horrible person. I hate being the ‘other woman.’”

  I hate the fact that I’ve made her the “other woman.” She’s shown a lot of patience while I try to figure out how to end things with Melissa, but truth be told I haven’t been ready and I should’ve told Allie I wasn’t, but then she would’ve moved on and I just couldn’t handle that thought either. If I am really honest with myself, I’ve been a selfish ass.

  “Tonight, I’ll fix all of this. I promise.” She smiles when she hears how sure I sound. It’s time I make this right.

  That night I not only broke my promise, but I also broke both of our hearts.

  Seeing her today, everything about us just came flooding back. She still makes my heart speed up, her soft voice is a caress on my strained nerves. The flush that fills her cheeks when we look at each other is still there, and the craving to talk to her and hold her and laugh with her, it’s a physical need.

  Whenever I try to banish thoughts of Allie away to dissect later, my mind fails me. She might not even be the same woman I remember, time changes people, yet the feeling I had the first time I saw her is the exact same one I had when I saw her today.

  Like my soul recognized its missing piece.

  Tomorrow I’ll be able to spend some real time with her, maybe I can finally give her the apology she deserves and not a pathetic one given over the phone after coldly ending things.

  I can’t stop hope from filling my head, maybe I’ll finally get the second chance I’ve craved all these years. I know from stalking her social media there was a boyfriend at one point, but her profile picture has been the same for over a year now, one of her standing next to a waterfall, so maybe he’s out of the picture.

  When I get home, I log in and search for Allie’s social media profiles. I can’t help it. I wish her profile wasn’t as secure as it is, even though I know it’s smart.

  Josh leans over my shoulder and groans, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Shut up. I rear-ended her today, she’s coming in tomorrow so I can check out the damage. Seeing her brought back a lot of memories, and now I have my chance to make things right, to fix my mistake.” I click on her profile picture and scroll through them.

  “Do you see that guy? He’s in years’ worth of photos. Do you honestly think that nine months with you outweighs years with that guy? Don’t you see how messed up this is? Refer her to someone else. Let her live her life.” Josh points at the photo I’ve stopped on. Allie is sitting on some guy’s shoulders, her hands tangled in his curly hair. They’re both in swimsuits and smiling at the camera. The date on the photo is from four years ago.

  “Josh, I can’t. I just—I need to be near her.” My voice comes out strained, desperate. He doesn’t get it, he doesn’t understand the connection we share, the one I threw away. Now that I have my chance to see her, I won’t give it up. We’ve never been able to resist each other and this need isn’t going anywhere.

  “You’re an asshole,” he growls.

  “I know, but that’s not going to stop me from seeing her. Even if it’s just one more time.” I sigh.

  This is my chance. I’m not going to throw it away.

  Waking up after an awful night’s sleep, I drag myself out of bed toward the bathroom. Glancing behind me to a sleeping Brendan, his curly hair sticking out all over the place makes me smile. The hole in my heart that was reopened yesterday afternoon has a Band-Aid over it. The safe comfort of Brendan’s arms preventing me from leaping into a black hole of memories.

  The same arms that put me back together, protecting the cracks from breaking even further all those years ago, held me together once again last night. It kept that question that taunted me for years, why not me, from resurfacing.

  Brushing my teeth, I avoid looking in the mirror. I’m mad at myself. I’m angry that I’m so weak a person that someone from my past still has so much power over my emotions. That he still holds a large piece of my heart, even after he stomped on it. That even now, I’m still wondering why not me, even though I shouldn’t be.

  After seven years, I should be able to look at him and be angry that he ended things over the phone, or better yet, not feel anything at all.

  I should be able to look at the man who has loved me for six years and realize I have what I need. Yet, I can’t shut off the way he still permeates my thoughts on a regular basis. I’ve tried. I’ve tried every single day since that night.

  Yanking a brush through my hair, I relish in the pain I deserve as it rips through the tangles.

  He chose someone else. Someone he said I didn’t need to worry about. He picked her, not me. Brendan picked me. He loves me, every part of me. With him, I’ll never need to wonder or doubt his feelings. He is safe, he loves me, he makes me laugh, and we have a wonderful life together.

  “Good morning.” Brendan walks into the bathroom, stretching his arms above his head b
efore wrapping them around me. Looking up, I’m surprised to see he looks sad. His voice is muffled as he speaks into my hair. “You didn’t sleep well last night.”

  Closing my eyes, I breathe in his comforting scent. “I had a nasty headache from the accident. I’m going to see a physical therapist this morning.”

  Angling my head when he leans down to kiss my neck, I smile into the mirror as our eyes meet and ignore the wrenching guilt about not telling him the full story behind the accident.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” He turns me to face him, lifting me onto the counter so he can step between my legs.

  Panic fills me at the idea of Brendan seeing me near Landon. He knows me too well, he’ll know something’s up. Clasping his shoulders, I lean forward to kiss his cheek. “Nah, enjoy your morning. I don’t know how long I’ll be.”

  He smiles as he kisses me once more before turning to switch on the shower, the warm steam doing nothing for the chills running through my body.

  I finish getting ready for the day, tying my hair into a messy bun before throwing on sweats and a hoodie. It’s tempting to dress up, but I won’t give in. I shouldn’t need to impress him.

  Maybe there’s a silver lining to this weird and uncomfortable situation. This will give me an opportunity to finally have closure on the Landon issue. That’s what I’ve needed all these years. A chance for the door that was left slightly ajar in my mind to finally shut. Not that I would ask him why he picked her instead of me, but an opening to say a real goodbye, not a heartless sever over the phone.

  Two hours later I’m parked outside of Landon’s clinic, Freedom Physical Therapy, trying to find the strength I need to go in, get evaluated by Landon, and get out unscathed and hopefully ready to finally let go.