Accept the things I cannot change.
I’ve tried to do the same work within myself over how I treated Goldi. Our “relationship” spanned seven years, and I can only remember one where she seemed genuinely happy. Guilt isn’t a strong enough word for the emotion that drowns my body when I think of how badly I treated her.
So I write about her in my journals. Let Doc ask about her in my sessions. Opened up about the pain of losing her in group. People tell me first love is always susceptible to damage. It’s fiery, intense, and usually burns out quickly. They say to forgive myself and move on. They don’t understand. It’s not my forgiveness that is needed.
I think about her all the fucking time, allowing myself to delve into soft honey-blonde hair and the comforting scent of vanilla. I torture myself, remembering how every cell in my body reached out to fuse with hers. I’m convinced my memory exaggerates how strong our connection was. But I revel in it, all the same. I’m sure she’s long gone from Sugarlake by now. On to bigger and better things.
Wherever she is, I hope she’s happy.
I watch Marissa zip her black pencil skirt and bend to slip on her high heels. She stands and turns, hands on her hips.
“See something you like?” she purrs, walking over to give me a kiss.
“Just admiring the view.” I smirk.
Marissa surprised me last night, saying she had something “special” to give me. I was a little annoyed she showed up unannounced, but who am I to turn down a gorgeous woman if she wants to give me the gift of anal. I’m a mere mortal man.
“You know, if you gave me a key, then I could have been waiting in your bed… naked.” She peers from under her lashes.
I sigh, leaning against my headboard, the sheets pooling around my waist. We’ve been together for the past three years, but I’ve been honest with her from the get-go about keeping things casual. I’m not interested in a serious relationship. I care about her, but it wouldn’t be fair to promise something I’m not sure I can give.
She agreed at first, but I suppose it’s natural that after a certain amount of time, she’d start to want more. Maybe if I hadn’t met my soul mate when I was thirteen, and lost her when I was twenty, I would be able to feel for Marissa the way I suspect she’s starting to feel for me. But, I don’t. And it isn’t fair to Marissa for me to pretend otherwise. I’ve tried to let her loose, urged her to meet someone who can give her everything she wants. But she sticks around, showing up and putting her pussy on a platter. So for now, I’ll give her the parts of me I can.
Marissa sits at the edge of the bed, frowning. “Look, Chase, I’m not asking for a ring. Hell, I’m not even asking for us to move in together. Which if I was, after three years, could you really blame me? All I’m asking for is a level of trust. For you to show me that you want me in your life.”
I run my fingers through my hair, blowing out a breath. Fuck it. “Okay. I’ll get you a key made. But, Marissa, I’ve been honest with you from the beginning. I’m trying here, I am. Slow is what I need. I enjoy your company and I care about you. Please don’t push me for more than I’m ready to give.”
A smile lights up her face. “I think you’re worth the wait.” She pecks my lips. “Your parents are in town tonight, right? What time are you meeting them?”
“Six. Do you want to come?” I ask. Sometimes she tags along, but I’m hoping she says no.
“I’d love to, but I need to lay out these designs for the McKenzie project. I’ll be locked in my cave for the rest of the night.”
I shrug. “No loss. I’m sure Anna will be disappointed you’re not there, but it’ll be the same shit, different day. Catching up on what’s happening in our lives.”
“You mean your life.”
“What?” I look at her, my eyebrows drawing together.
“Well, I mean… you don’t really bring up your hometown, and neither do they. But their entire life is there, Chase. You had to have realized the conversation always centers around you.”
I let her words sink in, marinating in my brain. Is that true? Sam and Anna both know all things Sugarlake is a sore spot for me. I run through our past few dinners, realizing they’ve never once steered the conversation toward themselves. Fuck my life. All these years later, I’m still acting like a selfish prick.
I tell myself while I drive to the restaurant that I’ll make an effort. Ask about them for a change.
They’re already there when I arrive, and there’s a tension in the air surrounding the three of us that I haven’t felt in years. It has me on edge.
I sip my beer, Marissa’s words from earlier at the forefront of my mind, the guilt billowing inside me. “So, what’s been going on with you two?”
Sam and Anna share a look. She places her hand on his arm, almost to soothe him. Maybe they’re surprised I asked?
Sam rubs his forehead. “Well, there’s actually been some recent developments we need to talk to you about… with my health.”
My beer goes down the wrong pipe, causing me to cough and sputter.
“Shit, that came out wrong. Don’t worry,” he rushes out. “It’s nothing life-threatening, just a repetitive strain injury with my back. It’s really not a big deal—”
Anna cuts him off with a sharp look. “It is a big deal.” She looks over to me. “He’s been strongly advised by his doctor to go into retirement ‘cause of this musculoskeletal disorder. If he continues to work, it’ll only get worse.”
Sam grimaces. “I’m fine, truly. Just a twinge in the back that makes it hard for me to be in the trenches with the guys on-site.”
Well, shit. MSD is pretty common in construction. It’s not unusual for workers to get strains on their ligaments and joints, causing restricted movement and severe pain, making it almost impossible for them to continue working. I’ve seen it before, but I never thought it would happen to Sam.
I swallow. “So, what’s the plan?”
Sam’s cheeks puff out with his breath. “Well, you know what they say. ‘Happy wife, happy life.’ Anna wants me to go into early retirement. Bring on someone else to run the company.”
Anna nods, rubbing his forearm and gazing at him lovingly. “It’s time to step back and enjoy the benefits of ownin’ a company without the risks of workin’.”
Sam smiles softly, giving her a quick kiss before leveling me with his stare. “Listen, I know we’ve already talked about this a million times. And I know that more than likely, you’re going to turn it down again.” He hangs his head, staring at the table. “But before I go through the process of figuring out who I’ll bring in—of figuring out who I trust enough to run everything I’ve spent years building, I have to try one more time.” He raises his head, his eyes pinning me to my chair. “There’s no one I’d want to run my company more than you.”
I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, blowing out a breath. Anxiety scratches at my insides. So does the desire to bark out a “no,” but I tamp it down and try to think logically. I’ve built a life here. I have a career I enjoy, respect from my peers, a girlfriend, a support system. In Sugarlake, there’s nothing but painful memories and a group of people who made it very clear I wasn’t welcome. On the other hand, wasn’t I just thinking about how I would be less selfish when it comes to Sam and Anna? Everything I am, the man I’ve become is all thanks to the two of them. If they need me, then I owe it to them to get over my shit and show the fuck up.
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
Journal Entry #312
I’ve been able to talk to Doc about a lot over the past years, open up and vomit out the words so they don’t keep rotting me from the inside out. But this one is a memory I’d prefer to forget. So hopefully, purging it onto the pages will make it feel a little less heavy in my heart.
I was eight when mom decided she wanted a new life. I remember how she ran into my room bright and early, picking m
e up out of bed and swinging me around while she sang in my ear. I always craved her touch, so I laid my head on her shoulder and breathed in deep. Memorizing the smell and feel of her. I never knew when the next time we’d be this close was.
She sat me and Lily down, dreaming out loud about a magical city called Nashville. She had watched the movie This Thing Called Love and decided it was where we belonged. Mom was always getting fancy ideas when she was manic, but deciding to up and move us was extreme even for her.
But I was still a young boy, eager to believe in fairy tales. So I nodded my head along as she spoke, my belly filled with butterflies over the thought of going somewhere that our lives could change. Somewhere mom would be happier.
So, we went. That fucking day. Packed up what little belongings we had, piled in our beat-up Honda, and started driving. I don’t know how long the trip lasted, but every once in a while Mom would pull over at a gas station and take her “medicine” before we got back on the road. I wasn’t a fucking idiot—young, but not naive to the ugly truths. But what the fuck was I supposed to do? My main priority was looking out for Lily, not trying to dig my mom out of a hole she fell in before I even existed.
I remember her mood shifting hours into the drive. She started cursing and looking at the map. She told us she got lost and needed to stop and ask directions. She found some gas station in the middle of fucking nowhere, Tennessee. Said we were going to rest awhile and told me to take Lily over to the grassy area around the side of the building. Let us stretch our legs. Told us she’d be back in a bit after she figured out how to get to where we were going.
So I did. And we waited. And fucking waited. Eventually, I took Lily and went inside the gas station to find her. But like a ghost, she was gone.
It wasn’t the first time she forgot us. She’d always show back up.
I sat with Lily on the sidewalk in front of the gas station, watching random people filter in and out, the sun dipping beneath the horizon and the chill of the night seeping into my bones. With every moment, the fear grew inside me, but I hid it. I didn’t want Lily to realize something was wrong.
That was a defining fucking moment of my life. The moment I realized she wasn’t coming back. That’s when I learned you can never trust anybody, but you can always trust them to be who they are.
And my mom was a junkie.
22
Chase
“What do you mean you’re moving?”
Marissa sits across from me, her olive skin glowing in the candlelight. I took her out to dinner at her favorite restaurant, hoping that bringing her here would soften the blow. Maybe give her less inclination to cause a scene.
“I mean, my family needs me. It’s not a decision I take lightly. I know what I’ll be giving up here.”
“And what exactly is that?” She crosses her arms.
“My career for starters.”
Her lips pinch as she looks down at the table, and I feel like an asshole for springing this on her. I didn’t give Sam an answer right away, even though my knee-jerk reaction was to scream “no” from the rooftops. I owed it to him to think on it, talk to my shrink about it. Internally panic and then calm myself down a million times before finally coming to a decision.
So what if I’d have to give up my current career? It was my original plan to take over the company from Sam, anyway. I didn’t have to stop seeing Doc or running my Nar-Anon meetings. Nashville is only a two-hour drive, not unmanageable once a week. And Marissa…
I grab her hand across the table. “Listen, Sugarlake’s two hours away, not across the country. If you still want to see each other, I’m open to that. But I’ll be honest, Marissa. I won’t have a lot of time. My days are gonna be filled with learning the ropes of Sam’s company, bonding with the employees, working with them.”
She nods. “I understand that. I guess I’m just a little shocked. I thought you hated your hometown, and now all of a sudden you’re just picking up and leaving to go back? I don’t get it.”
I’m not surprised she thinks that. Talking about Sugarlake is a hard limit for me. I shake my head. “I don’t hate it. There are just memories I’d rather leave in the past there.”
“What kind of memories?”
“The painful kind.” I sip my drink, needing the burn of bourbon to chase away the bitter taste of Goldi. And Jax. And Lily.
I haven’t opened up to Marissa about my past. Fucking has always been the focal point of our relationship. Nothing other than scratching the itch, and abating the loneliness. We’ve enjoyed each other’s company, and there’s no reason to take it deeper. Until recently, she seemed on board with that.
She peers at me from over her wine glass. Her ruby-red lips part, giving me a glimpse of her blinding-white smile. “You’re right. Two hours isn’t much. Barely counts as long distance. I wish you’d ask me to go with you, but I understand your need to do this on your own.”
Her statement surprises the fuck out of me. She wishes I’d ask her to go with me? I rack my brain trying to think of when I gave her the inclination I’d be open to that. It’s hard enough to keep myself convinced to go—let alone take along the woman I’ve been holding at arm’s length for three years.
She pushes her glossy black hair behind her shoulder. “Besides, it could be fun. I’ll visit on weekends and get to know your roots.”
I clear my throat, uncomfortable at the turn in our conversation. “Yeah, sure.”
“Do you still have friends that live there?” She asks, cocking her head to the side.
Her question is a lead weight dropping in my stomach. “Uhh… I’m not sure. I didn’t exactly leave on good terms.” See, Doc? This is why avoidance works so well. So I don’t have to feel this.
“Hmm…” She takes another sip of wine. I follow suit, swallowing down more bourbon.
“Any high school sweethearts?”
My jaw clenches as my fingers tighten around my glass. My heart tries to beat out of my fucking chest at the mere thought of Goldi still being there. The idea of seeing her again has my stomach in knots and a balloon of hope expanding inside me. I’m not naive enough to assume I could get her back. I met her at the wrong time in my life and fucked it up before I could love her the way she deserved. Besides, I’m not the same person I was back then—not sure our connection would even exist with who we are now. But the urge to see her is strong.
I lift my shoulders. “Maybe, but I’m not sure she’s still around.”
Marissa straightens, tension evident in her posture. “She? So just one, then.”
Another gulp of bourbon. “Yep. Just the one.”
“How long were you two together?”
“What is this, twenty fucking questions?” I snap. Marissa’s eyes widen and she deflates, leaning back in her chair.
“Jesus, Chase. I’m just curious. You never bring up your past. Forgive me for trying to get to know the man I’m with a little better.”
“Shit, I’m sorry. I just… talking about the past is hard for me.”
She gives me a soft smile, but I see the questions in her eyes. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t have pushed. I know it’s a sensitive subject for you. Just promise me once you move back, you won’t shut me out. Promise you’ll let me experience this new stage of your life with you.”
I’m sick with the thoughts this conversation brings, so I nod at her. Her grin widens as she changes the conversation.
Thank fucking God.
Sugarlake is thriving. I drive down Main Street, flashbacks of the first time I saw it going through my mind. Back then, there were only five or six shops scattered along the street, but now there’s an entire strip of local businesses. It’s nice knowing the town flourished even when my world was falling apart.
I turn onto my old street and park in the driveway of what was once my home. I guess it technically still is, at least until I find a place. I sit in my car, taking it in. Surrendering to the storm whirling inside me that being back has caused. My knee hi
ts the bottom of the steering wheel as I nervously bounce my leg. I run my fingers through my hair once, and then again.
Man the fuck up, Chase.
Exhaling a deep breath, I repeat the serenity prayer, opening the car door to step into the shining Tennessee sun. The air feels different than in Nashville. I’ve gotten so used to the hustle and bustle of the city, I had forgotten how nice it is to be surrounded by the calm of a small town.
I twirl my key ring around my finger and stare at the only childhood home I’ve ever really known. Inhale, exhale. As I walk up to the front door, I can’t help myself and glance at the house three doors down. I don’t expect to see her, of course. But my heart races anyway.
The door in front of me swings open.
“Chase!” Sam has a wide smile and open arms, bringing me in for a hug. “It’s so good to have you home.” He pats my shoulder, stepping back. “I’ve been waiting for this day a long time.”
The emotion in his voice makes me swallow, a sudden knot in my throat. “It’s good to be back.”
“We’ll give you the day to get settled, and then tomorrow bright and early we’ll go into the office. Hit the ground running. Sound good to you?”
“Yeah, I’m ready to work. Let’s dive right in.”
His eyes sparkle. “Good, good.”
He pulls me inside. I walk to the living room, hugging Anna and plopping down on the couch. That’s where I spend the rest of the day.
That night, in my childhood bedroom, I dream of honey-blonde hair and vanilla. It’s the best sleep I’ve had in years.
I wake up bright and early, eager to jump into the nitty-gritty foundation of Sugarlake Construction. Walking into the kitchen, I see Anna pouring a cup of coffee, still in her baby-blue robe and slippers. Her strawberry-blonde hair flows down her back. She turns when she hears me and beams.
“Good mornin’!” She’s chipper as she takes down another mug for me. “Still take it black?”
Beneath the Stars Page 12
