by Sierra Hill
Of course, you have, idiot. What’d you expect?
“When? When can I see you?” Suddenly, it can’t be soon enough. I need it right this minute. I can’t wait a second longer.
I check the time on the clock and realize it’s after nine p.m. and she’s probably at her apartment studying.
She keeps me waiting for a second. “Um, what about tomorrow? Breakfast?”
I nod emphatically like a dumb shit. “Okay, yeah, that sounds good. Where should I meet you? Name the place and I’ll be there.”
It might sound pushy of me, but I want this to happen so badly. I’d go anywhere she wants me to go just to see her again.
But she stuns me in Mica fashion once again. “My apartment?”
Oh, fuck me.
My entire body shakes, the phone at my ear jiggling with hope.
“Mmm-kay. If you’re sure...if that works for you. I’ll see you tomorrow morning around eight?”
“Si. Okay. Bye Lance.”
“Bye, Georgie. Thank you. G’night. Sleep tight.”
And when I end the call, I notice my heart and head feel lighter than they have in weeks. In months. Maybe even years.
Because there’s hope in my life now. Hope that she’ll forgive me. Maybe not right away. It’ll take time for forgiveness to take place. At least I can live with the burning optimism that I have the opportunity to see her again.
Sleeping tonight may be a problem.
28
Mica
By the time I hear the knock on the door, I’ve checked the mirror at least a dozen times and have gone through two dozen outfit changes.
I’d finally landed on a pair of jean shorts and a t-shirt because I didn’t want to look too eager or sexy. Okay, maybe a little of the latter, because the t-shirt happens to be a crop top, exposing my navel.
Crap, maybe this was the wrong thing to wear. I look desperate.
He’s not coming over for a booty call. The only reason he’s called me is to make amends. I know this, yet I still have hope. I’m such a pathetic girl. Now I’m second-guessing myself and my motives.
It’s just that I’ve missed having a boyfriend. I’ve missed Lance as my boyfriend. And I just want him back. I’ll probably fall to my knees the minute I see him and beg him to return.
I said I was pathetic.
I’ve gone through every level of emotion there is in the last three months. My heart was broken and every day there was a reminder that Lance was gone and didn’t want anything to do with me. There were times I’d see him on campus from afar and the pain in my heart would threaten to send me running home in tears.
He’d returned with a fresh lease on life, learning to live without me. I was happy for him, but I was hollow and hurting. What hurt the most was that he hadn’t responded to any of my attempts to contact him. Not even my letters. I’d poured my heart and soul into those letters and I had no idea if he even read them.
There were days I was so angry at Lance for making me care so much about him. For loving him so deeply and letting him shatter me to pieces like that. Other days, I realized it wasn’t his fault. He was fighting for his life against an addiction that had controlled him.
I’d hear a few updates here and there from Ainsley and Cade, but they were generally good about not bringing him up in my presence. I knew he’d successfully finished rehab and was doing well. He was back at school and returned to the team, but unable to play in games. He was also completing his NA steps and talking to those he let down, asking for their forgiveness.
The very reason he is outside my door this morning. And here I am worrying about my clothing options in hopes he’ll want to be with me again. Ridiculous.
He knocks again, and I yell out, “Coming!”
In the end, I decide to change into a more modest shirt.
Turning the handle on the knob, I inhale deeply and let it out, replacing my frown with a bright smile.
And then I’m knocked off my feet when I open the door and stare at the man before me.
Somehow, he looks bigger and taller than he was three months ago. Buffer and bulkier, if that’s possible. His broad shoulders take up most of the doorframe, his biceps formed with ropy muscle exposed under the sleeveless jersey he wears.
His scent is subtle but powerful, masculine and spicy. I think I swoon when I stare up into his deep gray icicle irises and find him smiling timidly down at me.
Thankfully my hand on the door keeps me upright, otherwise I’d be a puddle on the floor.
“I’m like a vampire, you have to invite me inside,” he chuckles, his humor still intact.
Realizing I’m in the middle of the doorway and haven’t moved, I nervously shuffle out of the way, allowing him to step across the threshold, breathing in his scent as he walks by.
After closing the door, I turn to find him staring at me with an intense gaze. His eyes travel the length of my body, starting at my bare toes, up my bare legs, up and over my bare belly, up further to my neck and face. And then his gaze returns to my legs briefly before darting back to my eyes.
He looks noticeably uncomfortable.
“Come on into the kitchen. I have some huevos rancheros ready to go-”
I’m stopped short when his fingers wrap around my wrist and he pulls me back unexpectedly.
“Wait, um…can we talk first?”
This surprises me, because Lance is always hungry and ready to eat. I nod my head and we move over to the couch. It’s the only piece of furniture I have in my living room, besides an end table and an old TV.
We sit down, turning to face each other, neither of us really knowing where to place our hands. I think he’s afraid to touch me, because he within seconds of grabbing me, he dropped my wrist as if I’d burned his skin.
Great, now he doesn’t even want to touch me.
It seems like a lifetime ago that we sat on this couch together. That morning last summer when he came to ask me to be his Spanish tutor. The morning we made out and got hot-and-heavy because we were two magnets that couldn’t resist each other. Because our chemistry was so explosive that any time we were near each other we would detonate.
A lifetime ago.
Yet it feels like no time has passed at all. That feeling is as strong as ever. I still feel the intensity of it, even if he doesn’t.
When I glance up and our eyes meet, I notice a softness there. In the past, Lance had two speeds. Intense and extreme intensity. Now it appears that some sort of calm has replaced it. A peacefulness that has my heart fluttering with happiness.
“You look good,” I say to fill the silence. “You’ve gained some weight back and your color looks better.”
It’s a funny thing to say because I hadn’t really noticed before now how thin he’d become and how his skin was pale and sallow. But now that he’s clean, he just looks healthy.
Vibrant. Virile and so very hot. That part hasn’t changed.
He chuckles. “Funny what a healthy lifestyle can do for a guy. Thanks, though.”
Lance tips his head and stares down at the cushion between us, but when he returns his gaze to mine, I see the determination there.
“Mica,” he begins, his voice shaky. “I’m here to tell you how sorry I am for what I’ve done to you and what I put you through.”
Reaching out my hand, I entwine my fingers between his but remain silent. I know he has to get through this before I can jump in.
He sighs heavily, his voice thick with emotion. “Fuck, this is harder than I thought. First off, thank you for fighting for me and not giving up. Had you not called me that night, I could’ve died.”
He stands abruptly but doesn’t move. He lets that hang in the air, a bomb that’s been dropped but not detonated.
“Okay, so here goes nothing,” he turns back to me. “I’ve lived with the knowledge that I killed my brother.”
This startles me, and I jolt back against the couch as if I’ve been shocked by an exposed wire.
“What?
” I ask incredulously because surely, he’s making this up.
“I blamed myself for his death all this time. And I know my dad did, too. It was an accident, what happened to Landon, but I was responsible. He ran out after a ball I threw over his head and was hit by a truck and killed instantly. I watched it happen with my own two eyes and as you can imagine, it molded me into who I am today.
“For years, that bitterness grew between my parents; they both drank heavily. They were alcoholics. My mom, she loved me, but her grief sent her to her own death. My dad just allowed the hatred to confiscate any love that he once had for me. And well, I turned to booze and pills to make myself feel better. To numb all that self-hatred I had.”
If my heart hadn’t already been broken over Lance, it was now shredded and bleeding for him.
Tears sprout in the corners of my eyes, but I remain quiet. Listening to him speak. His eyes glisten with unshed tears, as well. I knew this had to be difficult for him, but I didn’t realize how devastating.
“Mica, I’ve hated myself for years and hid it from everyone. When I met you, I started to feel differently about life. For a while, everything was perfect. You are perfect. But then something inside me went haywire. Maybe it was after the lake incident. It drudged up old feelings of inadequacy and failure. I may have helped save Alvaro, but I couldn’t save my own brother. And then after the fight with my dad, well, he cut me off. And this thing with you – our relationship – you were – are still – too good for me. I couldn’t believe that someone so perfect like you could love someone like me. Deep in my heart, I knew that given time, I would ruin it. I would hurt you with my lies and my self-destructive behavior.”
I hold my hands out and wrap both around his so I can feel him and comfort him with my touch.
“Ironically, I screwed everything up and hurt you anyway. That’s the only path for an addict. We can’t keep juggling things while using. Eventually, all those balls we have in the air will drop and we hit rock bottom. Or worse, die.”
Standing up in front of him, I move my hands to his face and cup his clean-shaven jaw.
“Don’t ever feel ashamed about what happened. It happened for a reason and you’re alive for a reason. You’ve been given a second chance and for that I’m so eternally grateful.”
My hands drop to my sides, but he takes them into his.
“Mica, my life going forward is never going to be easy. Once an addict, always addict. Every single day for the rest of my life I will have to fight to keep on the straight and narrow. To keep those negative feelings of inadequacy at bay and to fight the urge to use again.
“I didn’t want to see you while in rehab or even after because I wanted to give you time. Time to see that you could have something so much more than I can offer you. I understand if you don’t want me in your life after all this, even as a friend. But I’m hopeful, given time, you’ll be able to forgive me and things between us will eventually…”
I bite down on my lip and will myself to stay in place because every part of me wants to kiss him everywhere. I’m practically shaking with need and restraint.
“Lance, when I said I loved you, I meant it. That’s not something that can just disappear like that,” I snap my fingers to illustrate. “Yes, I’ll admit, I was so hurt when you left me like you did and didn’t want to see me in the hospital. But I was hurting for you, not because of you. I just want to be in your life in whatever capacity you’ll have me. No matter how hard or difficult things get, I want to be the one there for you. Always.”
His face morphs from grief and regret to something else entirely. It’s like a weight has been lifted and he’s finally able to smile again.
“I love you, Mica. I’ve loved you for so long but couldn’t say it out loud because I didn’t feel worthy of your love.”
My heart just tripled in size and feels like it’s going to break my chest wide open.
Lance hovers over me, and then very tentatively, leans down and his lips capture mine in a kiss that says it all.
It starts off soft, with regret and longing, and then grows deeper and more passionate, as if to say how much I’m desired and loved. How much he’s missed me.
His fingers slide through the loose strands of my hair, his mouth devouring me. Nipping my lips, biting, nudging my mouth open so his tongue can explore me further. I’ve forgotten how good it feels just to kiss Lance.
And it’s just a prelude to everything else to come.
29
Mica
“I have to admit, you two are really cute together, mi hermana,” Therese whispers, as we make our way through the buffet line at my niece’s birthday party. “You’re glowing.”
Allowing my hair to fall over my face to hide my embarrassment over her observations, I smile to myself. The last month has been touch and go, with a lot of ups, downs and some missteps. I worry so much that I walk on eggshells around Lance, worried that I’ll set him off and back down the path he’s left behind at any moment.
We sit down on the lawn chairs with our paper plates in our laps and I peek over at Lance, who is sitting in a semi-circle with my brothers, all laughing and shooting the breeze. Probably about sports, cars and whatever else guys talk about.
“Thanks. He’s pretty great.”
“You look happy. And I’m really glad.”
“Estoy content,” I emphasize, because it’s so true. Having Lance back in my life and healthy again makes me ecstatic.
There have been a few challenges and problems we’ve worked through since we got back together. The biggest hurdle was Lance not wanting to go out or be around any of his friends who were drinking. It worried him that he’d fall back into the trap.
But we slowly began leaving the apartment on Friday and Saturday nights and spending time with Cade and Ainsley, hanging out at his place with Javin and Trent, and eventually going to dinner with some of his teammates at Coach Parker’s house. All the while, I watched in silent trepidation as Lance did his best to avoid any mention of his desire to drink.
Lance has more strength than a lion, though. He uses his humor to share stories about what stupid stuff he did when he was drunk or stoned, in a way using it as a lesson for the younger guys he hangs around with. I love him for that. He’s so strong and capable and I see the confidence building in him every day. The other guys look up to him and revere him even more so that he is so open and honest about his short-comings.
Maybe it’s because of that confidence, and the bond we have together now, that I finally invited him to spend time with my family. Soon after we got back together, Lance finally confessed to me that I had unintentionally hurt him by never introducing him to my family as his boyfriend. I quickly remedied that error and talked my parents into inviting him for dinner.
The first occasion was butt-awkward, but by the end of the night, my parents came around. My mother, bless her heart, sent Lance home with a pan of home cooked Mexican food. It was my mother’s way of opening her home to him and inviting him to be part of our family.
My father…well, he’s been a little harder to convince. He still holds Alberto in high esteem, maybe because I’ve never mentioned how inappropriate Alberto was with me. Maybe I should have, but I didn’t want to ruin their working relationship. And honestly, I think he’s just a socially awkward man who doesn’t know how to communicate with women. At least, I hope that’s all it is.
As I’ve watched Lance interact with my brothers and family today, I know that it’s his easy-going personality that people can’t resist. He’s too wonderful not to like. And I know my papi will come around in his own time.
I’m so full, I sit with my hand resting on my tummy, sighing wistfully as I watch Lance interact with my brothers.
“Are you pregnant, cariño?” my sister asks me out of the blue.
My head snaps in her direction, my brows furrowed in surprise. “No! Why in the world would you ask that?”
She tsks and shakes her head, dipping it to wher
e my hand is placed. “When I said you’re glowing, it reminded me of when I was first pregnant with Amelia.”
My heart gives a zing and a jolt – both in joy and concern – over the probability of being pregnant right now. I do a mental countdown and check off the days since my last period. I’ve been taking my pills regularly, so I don’t think it would be an issue.
Having a baby and raising a family has been one of my top priorities since I was a young girl. But a dream that I only want fulfilled when the timing is right. And at this point in our relationship, with me finishing nursing school, Lance just out of rehab and working through his steps, now would not be that time.
Blanching, I swallow thickly, feeling bile reach my throat. I’m not late; at least not yet. But I’m not expected to start my period for another three days.
What happens if I am pregnant? I don’t even know if Lance wants a baby. Or what our future will look like. We have so much to work through with just the two of us that a baby would just complicate things even more.
“No, we’ve been careful. You’re wrong. Maybe you’re projecting. Maybe it is you, hermana, that is pregnant, si?”
She blushes and turns away, so I can’t see her face.
“You are, aren’t you?” My eyes narrow in suspicion.
Therese looks back at me and covers her lips with a finger for me to keep quiet.
“Only Ramone knows. We’re only six weeks along so please don’t tell mamá or papi, okay?”
I lean over and squeeze her in a hug, careful not to flip the plate on my lap.
“Oh, Therese. I’m so happy for you. You will soon have more niños than mamá and papi did!”
We laugh together conspiratorially and get to talking about babies. It warms my heart that she and Ramone are so happy, and they have made such a beautiful family and life together.
It reminds me that Lance and I still have a lot to learn about each other. Perhaps tonight is a good time to discover how he feels about children and what his plans are for family in the future.
