2Title: Where I Stood
Author: born backwards
Disclaimer: I do not own any music, movies, books, restaurants, etc. that are mentioned in this story.
Summary: Two girls. Two boys. Four hearts. No decision is ever easy when it pertains to matters of the heart.
Author's note: Story will be in two or three parts. I have no idea when the next update will be. Warning: don't hold your breath.
See, I thought love was black and white. That it was wrong or it was right. But you ain't leaving without a fight, and I think I am just as torn inside.
Where I Stood
I didn't know why I'd come back. I knew, deep down, that it was going to be painful. It was going to hurt to be back here, in the place where I had left behind everything and everyone that I'd loved to 'go find myself.'
I'd been back for a few weeks. Today wasn't any less painful than the rest. I thought it was more.
It started out the same as all the other days. I got up, got dressed, made breakfast, and then I went to class.
I had started a new class today, though. Sociology. I should have remembered that he had wanted to study Psychology, too, but I hadn't, just like I hadn't remembered that, unlike me, he'd stayed behind. I wished I would have remembered, but I hadn't, and now here we were, standing awkwardly in front of each other, neither of us saying anything because we weren't sure what to say. Or even if there was anything to say.
"You're back."
His voice was as smooth as ever. Like chocolate. I had to fight hard to suppress a shiver. It wasn't fair. After all this time, he still affected me like this. I hated it.
He was looking at me with those chocolate eyes of his. Everything about him was like chocolate - his hair, his eyes. Even his skin.
He'd always tasted like chocolate. Chocolate and mint. Sometimes cinnamon. I briefly wondered if he still tasted the same. I was sure he did, but I wasn't about to test that theory. I couldn't. I wouldn't. We'd said our goodbyes.
"I've been back for a few weeks now." I didn't sound anything like me. I'd always been loud. Some might have even said obnoxious, but when I spoke, my voice was so soft.
It was just weird seeing him again. I'd loved him, so much, but love was never enough, was it? There was always something else, wasn't there? Something always got in the way.
"It's good to see you."
I didn't think he was serious. If someone ever did to me what I had done to him, I wouldn't think it was good to see that person. He couldn't be serious.
Or maybe he could be. He looked serious, anyway. Dead serious. I recognized that look all to well - it'd been used on me plenty of times over the fifteen years I'd known him.
"You look good." I almost clasped my hand over my mouth. Almost.
I couldn't believe I'd just said that. What I'd meant to say was, "It's good to see you, too, Brady," but once again, my words betrayed me. They always did.
"Glad you think so." There was that smirk. That same smirk that had dragged me in years ago, and the same one that had the power to drag me in again. But only if I let it.
"You always were cocky," I commented. That was when she decided to attach herself to his right side.
I didn't know who she was. Not at first glance, anyway, but it didn't take long before I recognized her.
"Hi, Kasey." I smiled. It wasn't forced. Yes, she had attached herself to Brady, the boy I'd loved my whole life, but I'd let that boy go and I couldn't blame her if he'd moved on. With her.
Kasey Davenport and I, we went way back. Her and Brady, too.
I couldn't hate her. I couldn't even be jealous of her because I didn't have any right to be.
Didn't change the fact that I was jealous, though.
"It's good to have you back here, Nicolette."
I knew she didn't mean that. I could see it in her eyes, and in that forced smile of hers.
She thought I was a threat to her relationship with Brady. It didn't take a genius to figure that one out.
I didn't think I was a threat. I wished I was, though I knew it was horrible to think such a way, but I wasn't. Her thoughts weren't unreasonable, though; not in the least. Brady and I had history. Any girl would feel threatened by that. I knew I'd feel that way if I were her.
"Ready to go, babe?" Kasey asked Brady, moving her gaze to his face.
He wasn't looking at Kasey, though. His eyes were trained on me. He'd been looking at me the whole time. I didn't think Kasey had noticed, but I certainly had.
Kasey smacked his arm to get his attention. I could see the hurt in her eyes that she tried to hide when he finally looked at her.
"Wha-" He paused. "Yeah. I'm ready."
I resisted the urge to smile. He always had been a good listener. Even when he was distracted.
Kasey didn't even spare me a second glance when they walked away. Brady didn't, either. Not at first, but he looked back once they'd reached the exit.
His beautiful chocolate eyes met my baby blues. I froze. Kasey dragged him away and our eye contact was broken.
It was only when they were out of sight that I took back what I'd thought before. I was definitely a threat.
- X -
"I need caffeine. Pronto." That was the first thing I said when I waltzed into Starbucks.
No one spared me a single glance. A lot of college kids were regulars at this place. They were used to me bursting into the shop and demanding caffeine.
After realizing that Brady wasn't as over me as I had thought, I'd left the campus and immediately hailed a taxi. I needed to think and I did my best thinking at Starbucks.
"Usual, toots?" the guy behind the counter, Curtis, asked.
I'd normally slap a man if he referred to me as toots. Curtis was the only exception. I'd met him my freshman year at Salem State University, the school I'd been attending for a year and a half before I transferred to Columbia and moved back.
He was a bit of a player, but if anyone had a heart made of gold, it was him. I just liked to think he was misunderstood.
And no, he hadn't followed me to New York. That would have been weird. I'd dragged him with me. He'd told me he'd always wanted to go to New York, so I figured, 'why the hell not?'.
We actually shared an apartment off campus. We didn't have any classes together, though. Haven't since freshman year at SSU. Our majors were different. Mine was Psychology and his was English. He wanted to be a writer. I didn't think he'd have to try too hard. I'd read his stuff and he was talented. Very creative, actually.
"Usual, Marsters," I said as I took a seat at the counter. That wasn't allowed, but the manager didn't care. He loved me. Whenever someone asked why I got special treatment, he lied and said I was his granddaughter and family always got special treatment. Never got old, that lie.
I looked around the shop while I waited for Curtis to finish making my drink. The usual 'morning crowd' was here - college kids and suits. There were two people that stood out, though. A couple in the corner. I assumed they were a couple, anyway. They were bickering, but couples bickered. The boy's hair was jet black and pulled back in a ponytail that reached about mid-back. I vaguely recognized him as the lead singer from that band, Zero Gravity. They weren't wildly famous, but they were well known here in New York, and apparently in California, because Lorraine loved them. She had a major crush on the drummer. Liam, I think his name was. The band had played a gig on campus at Columbia over the weekend.
The girl that was bickering with him had pretty red hair. I was almost positive she was the girl he'd introduced as his fiancée. Samara something. I couldn't really remember her last name. She didn't seem like his type, not from where I was sitting. He didn't really seem like hers, either, but they were engaged, so maybe they had more in common than I thought.
He said something that I guess she thought was sweet because she stopped whisper-shouting mid-sentence and threw her arms around him. I suddenly felt like I was watching something that was none of my business, so I looked away from them and focused on trying not to think about Brady.
"Tough day, Niks?" Curtis passed me my drink. A Caramel Frappuccino. Extra, extra whipped cream. Just the way I liked it.
"That obvious, huh?" I didn't think it was, but Curtis had been my roommate since mid-freshman year. If anyone could read me, he could.
"I thought Brady didn't live here anymore," he commented.
I'd told him all about Brady a few months after I'd met him. I'd cried a lot and we ended up getting drunk.
Yes, we ended up having sex. Twice. It didn't go any further than that. We were friends and nothing more.
It wasn't awkward after the fact, either. That would have been the cliché thing, but we moved past it. We'd built a good friendship over those few months and we weren't about to let a couple of fucks fuck it up. We'd both agreed that the adult thing to do would have been to not make such a big deal out of nothing. Yeah, sex was a big deal, but I'd always thought that if a person was comfortable with their 'sexual partner', then there wasn't anything to fuss about.
Besides, he'd been a great fuck. Amazing.
It'd just been fucking, though. Nothing more. I'd only ever made love to one guy, but I wasn't about to take that trip down memory lane.
"Maybe you should be the one with the major in Psychology."
I was avoiding the question. I was good at that, but Curtis wouldn't let me get away with it. He was mean like that.
"You can't avoid this, Mancini," he said pointedly before yelling that he was taking a break.
Mr. Hawn's voice floated in from the back, saying that Curtis had twenty-five minutes and then it was back to work.
"You got it, boss," Curtis yelled before moving from behind the counter and letting one of the other workers take over. He led me over to a booth in the corner. I knew he was going to make me talk the second that we sat down. There was no way of getting out of this. I could lie and say I had another class to get to, but he knew my schedule better than I did. I was screwed.
"He's seeing someone." I didn't know where that came from, really. I just knew that I needed to talk about it. I needed to talk about him. I hadn't since that night over a year ago. I thought avoiding all those thoughts of him, all those regrets, would make it easy to let him go, but it never did. Avoiding everything just made it easy to pretend and now that I was back, and I'd seen him, I didn't think pretending would be so easy anymore.
"You could always start seeing me to get back at him."
He was smirking. The damn joker. Not that I would take him up on that even if he were serious because I didn't see him that way. Sexual attraction? Definitely, but I was a hormonal twenty year old. I was attracted to any man with a bright smile, pretty eyes, and toned muscles. It was only natural.
"Been there, done you," I teased with a roll of my eyes.
He laughed. "Okay, in all seriousness, if you still have feelings for the guy, you have to tell him."
"He won't want to hear it. I hurt him." I was so scared that if I told him that I still loved him, if I tried to tell him how sorry I was, he'd just laugh. I knew, deep down, he wouldn't, because he was Brady and he was so kind. I didn't think he had a mean bone in his body, but wasn't there always a first time for everything?
"If I had ever loved someone as amazing as you, I'd want to know if she still loved me, regardless of how badly she'd hurt me."
That was the Curtis I knew. The sweet one. The intelligent one. The one that he rarely ever showed to the other women in his life. I didn't understand why. I probably never would, but I wished I did. I wished I could figure him out. I knew him, but he was still a mystery to me. He probably always would be.
"He still loves me. I saw that in his eyes." And I did. It was so obvious. Kasey saw it, too. She wasn't stupid. She could pretend she hadn't seen it. She probably would, but I'd been first, and I didn't mean to sound like such a bitch, but I'd always be first. He'd known me longer. He'd loved me longer.
"But if he's happy with Kasey, how can I ruin that? I hurt him when I left because I promised that wouldn't be it for us when I told him I wanted to move to New York. I lied. Me moving, that was it for us." I'd said it wasn't when I first talked to him about moving. I'd promised him that we'd stay together because we loved each other too much to let distance get in the way. I hadn't meant it. I'd wanted to mean it, but I'd always been convinced that long distance relationships didn't work. They always ended in disaster. Someone always got hurt.
I left Brady with a letter. It was cliché and cowardly, but I was almost positive I was a walking cliché and everyone did something cowardly at least once in their life. Leaving the way I had, that was my cowardly thing. I regretted it every day, but it was the past, and wasn't it best to just leave it there?
"Look, I'm not a relationship guy," Curtis started. His gaze intensified. "You know that." I did know that. Any girl who knew him knew that. "I've always been a love 'em and leave 'em kind of guy, so I don't know much about love. I'm not sure I know anything about it. What I do know, though, is that it isn't over between you two."
"And how do you know that?" I cut in. "You're not a relationship guy, like you said, so how could you possibly know that?"
I was acting like a bitch. I wasn't meaning to, but I knew he was right and I didn't want him to be. I didn't want him to be right because it would complicate things and I didn't want any drama. I didn't need drama. Moving back was a bad idea. I'd known that, but I'd made the move anyway.
"Because moving on isn't possible without closure. You still love him and he still loves you. You left him with a letter. That doesn't sound like closure to me." He didn't seem bothered by my bitchiness. It didn't surprise me, not really. He'd been living with me for a little over a year now. I guess he was used to it.
"You're right." That was hard to say. So hard that it was probably extremely childish of me, but I was used to being right. I wasn't right this time, though. I knew that. I accepted it. Yeah, it wounded my pride a little, but that didn't matter. Avoiding Brady would just make things worse.
"So, what now?"
- X -
'What now' turned out to be Curtis going back to work and me taking a cab back to campus, which wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't seen Kasey and Brady acting all lovey dovey outside of the lecture hall. I'd studied them for a few moments before rushing to my final class of the day. All through Professor Sursok's class, I was distracted. I didn't hear a single word she said. All I could think about was Kasey and Brady and how so utterly happy they'd looked.
He was happy with someone who wasn't me. He still loved me, but he loved Kasey, too. I saw that now. I couldn't take Curtis' advice. I couldn't do anything about the feelings I still had for Brady because it wouldn't be fair to him. I'd fucked up and he'd moved on. There was no changing that.
I returned to mine and Curtis' off-campus apartment in a terrible mood. I had one test to study for, two essays to write, and on top of all of that, I couldn't stop thinking about Brady. Every thought that raced through my mind was about him - his face, his eyes, his smile, his laugh... everything. I was dangerously close to taking a trip down memory lane. I couldn't let myself do it, but at this point, it seemed inevitable. I was already remembering the little things, like they way he used to look at me as though I were the only girl in the world and the way he read me like an open book.
I remembered his hands, the way they always touched me so gently. They were big and strong. Soft, but a little rough. Warm, too. So warm that his fingertips would leave fire in their wake when they moved along my abdomen.
He was sweet. So sweet. He always bought me lilies and told me I was beautiful even when I knew I looked like shit. He'd held my hand in front of his friends and carried me after soccer practices when I'd complain that my legs hurt. He'd looked after me when I was sick and he'd been there for me when my grandmother passed.
I was trying desperately not to think about the big things. I remembered them, of course. I remembered them perfectly. The big things, they were what started our relationship, what made us realize that friendship would never be enough for us. And then there was the big thing that had changed our relationship. That big thing that could make or break a relationship. It would only break the relationship if the people weren't mature. If the people didn't know how to handle it. I'd handled it. We both had - together.
I didn't want to think about it, though, and I wouldn't. Not now. I had to take my mind off him, so I called Curtis and asked him when he would be returning to our apartment. I couldn't think of this place as home yet. I didn't think it would ever be home. It was just a place for me and Curtis to stay until we got our feet on the ground.
Curtis wasn't sure when he would be returning. He said he'd been invited to a frat party.
"A frat party? On a Wednesday? This early in the day?" had been my response. I hadn't questioned him any further, though. I knew better. I would never understand fraternities or sororities, hence the reason I had refused to join a sorority even though my mother had been an Alpha Phi Zeta. I knew it looked good on job applications, but I could make it just fine without the help of a sorority.
I didn't know what to do when I ended my phone conversation with Curtis. I had nothing to do. I didn't have many friends here. Most of my friends from high school had gone off to Ivy League Schools like Harvard and Princeton, even Brown and Yale. Lorraine, my best girl friend that I'd known since fourth grade, had gone off to Stanford in California. We kept in touch - you know, talked on the phone, visited each other on Holiday, that kind of thing. She'd told me leaving Brady with a letter was stupid. I probably should have listened.
I dialed her number. I hadn't talked to her for a couple of months, so it would be good to hear her voice. She was still my best friend, despite the distance. I didn't know what time it was in California. It was earlier there than it was here, but it was nearing one 'o' clock here, so it couldn't have been too much earlier there.
I was just about to hang up after about the fourth ring, but a familiar voice on the other end stopped me.
"Hello?" It wasn't Lorraine, I knew that much. I still knew who it was, though. Mason. Her boyfriend. She'd introduced me to him last year at Christmas. He was sweet. Very cute, too, with blonde hair and green eyes and toned muscles. Definitely not Lorraine's usual type, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. They'd gotten together a couple months after meeting mid-freshman year at Stanford. I had a feeling that he was it for her. I hoped he was. He was good for her. Better than any of the boyfriends she'd had since she started dating in seventh grade - there'd been a cheater, a couple control freaks, and a few assholes. From what I'd seen of Mason, he didn't fall under any of those categories. He'd been chivalrous at Christmas dinner with both my family and Lorraine's. He'd said 'please' and 'thank you' and had been nice to everyone, even my brat of a little brother and Lorraine's annoying, yet adorable, little sister. I'd told Lorraine that I approved. Not that she needed my approval, but still.
"Hey, Mason, it's Nicolette," I greeted him. "Is Lorraine around?" I was assuming she was, since he'd answered her phone and all, but I wouldn't be surprised if she'd left her phone behind and gone to class without it. She'd done that multiple times in high school, and though a few things had changed, not much had.
"Oh, Nikki!" he exclaimed, as if just now realizing who had called. "Lorraine's writing a paper. It's due tomorrow. I told her not to put it off, but she didn't listen..." That was all he was able to say before a female voice cut in, screaming, "Shut up!", and he did exactly that a few seconds before speaking again. "She's a bit distracted. And bitchy."
I wasn't lying when I said he was sweet. I really wasn't. It was just, he was also a joker, and he liked to tease Lorraine. She'd called him an asshole plenty of times when they'd visited me and Curtis in Salem over the summer. He wasn't an asshole. She wasn't a bitch. She could be, but so could every other girl in the universe. Including myself.
"Could you tell her that it's me and that I really need to speak to her?" I put emphasis on the 'really'. I did need to talk to her. I needed girl advice. Not boy advice. Curtis was a great friend and I appreciated his help, but I'd always gone to Lorraine for boy troubles. I almost rolled my eyes at that. Boy troubles. I was going to be twenty-one very soon and I was having boy troubles. It was so high school, but Brady wasn't some boy. He was special. He was different. He was Brady.
"I could," I knew there was a but coming, "but," see, there it was, "you know what she's like when she's studying. If I interrupt her, my crown jewels will be removed."
I laughed. I couldn't help it. I wasn't used to boys saying 'crown jewels'. They said penis or balls or dick. But this was Mason. I'd only spent one Summer and quite a few Holidays with him, so I didn't know him as well as I knew my other friends, but I still knew him and he didn't talk like that in front of women. I assumed he did in front of his male friends, but he was really sweet around women. Chivalrous and mannerly. Whoever raised him did a good job - an amazing job, actually. Lorraine was one lucky woman.
"Why is Lorraine a lucky woman?" Shit. I hadn't realized I'd said that out loud.
"She has you." I didn't bother trying to cover up my slip-up. "I like you, y'know? You're good for her."
If Lorraine was too busy studying to talk right now, I'd talk to Mason, even if talking to Mason wouldn't make me feel better about Brady and Kasey and how happy they were. It was at least a distraction.
When he didn't say anything, I continued with, "She hasn't always had the best relationships." I paused, remembering all those times she'd come to me with tears in her eyes, crying over just another asshole that had broken her heart. I'd told her time and time again to take a break from relationships, to focus on school so she wouldn't be so heartbroken all the time, but she always ended up in another relationship. That had all changed, though, ever since her relationship with Peter, who turned out to be a control freak. We didn't speak for weeks - me and Lorraine - because of him. Because he'd decided that I was a threat, that I was going to convince Lorraine to break up with him. Near midterms, she'd broken it off with him and said that she'd had enough.
Mason was the first boy she'd dated since then. And he was also the longest relationship she'd ever had. I was sure he knew that, too, and unlike all those boys from junior high and high school, he knew how lucky he was. He knew exactly what he'd be losing if he let Lorraine go, and I was almost positive he never intended to do such a thing.
"Iwanttoproposetoher."
I hadn't understood him. His words were rushed and he spoke in a hushed tone, like he didn't want Lorraine to hear.
"Come again?" I hated making people repeat themselves because I hated having to repeat myself, but it was necessary when I hadn't understood what he'd said.
"I want to propose to her," he said again, this time more clearly, but he was still speaking in a hushed tone.
It took a second for his words to fully register in my brain, but once they did, I did the only thing I could think to do. I squealed.
"Christ, Nik," he muttered. I immediately quit my squealing and reprimanded him for using the Lord's name in vain. I didn't mind curse words. I avidly used profound words, but I hated it when someone used the Lord's name in vain. It bothered me. I wasn't ridiculously religious or anything, but for whatever reason, it still bothered me. I guessed I just didn't like the way it sounded.
"I think you should, by the way," I blurted, referring to what he'd said before I'd reprimanded him. "I know her. She'd say yes without a second thought."
"You think?" he asked. The vulnerability and uncertainty in his voice surprised me. He'd always come off so strong and confident, but again, I didn't know him all that well. I sincerely hoped that changed soon because I thought maybe I could use a friend like him in my life.
Or maybe I was just trying to replace Brady. The one I knew before we'd dated. They weren't exactly the same because Brady could be an ass, but he and Mason were alike in many ways. I missed having a male friend as sweet as Brady. Curtis was sweet, but he was a douche bag a lot of the time. Mason was simply sweet.
I wanted to be his friend for all the wrongs reasons. I knew that. I couldn't replace Brady, no matter how hard I tried.
"I don't think, I know," I told him after a moment, and I meant it. "Hey, um, tell Lorraine I called and that I'll make sure to talk to her later, okay?"
"Okay..." He sounded confused as to why I had to hang up so soon, but I couldn't talk anymore. Not when all I could think about were brown eyes and strong, soft hands and the sweetest, brightest smile I'd ever seen. "I'll talk to you later, Nicolette."
I hung up and threw my phone on the couch. Then I cried.
I was surprised when, the following morning after Sociology class, Brady approached me.
I'd spent a while crying after I'd ended my 'conversation' with Mason. Curtis had found me asleep on the couch, curled up in a ball. He let me sleep for a little and after he'd woken me, he took me out for coffee and we spent the remainder of the day and the night together. We talked about a lot of things for a while, but later at night, we'd ended up sitting in silence, just reveling in each other's company - I'd enjoyed that the most. I liked knowing there was someone there for me who I felt that comfortable with. So comfortable that we could just sit in silence and it was enough. It'd been so long since I'd had someone like that in my life, and I didn't think Curtis realized how much I truly appreciated him, and how much I truly needed his friendship.
I'd decided last night that I'd make a habit of showing him just that more often.
"I didn't think you'd come back." I didn't say anything. "It's just, you left that letter and I thought..." He paused and I heard his voice crack ever so softly. That noise silenced me even more. "Would you please look at me?"
I'd been staring at the floor of the hallway we were standing in, but his irritated tone made me look at him.
"Why'd you come back?" he asked when I still hadn't said anything.
Why had I come back? I wasn't sure. I'd missed New York. After all, it was home, but there was more to it than that. I just wasn't willing to admit it because he was happy. I'd be damned if I ruined that for him. I couldn't do it; not again.
"Do you want to go somewhere with me? Someplace where we could eat? Like an early lunch?"
The question was random. Completely random. I didn't know I was speaking until the words were out of my mouth and it was too late to take them back. I was praying that he'd say no, that he'd lash out on me and tell me I wasn't worth his time, but no such thing happened. Just as expected.
"Sure," he replied. Maybe a little too quickly, but perhaps that was just my imagination. "I had plans to eat lunch with Kasey, but I'm sure she won't mind me catching up with..." He paused then and his face contorted into an expression of confusion, as though he were thinking through exactly what I was to him. I was curious... what exactly was I to him? Other than an ex-girlfriend? Could we ever be friends again? Did he even want to be friends again? Did I even want to be his friend?
I knew the answer to that question. It was simple. I did want to be his friend, but I also didn't, because I wanted more. I wanted what we had before. I wanted everything, but I couldn't have everything. I could have had everything, if I hadn't chosen to leave the way I had, but... well, I wasn't going to think of that again. There was no use deluding myself. It would make things worse. Make being here hurt more.
"...an old friend," he finished after a moment. It didn't sound like that was what he meant to say, but I didn't dare ask him what he was really thinking. Part of me wanted to know, but a bigger part of me knew that it was probably best to leave it alone. He was happy and I had to be happy for him. So, with that thought in mind, I followed him out of the classroom, making sure to keep a safe distance between us, and promised myself that I'd be happy for him, even if it hurt me. After how I'd left him with just that letter, I probably deserved it, anyway.
- X -
We didn't go to a restaurant for lunch. No, instead, he drove us to a really nice three-story house that I didn't recognize. Only, I did recognize it... from my dreams, anyway. It was my dream house. White with baby blue shutters, and a white picket fence, and a beautiful lawn with the brightest green grass I'd ever seen.
"Is this your house?" I asked, not bothering to hide my incredulity. I'd told him about this house plenty of times. The first time I'd told him about it, we'd been six. We'd 'hated' each other. He'd been the boy that called me mean names and shoved me on the playground and threw mud at me. One day, though, on the playground, we'd been the only ones on the swings and he started talking to me. He said he'd heard his parents talking about the future at breakfast and he'd asked me if I ever thought about the future. I was six, so the answer was obviously no, but I did think about family and stuff. Normal little kid things. I'd told him I wanted a nice boy with an accent because they were pretty, that I wanted exactly three kids and two of them had to be twins, and then I'd told him about my dream house - the house he had now.
It had to have been a coincidence. There was just no way he'd bought this house, or rented it out, because of what I'd said to him all those years ago.
"Yeah, I moved in a few months ago," he said after we'd stepped out of his Sedan. "Some guys just finished rebuilding it. It's nice, isn't it?"
The look on his face told me he remembered all about my dream house. I couldn't have it now. It was his.
"It's perfect," I managed to say once we had reached the front door. I was hesitant about stepping inside once he'd unlocked the door and opened it. What if he'd made the inside exactly how I'd pictured it, too? It was probably stupid of me to think that, but could anyone honestly blame me?
I wasn't sure how long I stood outside before I finally did step inside. Upon doing so, I took note that he had definitely not decorated the inside like I probably would have. I was thankful for that. Relieved, even. It gave me incentive to pretend that him having the house rebuilt like my dream home was nothing but a mere coincidence. Never mind that I knew it was anything but. I just needed to lie to myself some more, make myself think he didn't still love me so that I could be genuinely happy for him and Kasey.
"I'm going to make us some coffee, okay?" I nodded. I didn't think I needed anymore coffee, but I wanted it. Maybe it'd calm my nerves. It was doubtful, but it was worth a shot since I was sure there wasn't any alcohol lying around. Brady wasn't a big drinker, for reasons I'd rather not disclose. "You don't have to wait in the living room, if you don't want," he added before making his way into the kitchen.
I took one more glance around the living room before joining him.
"Columbia's a better school than SSU," I blurted after seating myself on a stool near the counter in his kitchen. It was nice, with a marble top. Very conservative.
"Huh?" He wasn't looking at me because he was preparing the coffee, but I could tell by his voice that he was confused by my outburst.
"You asked why I came back, and that's part of the reason," I told him, and it was the truth. Columbia was a better school than SSU. At least, I thought it was. Sure, SSU was a great school and I'd loved it there, but Columbia had more of what I needed for my major and it was in New York, so that was a plus. I'd always said that I'd never come back, but I guess I'd known, from the moment I'd left, that I would end up returning home, even if I hadn't wanted to admit it to myself.
Brady still wasn't looking at me when he spoke. He was busy washing out a couple of coffee mugs.
"Your letter said..." His voice trailed off. I felt a slight pang of guilt. It must have been so hard for him to bring that up. So hard for him to even talk to me.
"I know what my letter said." I wasn't being harsh, just truthful. "I guess it lied." I sighed. "I guess I lied," I corrected myself.
"I wanted to hate you," Brady said after he'd taken the seat beside me and handed me my mug of coffee. I set it aside. I suddenly wasn't feeling so thirsty. I mostly felt sick. "You broke my heart, y'know?" I felt even sicker after hearing that. I deserved it, though, didn't I? I just felt so awful. "I tried so hard to hate you." Okay, I was pretty sure I'd gotten the point by now. "I couldn't, though... I can't. I guess it's just not possible to hate the ones you love the most."
He'd said 'love.' Not 'loved', as in past tense, but 'love', as in present tense.
"That's because I do love you." Clearly, I'd voiced my thoughts again. I had to quit doing that. It never did me any good, though it wasn't as though I ever did it on purpose. "I know that it's been well over a year since we've seen each other or even spoken, but we've known each other since we were two. I loved you for a long time before I fell in love with you. I wasn't - I'm not - going to stop because you left me with a letter and decided to not give us a chance."
"That's not why I left you with a letter." He looked at me then, but I averted my gaze from his. I couldn't look into those eyes. Not those dreamy chocolate eyes that I'd always drowned in. I'd never be able to look away. "I wrote it because I knew if I came to say goodbye in person, if I tried to end things face to face, I never would have been able to leave. I wouldn't have been able to say goodbye because I loved you too much. I know my actions, or rather, lack thereof, proved otherwise, but it's true. I just... I thought it would be better that way."
Regardless of how stupid that sounded, it was the truth. I knew leaving that way hadn't been better, not for either one of us, but I'd felt that way at the time.
Neither one of us said anything for a few minutes after I'd said that. I tried to read the expression on his face, but I couldn't. I'd always sucked at reading people. With Brady, that had always been different, but that was then and this was now.
"What was it like? Salem, I mean." A subject change. Good. I could deal with that. I looked at him, but again, I didn't look into those eyes. I'd never look into those eyes.
"It was fine. I liked it there, and the people were nice. With the exception of my roommate, but that's because he's a total ass-" I didn't say anything more. If only I had a hammer, I would use it to hit myself on the head. I couldn't believe I'd just inadvertently mentioned Curtis to Brady. It wasn't as though it were a big deal... at least, I didn't think it had to be, but this was the boy I loved, the boy who'd said he still loved me even though I'd broken his heart, and maybe me mentioning that I lived with a male was not the smartest move.
"Oh." Sure enough, he sounded disappointed, and hurt, and I felt like hitting myself. I reminded myself that it shouldn't matter to him, though. He was with Kasey. I wasn't even dating Curtis. Yeah, I'd slept with him, but Brady most definitely did not need to know that. Besides, me and Curtis were friends and nothing more, and I hated that I felt so guilty when Brady wasn't even my boyfriend anymore so I had no reason to feel guilty for living with a guy that wasn't him. "Are you two...?"
He let the question trail off. I didn't care that he did so, either, because I knew, without him having to finish, what he was asking.
"No," was my only response.
I wasn't really looking at him, but I could see his smile out of the corner of my eye. I didn't know how to feel about that. I didn't know how to feel about any of this. About him and Kasey and him and me. I wished it could all be easy. I wished there was a way to get out of this without breaking anyone's heart, but I knew no matter what I did, or what he did, someone was going to get hurt. I could have him right now if I wanted him, and I did want him, but what about Kasey? It was clear that she loved him, so how could I hurt her like that when I'd been there already? I'd lost Brady because I'd let him go. I could only imagine how much more it would have hurt had it been him who'd let me go, him who had ended everything. I couldn't do that to her. I wouldn't.
"It wasn't over, was it?" I didn't answer. "It still isn't. Is it?"
That was when I looked at him. He was looking right at me, and when our eyes met, I found myself unable to look away. I'd wanted to poke fun at him for sounding like Noah Calhoun when he'd asked that question, but I couldn't do that now, not when he was looking at me like that. Looking at me like he used to look at me. Like I was the only thing that mattered to him.
"I was going to come after you." I wanted to ask him why he hadn't. Why hadn't he tried to stop me like he'd wanted to? I knew the answer. Deep down, I knew, but I didn't want to admit it. It was my fault he hadn't come after me because I'd asked him not to. I'd written that even if he'd tried, I'd still leave because I had to and nothing he had to say would stop me.
I hadn't meant it, not in the long run. Not after I'd realized what exactly it was that I'd told him, but I'd been too scared to call him and tell him that I hadn't meant it. So, I let him believe it. I regretted that every day, but that was in the past now. There wasn't anything I could do to change it.
"I would have, but your letter said not to, and the idea of you rejecting me in person, hurt a hell of a lot more than your letter."
His words caused my heart to break all over again. "I wouldn't have rejected you," I said, and I meant it. I'd written that letter because I'd been terrified that we wouldn't have made it. I'd been terrified that a long distance relationship would have caused us nothing but problems. I should have had more faith in our relationship than that. If we'd done the long distance thing, we could have made it if I'd just tried, but I'd over-analyzed and I'd created all these scenarios in my head, so I ran.
"It doesn't matter now, though, does it?" I asked after a few minutes had gone by and he hadn't said anything. "You're with Kasey. You're happy, and I'm happy for you." I was happy for him. I really was, but I didn't think I meant it as much as I wanted to, as much as I should, because I was the one who'd let him go. Who was I to miss him?
"I love her." God, hearing that shouldn't have hurt so much, but it did. It was like a knife through the heart. "But she's not you."
He really shouldn't have said that. Oh, God, why did he say that?
"You shouldn't say things like that. Don't say that, okay?" I didn't really want him to take it back. I wanted him to mean it even more than he did now.
He took my face in his hands, making it even more impossible for me to break eye contact. Goosebumps broke out all over my arms. It didn't surprise me that his touch could still do that to me, still make me shiver. God, his hands were so warm. I'd forgotten how warm. It'd been so long since he'd touched me.
"Why? Because it scares you? Because you're afraid that I mean it?" I closed my eyes, hoping that would make him stop, but it didn't. He kept talking. "Good. You should be, because I mean it. I mean every damn word, and I know you love me. I know you still do, and I know that because I know you. So, yes, I love Kasey," there was that knife again, "and I don't want to hurt her, but as much as I love her, I will never love her the way that I loved you. The way that I still love you."
"I-I can't do this," I stammered. I wanted to push his hands away from my face, but I couldn't. I was too weak. "It's not right. This isn't right. I left. We're over."
"You're here now," he whispered, "and I'm not letting you go again. Not without a fight. So, look at me. Please."
I complied and reluctantly opened my eyes, baby blue meeting chocolate brown the moment I did. His face was close to mine now, so close that if I moved closer by about an inch, our lips would be touching. That thought was tempting, oh so tempting, but that little voice in my head - my annoying conscience - was telling me that it would be wrong because he'd be cheating and I'd be the other woman. I didn't want to be the 'other woman'. I wanted to be the only woman, but I wasn't and that was why I couldn't move any closer.
However, that didn't stop him from moving closer and within seconds, his lips were touching mine. I didn't react. I couldn't react, but God, I'd forgotten how soft his lips were.
He kissed me again and I reacted by kissing him back. I shouldn't have kissed him back. I should have pushed him away and left, but I couldn't because his lips just felt so good against mine, like they were made for mine. I wasn't sure how, but I ended up straddling his lap while he deepened the kiss, and I found myself smiling against his lips when I realized he still tasted like chocolate and mint.
He was kissing me like he was afraid I'd leave again if he stopped, and he had every right to fear that because if he stopped, I would leave. I'd leave because, deep down, I knew this wrong. This was all so very wrong because he wasn't single. He had someone who loved him just as much as I used to. Just as much as I still loved him.
"Don't go," he whispered against my lips when I started to pull away, and I shivered at the feel of his warm breath on my face.
"I have to," I whispered back, and though my words said one thing, my lips said another because I was back to kissing him again, more fervently this time, and we both knew that no matter what I said and no matter how many times I pulled away, I wasn't going anywhere. I was staying.