Afterthoughts: A Charity McAdams Novella (The Charity McAdams Novellas) (11 page)

He turns and holds up his hands in surrender.
He crosses the room and takes the knife from my hand, laying it on the counter, before
gather
ing
me into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he says, his lips pressed against my forehead. “I’m not with Vanessa or any of
those other girls they link me to. At least not the way they portray it, I mean, I have dated some of them-”

My nose wrinkles at this.

“-but I’ve never had anything long term or serious with anyone, other than you. I think I tried to fill a hole inside myself with anything I could think of for a while there.
Drinks, clubs, girls, whatever.
None of it worked though, and I gave up on all of it. I’ve been single for over a year now. Vanessa is still around, we see each other, but we d
o not live together and we were never
engaged
,
or even close to that
, no matter what the gossip r
ags say. Ok?”

I nod against his chest and then pull back out of his embrace. I really have no idea why a
ny of this matters. It doesn’t.

“Might want to check the turkey,” I say, gesturing back to the stove.

Brandon looks disappointed but he crosses the small space and turns h
is attention back to the stove.

I resume chopping the fresh veggies and herbs
for the sauce, taking my time.

We finish cooking in silence, for the most part, only speaking to help finish the dinner. I toast up some rolls from the café and put a little butter and garlic on them as Brandon drains the meat and mixes it into the sauce. I set the table and he is right behind me with the serving dishes of pasta and sauce.

Once everything is set out, we sit down and start to dish out onto our plates. While we were cooking, everything smelled so amazing that my mouth was watering at the thought of eating, but now that
it’s all before me I feel sick.

“Cherr
y, is everything alright?
”
He
asks, before taking his first bite.
“Do you want me to leave?”

“No, I don’t want you to leave,” I answer quietly. “That’s the problem.”

I expect him to look confused, but when I finally bring myself to meet his eyes, he looks understanding. “I really didn’t come here expecting any of this to happen,” he says. “I didn’t even know if I would see you and then when I did, I don’t know, it’s like something just clicked and I was happy again, for the first time in a long time.”

I feel tears starting to build and I silently hold my breath, trying to keep them back.

“I’m still in love with you, Cherry, always have been,”

I exhale and a tear breaks free of my resolve and trails down my cheek.

“I know I don’t deserve a second chance, what I did to you is unforgivable. I know you said you’re with someone else now and I know he probably treats you the way you deserve to be treated and that at the end of the day, I have absolutely no right to ask you to take me back after everything,” he pauses and takes my hands in his, holding them tightly. “But I also know there’s still something here, between us, and that I would be a complete idiot to just go back to LA and act like none of this ever happened.”

I don’t know what to say. Brandon’s eyes are dark and intense. I have to break away from his gaze because I can’t think straight with him looking at me like that. I look down at our intertwined hands
and try to calm my racing mind.

In the months, even years following his disappearing act, I would sometimes let my mind wander through different scenarios and what I would say to him, if I ever saw him again. Mostly they were a series of bitter diatribes that were meant to wound him and make him feel like pond scum for leaving me like that. I never imagined that he would apologize and be so self-aware of his own failures. I never prepared myself to have
this
conversation.

However, the one nagging question that has always haunted me still remains unanswered. I look up at him again. “Why didn’t you come back for me? If you’ve felt this way the whole time, why not come here and tell me? You’ve had three years of stewing in this regret when you could have contacted me at any point along the way and tried to make things right.”

Brandon shifts his gaze for a moment before answering. “I was ashamed. I was scared. I didn’t know how you would react. You have no idea how many times I sat down to write it all out in a letter or an email or I would go to call you but hang up before dialing the last number. Eventually, I just stopped and tried to bury it all. Lock it away in the back of my mind.”

I nod, remembering the letters I had started but then throw away, the emails I never sent, or the hang-up calls I made. I remember being angry, scared, rejected, lonely, sad, and how I never found the right words to explain it all.

“I’m so sorry,
Cherry
, more than you will ever know. I know I ruined everything. I wish I could take it all back.”

The rest of the tears start to fall as Brandon scoops me out of my chair and into his lap. I lean against his shoulder with my arms around his neck and we both cry, seeming to let go of the past three years o
f heartbreak and pain together.

It
’
s
half
past noon and Ashley is
late. I’m sitting at our normal t
able at our favorite lunch spot
, waiting. I drum my fingernails along the table, me
ntally rehearsing what I’
ll tell her about yesterday.

I’m just about to text her and see what’s taking so long when she stumbles through the front door. She looks down at the carpet to see what she caught her foot on before spotting me. She rushes across the restaurant and collapses
into the chair across from me.

“Pulled an all-nighter?” I ask, glancing
over her disheveled appearance.

“Is it that obvious?” She asks, smoothing her hair and tugging at her jacket before realizing she has her buttons mismatched. She mutters under her breath as she unbuttons her coat to fix it. “I was up till four. But…I got everything done and shipped out this morning so it was worth it.
Just exhausting.”

“We’re getting too old for all-nighters. We don’t handle them as grac
efully as we once did,” I joke.

The high
schooler
working the counter comes over to get our order and then scurries away to the back, leaving us vir
tually alone in the restaurant.

“How was your night? Did you go out with James?” She asks.

Oh boy…here we go.

“Not exactly,” I start.

“You w
ere with Brandon, weren’t you?”

My jaw drops in surprise. “What? How did you…?”

“Charity, I’ve known you forever and one thing I know is that you’re a terrible liar! I always know when you’re up to something. Remember that surprise party you tried to throw for my seventeenth birthday? You kept it from me for what? A whole three days?”

I smile at the memory. “What gave it away this time?”

“The jacket.
I knew it wasn’t yours.”

I
shoulda
known. Leave it to Miss.
Fashionista
to spot something like that.

“It could have been James’,” I offer, unconvincingly.

“Was it?” She counters.

“No,” I ad
mit, looking down at the table.

“Alright, so spill.
What’s going on with you two?”

I start to recount the day to her in hushed tones, even though we seem to be alone, you never know who will overhear what and in a small town like ours it can seem
like even the walls have ears.

“So did he stay the night?” She asks after our waiter drops off our sandwiches.

I take a bite and then shake my head. “No, I told him I needed some time and space to think and sort things out. He kissed me goodnight and then went back to his hotel. I haven’t ta
lked to him today. I figure he’
s spending time with his family.”

She nods and we are quiet for a few minutes, eating and each mulling over our own thoughts.

“I can’t believe you made out with him in my bathroom,” she says, smiling.

“
That’s
the part you can’t beli
eve?
In all this mess?
Really?”

She laughs. “I’m just
sayin
’.”

I roll my eyes at her and pop the last
bite of sandwich into my mouth.

“Why didn’t you just tell me he was there?”
She asks.

“I didn’t know how you’d react. I didn’t want it to be a big scene.”

“What? You thought I’d punch
him out or something?” She laughs
.

“Well, you do have a lot of sharp tools,” I tease, thinking of
all her jewelry making gadgets.

“True,” she says. “Not like I haven’t considered it before.”

“
What? Killing him with pliers?”

“No, that would be way too messy,” she says with a wink. “I just mean telling him off. I’ve rehearsed it a million times in my head. Not recently, but I could probably improvise.”

“Do you think I’m making a mistake?” I ask, suddenly serious.

“That depends. What are you doing?” Her eyebrow
rises
.

“I don’t know,” I sigh, dropping my head into my hands. “I’m just so confused.”

“Well, you know I’m here no matter what you decide. I know you well enough to trust that you will figure this out and make the best choice for you. But I do think you need to talk to James.” Sh
e takes my hand
and forces me to look at her. “Whether you end up with him or not, he deserves to know the truth.”

As much as I
hate to admit it, she’s right.

**
*

I head home and call James as soon as I get there. He apologizes for not checking in the night before but apparently the meeting went pretty late and he didn’t have a chance to call. He lets me know he is wrapping up at work and wants to see me tonight for dinner. I agree to meet him at one of our usual places in the city so he doesn’t have to drive all the way here. We finalize o
ur plans and get off the phone.

He drops another “I love you” bomb before the call ends, but I had already started to hang up so I’m hoping he figures I just didn’t hear him.

I guess he will know the truth soon enough…

My face flushes at the thought of it. I’ve never really dated a lot and I have never been the one to end a relationsh
ip. Although, once he knows I’
ve been seeing Brandon he’ll probably be the one to
actually end the relationship.

That’s just a formality, I suppose.

I try my best to push those thoughts out of my head as I go about getting dressed. I’ll need to leave soon if I want to beat the nasty, Seattle area traffic.

**
*

A few hours later I’m seated across from James at an upscale restaurant that overlooks the waterfront. He looks quite handsome in his business suit and the beginnings of a five
o’clock shadow. He looks antsy and I can tell he
had a long day at the office and is still pretty wiped out from staying
out too late the night before.

He orders
an appetizer and a bottle of wine before we really start talking. I try to stop my foot from bobbling under the table, hoping he is too tired to pick up on my nervous energy.

“So, abo
ut the other night,” he starts.

I inhale sharply and my posture stiffens.

“I know we said we’
re dropping it and moving forward. But I just wanted to let you know some of my thoughts, since then.”

I nod, my mouth is dry and I don’t think I could speak even if I wanted to.

He takes my hands and rubs his thumbs along my wrists. “It got me thinking about our future, beyond just this summer. I know you want to take things slow, and I appreciate that, Sweetie, really, I do. It’s just that I need some reassurance that you’re in this for the long haul. Now, that may not be in the form of an engagement, but then again, maybe it is.  At least a timeline on when you could see that happening. I’ve realized that I do want us to get married someday, Charity, the other night really made me see that clearly. We can take all the time you need but to me, that would be the end goal.”

I pull back one of my hands and take a gulp of wine.

“James, I can’t,” I say, just barely above a whisper. “I can’t give you a timeline.”

His expression shifts and he looks confused. “Well you don’t need to answer right now. You can think it over and--”