Afterthoughts: A Charity McAdams Novella (The Charity McAdams Novellas) (6 page)

“My journal!”
I screech. “What were you doing in my journal?!”
My hands fly from the steering wheel and we swerve slightly before I grab the steering wheel again.

“Can we pull over?”
He requests, looking nervous.

I
open my mouth to argue that I just want to get home but decide against it and pull off the freeway and park along the shoulder. As soon as the engine is stopped I turn to him and nod for him to continue.

“The morning of the rehearsal I came to see you, I had bought some flowers for you but you were out doing something for the wed
ding. I don’t remember what. Anyways,
your Dad let me in and so I went to your room to leave them for you and I wanted to write you a little note to go with them. I found a notebook on your nightstand and opened it to get a blank page but I saw some writing and just, I don’t know, started reading.”

As he is making his grand confession my mind starts to rewind on high speed to try and remember my journal entries from the weeks leading up to the wedding. I don’t journal re
ligiously, most of the time it’
s an outlet for seasons of life where my brain feels full and I just need a place to get out a
ll my thoughts. Often times it’
s a jumbled mess of thoughts that don’t quite make sense.

After the wedding was cancelled I put that journal away and haven’t read it since. I always figured that was a chapter of my past that di
d not need revisiting. I knew
I would always remember the pain and
humiliation without reading the highlights over and over again.

“Setting aside that ginormous invasion of privacy, remind me, what was so heinous in my scribbles that drove you to call the whole thing off and run away like that?” I say, sarcasm starting to slip into my words.

“There were a few things but the tipping point was a whole page of people that you wanted me to talk to about jobs. You had things like plumber, electrician, EMT, etc. and it gave me this picture of what you wanted and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to live up to that. You wanted a normal life with a normal guy
and I just didn’t fit that mold and
I felt like if I didn’t fit your cookie cutter plan I would be a disappointment.”

“
How could you feel all this and not bring this up to me?
To
let me have a chance to work this out with you?
Why just run away without getting all the information first? After all the years we spent together I feel like I should have at least been given a chance to explain or try to reach a compromise!”

“I tried,
I mean,
I was upset but I still showed up at the rehearsal and was still planning to go through with everything but then some other stuff happened--”

“What? What happened?”

“
At the dinner, when my Dad asked how you felt about moving to California you said that we’d have to wait and see about that.”

He pauses.

“So? What’
s wrong with saying wait and see?”

“Cherry, we both know that is what you
always
said when you didn
’t
want to do something but you didn
’t wa
nt to just say no outright. It was
like a cover.”

“You canno
t be serious? That’s what this is all based off of? That one line is the reason you abandoned me?”

“It wasn’t an easy decision, I wrestled with it all night, going back and forth, trying to figure out what to do but in the end I took the selfish road.”

“Brandon, do you know how many times I said “we’ll wait and see”
that week?” I
ask,
my voice dangerously quiet. “When are you going to have a baby? Where will you live? Are you going to keep your job at the library? Are you going to move to the city for more job opportunities
once you finish school
?

“
Everyone wanted to know everything all at once and I was so consumed with planning the wedding that I didn’t know, I didn’t h
ave the answers for any of them,
so
my default became
“
wait and see
”
with a big, fake smile to convince everyone that we had all our ducks in a row. You think you were scared? I was terrified. I had no idea what
I wanted
. Did I want to stay in our ho
metown or did I want to move
? Did I want to be a housewife and stay at
home mom or did I want to finish
school and get a career
and have my own thing? I didn’t have
answers to any of my
own
questions, let alone anyone else’s.

“
The only thing I was sure about was that I was crazy in love with you and that I always would be and, ironically, that ended up being the most unstable thing of all. I guess I threw myself into planning our perfect wedding because I figured that as long as we were together, the rest would work itself out somehow and that was the only
thing
that gave me peace and made everything else seem
not
so scary.
I was ready to spend the rest of my life
with you, filling in the blanks and everything else was
wait
and see.”

Brandon looks like I just punched him in the gut.

Neither of us speaks for a long time, we just sit there staring at each other. I have a compulsion to reach out and take his hands and tell him that everything will be ok. But it’s not ok. Nothing about this whole situation is ok.

I’m mad and sad and completely at a loss.

Brandon finally speaks, “I’m so sorry, Charity, you have no idea. I should have said something. I should have stayed.
I should have given you a chance to explain back then.
”

He honestly looks close to tears. I wish I could think of something to say but I can’t. My mind is still reeling. A long time ago I mentally boxed up my thoughts
and memories
of Brandon and packed it away deep in my mind. Right now it feels like someone dropped a bomb on that box and the contents are scattered in a million pieces and not
hing makes sense. All I
feel is chaos. I’ve spent the better part of
the last three
years trying to move on
and
to let go of the
past but it seems as though all that work and energy has come
unraveled in a single conversation.

I can’t deal with this anymore. I mentally shut the box again and decide to pick up t
he pieces once I’
m alone. Right now, I just need to get out of this situation. It’s claustrophobic.

“It’s
fine
,
it was a long time ago.
We were bo
th young, we both made mistakes,
”
I say, abruptly.

I start the car and merge back onto the freeway.

Without giving him a chance to reply,
I flick on the radio and scan around trying to find something worth listening to before settling on an instrumental channel with jazzy music. Normally it would give me a soothing,
relaxed feel but tonight I d
o
n’
t think anything is going to take the edge off.

Half an hour passes before Brandon speaks again. “Charity
,
do you think you will ever
be able to
forgive me?”

“I already have,” I say
. “It’s been three
years Brandon. I’ve moved on with my life, you have obviously moved on with yours.”

“So
, then,
what now?
Where do we go from here?”

“There’s nowhere to go. You came,
said your piece,
and
I listened. That was th
e deal, remember? It’s over now,
”
I say, frostily.

I know
I will process this whole conversation when I get home
, back
to the saf
ety of my bed but right now it’
s time to put the wall back up and just get this night over with. I feel stupid enough for even getting myself into this situation.
It’
s not accomplishing anything, other than to dig up a lot of feelings
that
I would rather leave buried.

“
That’s it?
After
all that?”
Brandon says, and seems
to be genuinely surprised.

“
What did you expect?
What is this
really
all about? You thought I would just be sitting
here pining away for you?
Get real Brandon. We ha
ve no ties to each other. We’re not together and we’re
not even friends anymore.
Haven’t been for a long, long time.”

I can hear the edge to my voice but can’t seem to curb it.

“As far as I’
ve seen and heard yo
u’re shacked up with some fame hungry, gold digger down in LA
and are quite content to wander through
life only caring about your career, mansion,
and
your
designer clothes.
So why come back and beg to speak with me
? Just to see if I would still be here? Well you came, you have now seen, and as soon as
your visit
is over you can go b
ack with your curiosity satisfied
.”

Half
of
my brain cheers
at my sassy comeback
but the other half feels
a guilty sting
at my harsh words. But I drown
out the naysayer side by reminding myself that I was finally moving on with my life and did not need a giant, Brandon shaped, roadbl
ock.

I also do
not
want
to be turned into tabloid fodder. I can just see it now: “Brandon Hart’s
Ex Obsessed
With
Winning Him Back.” Undoubtedly complete with a very unflattering picture of me from high school that would leave people wondering “how did she even get him in the first place?”

No thank you!

Brandon’s nostrils flare and I can see the h
eat in his eyes. I can tell he’
s biting back his anger. “Fine, if
that’s what you
wanna
think. I won’t try to change your mind
.
But
just for the record, I didn
’t come all this way to see you.
I’m here to see my parents. I have a few weeks before my next project and they asked me to come home and spend some time with family. I’ve avoided this town, even just to visit, since we broke up because just being here makes me go crazy because every single thing reminds me of you. Honestly? I was hoping I wouldn’t see you this week, I was hoping to have a little peace from al
l that. But
then
when I saw you
tonight, I
don’t know, I guess I
figured it meant somethi
ng. That it was
more than just
a
coincidence.”

He pauses to look at me, I try not to
meet his gaze but I can feel him
staring at me.

“
But I can see that you are nothing like the girl I knew. So, you want me to leave you alone, fine. I’ll leave you alone.
”

He folds his arms across his chest and turns his face toward the passenger window.

I feel like I should say something, apologize for my harsh comments but I can’t force myself to speak.

The rest of the car ride is quiet. Each of us seemingly lost in our own thoughts and regrets. We are about five miles from
town when I realize that I don’
t eve
n know where I’
m
supposed to be
taking him
. I hesitate to
break the glassy silence, not wanting to
force us back to reality
,
when there seems to be so much to deal with from the past.

Am I supposed to drop him off and then just go back to my life the way it was before? How can I even think that would happen? It
’
s like everything I knew about life has changed in a matt
er of seconds and my brain can’
t process the information fast enough.

I feel dizzy.

I steal a glance at him. He looks just as miserable as I feel.

“Are you staying with y
our parents?” I finally venture, h
ating the way my voice gets swallowed up by the silence.