Broken Course (9 page)

She smiles again, and I know I won’t be able to budge from the chair even if the building suddenly catches fire. She never even looked at me while she was speaking, but her words hit me harder than any counselors’ ever could.

It’s as if she were speaking directly to me.

For over an hour, I sit, riveted, listening to her recount her years of struggle— from the attempts to end her life to her seclusion from everyone who ever loved her. She doesn’t pull punches or spin it in a way that places her in a positive light. She gives every gory detail. She speaks about her emotional breakdowns, and it’s exhausting just to hear her talk about it. I can’t imagine how she must feel reliving it. But with every word spoken, I can see an invisible weight lifting from her shoulders.

She’s not being broken down—she’s being freed.

For a minute, I’m so jealous of this woman’s strength and her ability to overcome everything she’s been through, that it makes me ill.

"So that’s my story." She finishes with a loud sigh. "Just so there is no confusion…I’m still that person. I’m just a better version with better resources and better support. I’m not alone anymore, and neither are you. Every single day, good people do bad things. And I’m no different. The hardest part about life is putting one foot in front of the other to move past that pain. But I swear to you, inch by inch, you will get past it. It doesn’t disappear, but it’s no longer staring you in the face. You’ll see—just like I did."

I watch in awe as a single tear drips down her chin. She nods to the doctor in the corner, who’s beaming with pride. He attempts to approach her, but she waves him off. Smiling, she tucks her head low against her chest and walks from the building.

I swallow hard as my eyes frantically race around the room. What the fuck just happened? My mind is left spinning. How did that woman know exactly the words I needed to hear? I only know one thing—just like her, I want to own my regret.

I grab my phone from my pocket.

"Leo." Erica’s sob comes across the line.

My voice is shaking, but I finally manage to say the one phrase I hope will release me too, "I need help."

"I NEED you to give me a creepy factor of one to ten."

"Oh God, Leo. This does not sound good," Erica says with suspicious eyes, placing her coffee on the table.

"Remember the woman I saw speak at Foundations?"

"Of course."

"Yeah. Well, her name is Sarah Erickson and I have a date with her tonight," I rush out with an unexpected pang of guilt.

"Excuse me?" Erica says, leaning in close. "I thought she was a severely broken, homely woman."

"Turns out, she is a broken, smoking-hot bombshell with a wicked sense of humor." I shrug and lean back in my chair.

"You are out of your mind. Don’t be that dick who takes her out because…well, because you are freaking weirdo," she whisper-yells, very aware of her surroundings—just like I taught her to be. I try to cover my prideful smile, but she snaps at me, "Don’t you dare grin at me. What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t be with her."

"Slow down. I’m not trying to marry her or anything," I quickly reply.

"Don’t say that! That’s worse!" she screeches at a decibel that is barely even audible.

"Um…okay?"

"Those are the ones you end up falling in love with. It’s karma’s way of punking you," she snaps, annoyed with my inability to follow her invisible flow chart. "Jesus, look at me and Slate. I didn’t want to be with him either, but now, I’m married and five months pregnant." She rubs her stomach with the smallest tilt of her lips.

I know she’s trying to give me a stern lecture on why I shouldn’t pursue Sarah, but that brief moment where she reminds herself of her own happiness is overwhelming to me.

"Shit, you’re grinning again," she mumbles, recognizing that this is a lost cause.

"I’m going to be grinning for a while. You may want to start getting used to it." I glance down at her rounded stomach and swallow hard to fight the emotion.

"Slate won’t let me name him Leo," she whispers.

"Oh, thank Christ for that," I respond on a laugh, but the sentiment cuts me to the quick.

"I would though," she states firmly.

I have to wave her off before this conversation gets too heavy. She can’t name that baby Leo—he deserves more than that.

"So. Sarah Erickson? One to ten on the creepy scale?" I change the subject back.

"Twenty-nine," she answers frankly without missing a single beat.

"I guess that’s better than thirty."

"It was a one-to-ten scale, jerk. Twenty-nine is terrible," she bites out, but the concern on her face is endearing.

"I went out with her last weekend and gave her food poisoning."

"Food poisoning, huh? The second best gift you can give a date…besides an STD."

"Your jokes are getting worse. Slate isn’t helping your sense of humor." I take the last sip of my coffee.

"Leo, I love you." She becomes serious and reaches out to grab my hand. But as usual, her touch makes me retreat. "We have enough shit in our lives without adding broken souls into the mix. You need Suzy Normal who can remind you what something real feels like."

I’m sure she is probably right, but there is a woman I can’t stop thinking about who I bet would disagree. Erica knows me better than anyone, and while I’m sure she is just trying to protect my best interests, she has no idea what she is talking about.

"She’s not like us. She’s honest—bluntly so. It’s
inspiring
to watch her rise above all the bullshit," I grit out.

"Holy. Shit. You really like this girl," she announces, obviously surprised.

"I don’t know. I guess. It’s just… She’s different."

"That’s lame and cliché, Leo" She calls me on my attempt not to elaborate, making me laugh.

I shrug. "It’s also the truth."

"I really don’t think this is a smart idea. Is she aware that you know about her past?"

"Not yet," I answer uncomfortably. That is the part I’m most worried about. If someone knew all my shit right off the bat, you can bet that I’d tuck tail and run. I have a sneaking suspicion Sarah might be the same way.

"Well, if you are adamant about seeing this woman, you might want to tell her sooner than later."

"Yeah, I know. Seriously though, Erica. How crazy of an idea is this? I like her despite her past, and in some sick way, I’m hoping that, if I can overlook the things she did, maybe she will be able to do the same with me."

"Leo, that is not a healthy attitude to start a relationship on. I know you respect her for the things she said that day at Foundations, but I don’t like this pedestal you have her on."

"I agree with you…to a point. I’m not going out with Sarah because of some misplaced feelings. I ran into her randomly on the street. I didn’t even know who she was when I first approached her. But yes, when I did recognize her it, piqued my interest. However, I asked her out for the same reasons I would ask any woman out."

"Because she’s hot," Erica laughs.

"No, smartass. Well, yes, but I meant that she’s funny and interesting too."

"Okay, fine. I won’t say anything else about it, but please be careful. I don’t want you to get in over your head until you really get to know her. Just because you know her past doesn’t mean you know anything about who she is today."

"Yeah, okay." I let it go. She’s right even though I hate to admit it. "Let’s get out of here. I’m supposed to pick her up in a few hours and I have to get some work done first. When are you heading back to Indy?"

"As soon as Slate finishes up at the gym. I’m going shopping for a little bit until he’s done."

"Take Johnson with you, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She rolls her eyes but nods. "All right. I expect to meet this Sarah chick soon."

"Now look who’s rushing into something." I laugh and guide her out of the coffee shop.

"UM, WHAT do you mean he said he is going to kiss you in his bed tonight? That’s a little cocky, don’t you think?" my best friend, Casey, asks while flopping down on my bed, watching me apply my makeup in front of my full-length mirror.

"Nah. You’d have to meet him to really understand. It’s absolutely presumptuous, but when he says it, it’s not obnoxious."

"I’ll have to take your word for it, because he sounds like a douche."

"Stop!" I turn to face her. "Don’t say that. I kind of like him. He’s easy."

"Yeah, well. It sounds like he thinks you’re easy too," she laughs, but I give her an evil eye that makes her hush.

"Oh, shut up. I’m not kidding, Case. It’s odd how comfortable I feel around him." I turn back to the mirror to finish up with my mascara.

"You think it’s because he’s the first man you’ve allowed to get to know ‘new’ Sarah." She throws a pair of air quotes in my direction.

"I don’t know. Maybe." I let out a resigned sigh. I have no idea why Leo has me letting my guards down—I just know that it feels good. "He doesn’t know anything about my past, so it’s easy to pretend that I don’t have one when I’m with him. There’s no pressure. I can be whoever the hell I want instead of who he expects me to be." I catch her sad eyes through the mirror. "Don’t give me that look." When I spin around to face her, she immediately looks away.

"I wish you didn’t have to feel like that," she says apologetically.

I know where she’s headed with this, but it’s not a stroll down memory lane I want to take tonight.

"So, is there something wrong with the way I am now?" I ask with a teasing smile.

"No!" She jumps up defensively. She knows this is a trigger for me, but tonight, I’m using it to my advantage just to mess with her. However, I’m apparently transparent because she calls my bluff. "It’s just that you don’t drink wine or read dirty books anymore. That was, after all, the foundation of our relationship." She grins.

"Yeah, but now, we eat massive chocolaty desserts and watch trashy TV. I think that might trump wine night." I stand up to grab my perfume off the dresser.

"You’re right. This arrangement might be better, although my jeans probably disagree."

We both burst out laughing, only to sober when I see the clock.

"Shit! He should be here soon," I announce, nervously smoothing down the long black-and-white maxi dress I picked for tonight. It has spaghetti straps and shows off a fair amount of cleavage. Emma would be proud. I’m not sure where we are going, but I know I want to look presentable…at least on the outside.

"What are you going to do about Mr. Cocky tonight? You getting in
his bed
?" She perks a questioning eyebrow.

"I have no idea," I sigh.

"It’s been a while since you were with someone, huh?" she asks jokingly, but for a split second, a flashback hits me so hard that it steals not only my breath, but also my every thought.

Seven Years Earlier…

"GET OUT!" I scream.

"Jesus, calm down!" Brett pleads, dodging the plate I just hurled across the room.

"Why the fuck would you do this?" I yell. The pain in my chest amplifies the anger in my tone.

"Because it’s our anniversary. Because I love you. Because I fucking miss you. Take your pick." He swings his arms out to his sides in frustration.