Crashing Souls (23 page)

“The same dish, Blue? Really?”

I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m predictable.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re the furthest thing from predictable. It’s your fear that’s got you saying that.”

Nailed. Right on the head. But he didn’t need to know that.

I dug in, too nervous to say anything else. Dexter stared at me. I didn’t mind his eyes on me. I wish I knew, for the millionth time, what was going on inside of his mind.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” I asked. The scene around us fell from my sight and in its place was the restaurant we’d first sat in, when I begged my heart to stop pounding mercilessly.

“I’m actually not that hungry,” he said.
History is certainly repeating itself.

I
ate slowly, not sure what the next step would be for us. Would I say goodbye? Would he let me? And if he did, then what?

“I have something to ask you, Blue,” he whispered, leaning forward again. This time I leaned in too.

“What’s that?”

“Were you happy? You wanted me to ask you in a few years. And, frankly, I’m dying to know.”

It was my turn to laugh. “I don’t even think happy was the right word. I was…effervescent. I think that’s the best way to put it.” I put my fork down, and almost immediately, Antonio was swiping the plates away.

“Dessert, Ms. Cruz?” He asked me but eyed Dexter.

He always asked me and I always said no. But tonight, I dared to try.

“Mm, cheesecake?” Antonio nodded with a smile.

“Dessert wine also?” When he asked, although innocently, my mood plummeted. All of the things I was determined to ignore while I was with Dexter surfaced.

“Just coffee. Two, please,” Dexter answered, saving me from the embarrassment of a simple ‘no, thank you’.

Antonio, none the wiser, walked away.

“I’m sober,” I blurted out. “Have been for seven years. It’s difficult, feeling everything and not knowing what to do with all of that pressure. I’m alone, so sometimes it’s hard. But, I’m better now. It’s easier now. I run. I, uh, don’t frequent AA meetings. They tend to make me want to drink again. It’s…pressuring.” I was babbling.
Shut the hell up already.
I cleared my throat.

“You’re a strong woman, Noa. I never doubted it for a second.”

I stared at him the way I used to, openly and honestly, without any reservations.

But you did. Which is why we’re sitting here. Strangers.

“What are we doing, Dexter?”

“
I’m making it up to you.” He said the words too easily and it pissed me off. It wasn’t fair that I was sitting in front of him, my world up in flames, and he, smoother than smooth with laughter in his eyes. Even after all of these years, he was it. And I hated it.

“What exactly are you making up for? Lost time? Breaking my heart? Leaving me when I needed you most?” I stood, tossing my napkin on the table. “This time, history will
not
repeat itself. Don’t follow me. Don’t ruin what I’ve made for myself. God knows you’ve already ruined me enough.”

I ran out, not stopping until I reached the end of the block. They’d bill me. They always did. But if I stood in there any longer, I’d be begging at his feet. And I’d spent too much time building myself up to break right back down again. An hour in his presence and I was already resorting back to my dramatic tendencies.

“Noa!” I heard him calling out my name as he ran up beside me, and I cried out in frustration. It was too fresh in my memories, him calling out my name and me turning too quickly, the sharp pain of hitting my head before the fall.

“What do you want?” I yelled, ignoring the peoples’ stares. “I can’t
do
this again.”

“Why the hell not?” He reached me, not touching me. I would crumble if he did.

“I left you in the past. I moved on. We didn’t work out for a reason. Why can’t we leave it at that?” I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep them from getting too cold.

“We didn’t work out because I was fucking scared. I was eighteen!” He folded his arms across his chest. “And you haven’t moved on. Neither have I. There is no
moving on
.”

“But you have, Dexter. You haven’t been alone.” I walked away from him. He continued to follow me and I wanted to scream.

“
You have no right to throw that in my face. You left! What was I supposed to do?”

He was right. It wasn’t fair. But I didn’t care.

“You were supposed to never have left me,” I sobbed, angrily wiping my tears. “We’re here because of you.” Years of anger and hurt and love surfaced. I felt like I was drowning all over again.

Love was, after all, a game of sink or swim. Some days I’d been swimming, loving every moment of it. Others, I was drowning in the enormity of it.

“Noa, you almost died. Let’s not forget that. We were kids. What the fuck did we know about life?” He grabbed my hand, stopping me from walking. He was reading my mind and I wanted him to stop. I needed him to leave me alone. I couldn’t think around him.

“Exactly. We were kids. Now we’re not. So let’s let this thing go and dismiss it for the mistake it was.” I ignored the way my hand fit in his. All that time and it still felt like his palm was destined to press against mine.

“You were not a mistake. This was not a mistake.” He pulled me close and, despite my trying to wriggle out of his grip, held onto me. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. I’ll follow you. But I cannot, and will not, let you leave me again. I’ve been so lost without you, Blue.”

I ignored my tears. “We fell too hard, Dexter. Hell, we fell so hard, we crashed and burned.”

“Somebody taught me that it doesn’t make you any less meant for me.”

Chapter
25

I
rounded the kitchen island, two warm mugs in hand. Dexter Andrews was in my apartment. His suit jacket was hanging from the vintage rack I’d hung mine on every day. I was lost trying to find the transition from the boy I loved to the man who was in front of me. He was seated on my love seat, and both of us were shell-shocked. I was pretty sure my ears were ringing from the explosion.

“Here you go,” I said, handing him a mug and sitting beside him. I faced him and tucked my leg under my bottom.

“Your place looks like you.” Oddly enough, I knew what he meant.

“I wonder what yours looks like.”

“Empty,” he said after taking a sip of coffee. “I’m in Everett now. Once I hit the East Coast, I couldn’t go back to middle-of-nowhere America. And I didn’t quite like the feel of the East, so I opted to try out the West. Ended up finding a decent job near Everett, and it isn’t too far from Seattle.” He held his cup in both hands and glanced at me. Dexter. Always the adult.

We were quiet for a few moments. What were the questions I was supposed to be asking? They weren’t coming to me. Or maybe there were so many of them that they were like a group of hippos trying to fit through a small door. Or a keyhole. I started with an easy one.

“How’s Ralph?” Although I hadn’t thought of him in years, I missed him.

“Very married, actually. I hadn’t expected it, but it’s hilarious to make fun of him after all of these years.” He paused, looking into his cup. “He asks about you often. He was hurt when you left, too.”

I
nodded. The only person who hadn’t minded was Tim. I was sure he loved being on his own again, not having to worry about locking up his liquor cabinet. He claimed to be sober, but I knew after mom came around a few more times, he’d fallen off the wagon. She could manipulate him that way.

“It’s harder than I thought, sitting here, being strangers,” he whispered, setting his cup down on my coffee table. “I always thought we’d see each other and everything would fall into place.”

Me too.

Why couldn’t we?

Oh, right. Because you broke me.

“It was so easy the first time around. Granted, I made it difficult most days, but you started off with a clean slate. Now, I have no idea how I feel.” I looked away when I said this. If he saw my eyes, he’d see my willingness. He’d see that I wanted to believe it more than it was true.

“I—I feel like I have to tell you this, no matter how crazy you think I am. Remember when we talked about you almost dying and all of that crazy shit?” He placed his elbows on his knees.

“The day I told you about my drinking problem.”

He nodded and turned to look at me.

“The day I died, I went to what I think was…sort of a waiting room for heaven. Maybe I was just dreaming but I died and when I did, I begged the Angel of Death, the Grim Reaper, to send me back. Back to you. Except, you weren’t Noa. It was your soul that I begged to be back with. And it made so much sense after you told me you’d died and came back the same day as me. And that you felt so different when you woke up. Look, I know this sounds crazy, but that’s why Ralph held an audition. Because I was looking for you. The day I bumped into you was the luckiest day of my life and the day I left you,
I
was in this…black hole. I didn’t know how to be without you. Once I found out you’d left town, I felt like I’d be in that black hole forever.”

My mouth was open, but I didn’t shut it.

“Which leads me to a few years ago. I held onto you for so long, Blue. You have to believe me. But I was so lonely without you. I ran into someone and she…made me feel better. It was friendship at first and then it became a pleasant affair. I didn’t love her in the real sense, but I held a deep affection for her.” He sat back. “But I had to end it. I kept thinking that I was being unfair to her. She was expecting me to marry her and I never would. I didn’t love her the way a man should love his wife. So I broke it off. And I figured I should be alone.”

He grabbed my hand.

“You see, it’s either going to be you, or I’m going to die alone and hope to catch you in another life. Because no one can even come
close
to you, Noa.”

I pulled my hand back, wrapping both of them around my warm mug. “Was she blonde?”

“What?” he asked chuckling. “No. Rachel was definitely not blonde.”

“Rachel?” I set my cup down. “You’re not talking about…Mouse?”

“Yes, actually.” He smiled lightly. “Mouse.”

“I want to hate her. I really do. But I can’t. She’s sweet.” He nodded, not saying anything else.

“I don’t think you’re crazy. Does that make me crazy?”

He shook his head. The fact that he wasn’t talking worried me. Then he looked up at me with laughter in his eyes.

“No. Want to hear something crazier? When I really stopped to think about it recently, I knew that if I could find you once, find you twice, I could find you again. I just had to let it happen.”

“
You’re always so sure,” I whispered.

“You make it easy for me to be.” I wasn’t sure we were talking about the same person, considering I was a basket case throughout our tumultuous teenage love affair.

His cell phone rang, breaking the moment.

“Speak of the devil,” I said after seeing it was Rachel calling. He cleared his throat and grabbed his phone.

“Sorry. I have to take this. I’ll be right outside.” He stepped out of my apartment, and I couldn’t help wondering why.

He has something to hide.
The evil little gremlin inside whispered the words even as I shook my head. They had something. They deserved their privacy. Especially if Dexter wanted to move forward with me. Not that I was entirely sure I wanted to move forward with him. I groaned. In my perfectly simple little life, this was a mess waiting to happen. And I had to back up, take a deep breath, and walk away.

He
hurt
me. He could do it again. I couldn’t give him that power.

I heard the quiet murmur of his voice and I picked up both mugs, bringing them to the kitchen. On my way back, he’d opened the door slightly and I overheard some of his conversation.

“I love you too, baby,” he said softly. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

He was too busy staring at his phone while he opened the door to see the shock and anger on my face. But once he looked up, his eyes widened and he held out his hands.

“It’s not what you’re thinking, Blue.”

“Too cliché, Dexter.” I clenched my fists. “And stop calling me that. I’m not her anymore!” I wanted to throw something.

“
Just let me explain,” he pleaded, knowing I was getting angry.

“Another cliché?” I grabbed his suit jacket and began pushing him out. “How about you just get the hell out? It’ll save you the trouble of coming up with some creative excuse that’ll suck me back into this mess. Which will end the same way it did seven years ago!”

He was too large for me to effectively push out of the door and I backed up, seething. He was crowding me, and I needed to get away from him. I hadn’t felt emotions like this in a long time. It was too much. I sank down in front of the couch, begging him to leave.

“I’m not going anywhere until you listen to me,” he shouted over the pounding in my head. He threw his jacket down and dialed the number again, this time putting it on speaker.

“Daddy?”

I looked up in astonishment. A little girl’s voice rang through my apartment so clearly, it was like she was there.

“Hi, sweetheart. I’m here with my friend. Remember I told you about her?” His voice held that soft, loving tone again.

“Noa?” she asked with excitement.

“Yes. I found her. Can you believe it?” He was looking over at me with a smile.

The little girl mumbled something happily, but I couldn’t make it out over the constant thrum at my temples.

While my heart was melting at the sound of her laughter, it was breaking all over again. I began to sob. I couldn’t even contort my features in a way that I knew was somewhat attractive, so I hid my face with my hands. I knew if I was ugly crying, this night was going downhill fast.

I wasn’t that vain a woman. But true tears, the kind that came from your soul, they weren’t pretty. The world
could
pretend, but everyone had parts of them that were downright hideous. I cried real tears and they were ugly because they came from the darkest and unresolved parts of me. Parts I’d let lay stagnant for a long time.