Give Me Yesterday (29 page)

My breath is sucked from me when I remember how it felt to realize it was too late. That no matter how hard I yanked on the wheel to avoid them, my car would flip and crush them anyway. I remember the moment I came to after a medically induced coma, days later, in the hospital after countless surgeries, to successfully remove the piece of metal from my skull and the first words out of my mouth were,
Please God, let them be okay.

Turns out, they were not fucking okay.

I killed them.

I killed a man and his sweet, baby girl.

In front of his wife. In front of her mother.

Fucking sick!

When Ashley came to see me, I cried and cried and it had nothing to do with the raging shit-storm of a never-ending migraine that possessed my brain. She regarded me with her own tearstained cheeks.

You killed them
, she’d said.

You slaughtered that woman’s entire family
, she’d said.

I’d begged her to forgive me. Tried to explain to her that it was an accident. And still, she told me she would never be able to get over knowing I’d killed a man
and
a little girl—accident or not. That night she dropped her ring, along with my dreams, into my lap.

As I pop my eyes back open and stare at the taunting yellow wall, I choke back a tortured wail that threatens to rip straight from my soul. Scrambling, I locate my phone and try for the hundredth time to reach my Tori. To make her understand.

When the line picks up on the third ring, I launch into begging. But drunk giggles in the background are all that can be heard.

“Tori,” I say loudly in hopes she’ll hear me and listen. “Please forgive me, baby. I had no idea you were the woman—the woman I took everything from. You have to believe me when I say there was no time to react. I tried. For fuck’s sake I tried but I couldn’t get away from them in time.”

Her blubbering to herself gets softer and softer until I soon hear her running a bath. I clutch the phone to my ear and quietly listen to the sounds that are her. All of her makeup is here. Her hair shit. Her bathing products. Hell, even her toothbrush is here.

I stand on shaky feet, the phone still desperately attached to my ear as I search out a suitcase. After I unzip it, I toss it onto the bed and begin loading it with the things she’ll need. I toss a couple of pairs of shoes in the suitcase but I plan on holding the rest for ransom. At least until she talks to me.

“Why?” I hear her sob in the background and I collapse onto the bed at hearing her voice again.

Because…life’s not fair.

My heart aches in my chest.

As she begs God to leave her the fuck alone, I am jerked into the gutting memory from hours earlier at the cemetery.

“Are you happy now?” she screams up at the sky. “I’m fucking done! You can’t hurt me anymore, because I have nothing left to lose.”

Me. You have me.

I reach for her. “Tori, I love you. We can work this out. Please. You promised you’d never leave me.”

She jerks her head toward me and murders me with her gaze. Her bloodshot eyes are hate-filled and my entire being crushes from one simple look. “And you promised you’d never hurt me.”

The smashed daffodils are thrown at my feet as she stalks away from me, her wails nearly waking the dead. And I stare after her, arms outstretched, begging for her to come back to me.

When her crying can no longer be heard and only my sobbing is left, I stand on shaky feet and stumble my way back to the car. I climb in and sit there for minutes or hours or fucking eons for all I know.

I found the one woman who understands my pain. Who completes me in every sense of the word. And I killed her goddamned family.

Life isn’t fair, Mother.

Life is a cruel fucking bitch.

Swiping moisture away from my swollen eyes beneath my glasses, I zip up the suitcase and head for the living room. I set it down and stride over to my bookcase. Thumbing through the paint swatches bearing
X
s, I snatch one up and scribble on the back.

Tori,

Forgive me, please.

Life is fucking worthless without you.

Give me yesterday and I’ll give you forever.

I love you more than I will ever be able to express.

Chase

I stuff it into the suitcase on top of her makeup shit and zip it back closed. The drive to her place is a blur and before I know it, I’m walking by the front desk where I’m waved in since Tori put me on the permanent visitor’s list. I’m a little surprised she hasn’t had me taken off of it yet. Now, I’m standing in front of her door.

It’s quiet on the other side. I want to beat down the door and demand she forgives me, but I know better. My Tori’s too strong to go down without a fight.

And I don’t want to fight with her. I want to love her.

I lean the suitcase against the door and text her telling her it’s there.

Please, God, let her come back to me.

A week without Tori is like an eternity in hell.

I can’t eat. Or sleep. Or fucking breathe for that matter.

Cort and Penelope have both come by with food. Advice. A shoulder to cry on.

But it’s not enough. I need her.

This morning was fucking torture dragging myself out of my bed, away from her scent that still lingers on my sheets, to go to group. Honestly, I’m holding on to some shred of hope that she’ll actually show up. That she’ll give me a chance to hug her.

I want to comfort her.

Kiss her.

Tell her how sorry I am.

I want to make love to her—to have my soul attach itself to hers forever.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Bill chuckles when I enter the room.

My eyes scan the room—searching for my blue-eyed angel—and eventually fall on her empty seat. The coffee I sucked down earlier without breakfast grumbles in my stomach, threatening to reappear at any moment.

“Hey,” I finally manage to say to him before walking dejectedly to the podium.

All eyes are on me as I rest my elbows on the wood. I lift my gaze to see them all wearing matching frowns. They know it has to do with Tori. I can see it written all over their faces. Little do they know, it has
everything
to do with Tori.

She is my everything.

Was.

“Shit,” I hiss under my breath and run my fingers through my dirty hair. Bathing is a chore these days.

“Chase, is everything okay?” Belinda asks from behind me.

I turn to her with a frown and shake my head. “No. No, it isn’t.”

She pulls me in for a hug and I let out a ragged sigh.

“Maybe you should let it all out. We’re your friends here,” she reminds me when she lets me go.

I nod and turn back to their expectant, caring faces.

“Guys, I fucked up.”

They remain silent and wait for me to continue.

“It was me. I killed her family.” I gasp, shocking myself at my revelation. “How could we not know? How could God let us fall in love only to rip us apart?”

The room is a buzz of chatter before Nate speaks up. “Dr. Monroe, you didn’t know. Did you?”

I snap my head up to him. “Fuck no! I spent the last decade looking for the woman who witnessed the most devastating thing a mother and wife should ever have to go through. For ten goddamned years I have been searching for her to tell her I’m so sorry. Turns out, Tori didn’t want to be found. She wanted to carve out a new life for herself which didn’t involve heartache. Unfortunately, I found her. But not as the woman I’d been searching for since the accident. I found her instead as my soulmate. My lover. My angel. When I took her to the grave—to tell her what I’m grieving for, the heavens ripped open and tore us apart.”

Jerking off my glasses, I swipe away rogue tears.

“I love her and it’s all a cruel fucking joke from that bitch called fate.”

One by one, they all stand and herd over to me. The next hour goes by in a haze of hugs, words of advice, and prayers. These people, my friends, offer their support in a way no others can. I clutch on to them and frantically bandage the hemorrhaging wound in my heart.

“Chase,” Claudia finally says. “Fate brought you two together, through everything. Do you really think she’ll tear you apart? I know your story will be a happy one. You and Tori both deserve a happy ending. And I believe that the happiness that lies in each other, won’t be found in any other person. She’ll come around, Chase. You’re worth the heartache and pain. I just know she’ll see that too.”

I kiss her graying hair on top of her head and hug her fiercely. “I sure hope so.”

I
t’s Sunday. The day I would normally visit my family. The day after I would usually go to group. The day that represents a whole week without Chase.

I drive around the neighborhood where the cemetery is, but I can’t bring myself to go inside. So, I keep driving. I’m not sure where I’m going, practically letting the car steer itself. I end up in a residential area that is all too familiar to me and I silently yell at my subconscious for being such a hag. Why would she bring me here? It hurts her too.

I avoid looking at the place on the side of the road where a little memorial sits in remembrance of the accident and the lives lost. However, instead of passing by, I turn on my blinker and slowly pull into the driveway on my right. I park in front of a beige house, a typical cookie cutter home in a quiet neighborhood, with the exception of the busy street out front.

My parent’s cars indicate that they are home and I don’t stop to think, I just get out of the car and walk to the brown front door. Awkwardness makes me hesitate when I realize I don’t know if I should walk in or ring the doorbell. I settle on the bell because I wouldn’t want to scare them. One long, manicured finger hovers over the round little button and I stare intently at the action as though it is the most important thing I’ll ever do.

Procrastination is an art, and despite my work ethic and dedication to my job, I’m quite talented in putting off my personal tasks.
Suck it up, Larkin. Stop being such a baby. You eat sharks for lunch in the courtroom and you’re afraid of a conversation with Mom and Dad?
Okay. I’ve got this. Okay. I take a deep breath and push. The sound pings inside and I hear shuffling footsteps.

The door swings open and my mom stands there, her blonde curls bouncing around her chin, the same ocean blue eyes. Basically a reflection of what I’ll look like in twenty years. Except her eyes and mouth are bracketed with laugh lines, and I don’t see those creasing my face in the future. Her face lights up when she sees me, and she immediately throws her arms around me.

I close my eyes and soak in the warmth, the smells of my childhood, chocolate and spice. I instantly know that I need this now. If I gained anything from my experience with Chase, it’s that I miss my mom and dad. My mother leans back, a small frown on her face, and uses her thumbs to wipe underneath my eyes. I didn’t know I’d started crying, and when matching tears start rolling down my mom’s cheeks, guilt overcomes me.

“Welcome home, baby girl.” The words wash over me and I take a fearful step toward the door. I left a few days after the accident, and haven’t been back since. I was so busy running from my own grief that I forgot about the mourning mother and grandmother I let behind. Instead, I gave her one more person to grieve over.