Love in Between (2 page)

“Lily, my baby, I was so worried about you. Where have you been?”

I looked at her with a stern look, and I instantly felt sick to my stomach. “It doesn’t matter where I’ve been. The only thing that matters is I’m gone and out of this family forever. What you did to me, by not telling me about Brynn and Hunter, is unforgivable. You helped me plan my wedding, knowing he was fucking my little sister. You were going to let me marry a cheater and a liar. What kind of mother are you?!” I started to cry.

“Lily, please, you have to understand that I was trying to protect you, and he promised me that it was over,” she said as she walked towards me with her arms out.

“Don’t you dare take another step!” I snapped. “I’m nothing like you, and I won’t live my life like you either.”

I walked out the front door, stopped, and turned around, staring at my mother as she stood there, crying. “This family is
dead
to me. Tell my little sister that I hope both her and Hunter live happily ever after. Have a nice life, mother.” I threw my suitcases in the back of my Explorer, got in, and started the truck as my mother came running out of the house after me.

“Please, Lily, I’m sorry; don’t do this to us. You’re going to regret it.”

“The only thing I regret is ever being a part of this lying, cheating family!” I spat as I peeled out of the driveway and headed as far away from this place as I could. The only thing I knew was that I couldn’t stay in Seattle anymore. It was time for me to disappear and start a new life.

I drove for about three hours until my gas light came on. I had reached Portland, Oregon. I pulled into a gas station and opened my purse to get my credit card; then I froze when I saw the two tickets to Aruba, which was supposed to be my honeymoon. We were supposed to leave tomorrow because Hunter couldn’t get two weeks off the day after the wedding. I filled up the Explorer with gas and drove down the road to a mini outdoor mall. I took out my camera and decided I was going to take pictures of every place I stopped. I wanted to make a scrapbook of the journey to my new life. I took pictures of the shops, the signs, and the people all around. It was a beautiful, warm sunny day, and I noticed a café with tables that sat outside. I wasn’t really hungry, but it had been several hours since I last ate. I took a seat at an open table and then placed my order with the waitress. I was looking around, taking in the fresh air, when I noticed a couple sitting a few tables over from me. They were holding hands, and laughing. The guy was hot; there was no doubt about that, and his girlfriend was very pretty. There was something about his smile that struck me in more places than one. They looked happy, and from what I could see, they were very much in love. I grabbed my camera and snapped a picture of them.

I ate lunch, had a couple glasses of iced tea, and reached for my purse to pay the bill. The tickets fell out and onto the cement floor. I reached down, picked them up, and held them in my hand, staring at them. I left some money on the table and walked over to the happy couple that I’d been watching since I sat down.

“Hi, I know this is weird, but I have two airline tickets to Aruba. The flight leaves tomorrow, and I want you to have them.”

They both looked at me like I was crazy.

“You aren’t going?” the woman asked in confusion.

“No, actually, something came up, so my fiancé and I aren’t able to go. I don’t want them to go to waste, and you two look like you would enjoy Aruba together.”

She looked at him, and they both looked at me. “Let me pay you for the tickets,” the guy said as he reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet.

“No, please, just take them. I don’t want your money. Just promise me that you’ll have a good time,” I said as I put the tickets on the table and started to walk away.

“Wait!” the girl yelled. “Thank you.” She smiled.

“Consider it a gift, and just pay it forward someday.” I smiled as I walked back to my Explorer.

1

One Year Later
…

I inserted the key into the lock and unlocked the door. I slowly turned the handle and lightly pushed the door open as I stepped inside my new apartment. I set my suitcases down and took a deep breath. I flipped the light switch on the wall next to the door and looked around. The furniture that I ordered online had arrived, and it was scattered all over the room. I rented this apartment based off the pictures showcased on the internet. I walked around and inspected the place. The light gray walls and white moldings gave the place a classic look. The eggplant color couch and loveseat I bought matched perfectly, as did the glass coffee table and end tables. I walked down the hall and into my bedroom. I flipped the light switch and stared at the empty space. The bedroom set was being delivered tomorrow. It was late, and I was exhausted as I drove fourteen hours straight from Portland to Santa Monica. My Explorer was filled with boxes, but they would have to wait until the morning. At that moment, I just wanted to feel the comfort of my new couch.

I spent the last year in Portland when my car broke down, and it took two weeks to get it repaired. I guess you could say the place grew on me, and I really didn’t have any other place to go. I rented an apartment, took a job as a freelance photographer for the local newspaper, and I was a substitute teacher for a few months at one of the local elementary schools. How did I end up in Santa Monica? The local newspaper shut down, and my gig as a substitute teacher had ended when the regular teacher came back from maternity leave. Giselle called me one day and said that her aunt Chris, the principal of an elementary school in Santa Monica, was looking for a long-term substitute teacher and that I should call her. So, I did, and that’s how I ended up here.

Giselle and Gretchen live in Santa Monica, and I was excited to be living near them again. They’re twins, and we’ve been best friends for as long as I could remember. I met them when I was six years old, when they moved into the house next door. Their father was an investment banker, and their mother was a model in her younger days. Giselle and Gretchen followed in their mother’s footsteps. With their 5’10” height and size 6 bodies, they were made to be models. I was envious of their deep brown eyes and their long, straight brown hair. Our mothers used to call us the three musketeers because we were inseparable. We did everything together, and we were always there when the other one needed us. The twins were my rock, and no matter what exotic place their job took them to, we talked every day.

***

I opened my eyes and was startled by the music I heard, coming through the wall. I grabbed my phone and looked at the time; it was 3:00 a.m. I had been sleeping for about two hours, which had become the norm for me since I caught Hunter and Brynn together in the church. My mind’s on permanent rewind, and every time I closed my eyes, that scene played over and over again. I got up from the couch, grabbed my purse, and walked to the bathroom. I wanted to wash my face, but I forgot that all my towels and washcloths were packed away in one of the boxes that sat in the Explorer. I took the brush out of my purse and ran it through my long, blonde hair. I searched for a rubber band and pulled my hair into a high ponytail. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help but notice the bags underneath my blue-gray eyes. I really needed a shower, so I put on my shoes, grabbed my keys, and headed towards the Explorer. As I stepped out into the hallway of my apartment, I stood there and stared at the door from which the blaring music was coming from. I shook my head, rolled my eyes, and headed to my SUV for the box that was labeled:
BATHROOM
.

I lifted the box out of the Explorer, and then carried it to the door of the apartment building. I set the box down for a minute while I opened the door with my key. As I was inserting the key, the door opened, and I stumbled back, nearly being knocked down.

“I’m sorry, miss, I didn’t see you there,” he apologized.

He looked at me and then at the box on the ground. “Are you moving in?” he asked as he looked at his watch.

“Yes, I just got here a few hours ago, and I haven’t had a chance to get the boxes from my truck,” I answered.

“It’s nice to meet you; I’m Sam,” he said as he held out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Lily. It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Let me grab that box for you,” he offered as he bent down to pick it up.

“No, that’s alright, I’ve got it,” I said as I put my hand in front of him.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Let me carry the box for you since I almost knocked you on your ass with the door.” He smiled.

It was the middle of the night, and I was arguing with a hot guy over a box. “Fine; my apartment’s right there,” I said as I pointed to my door.

Sam looked at me and smiled. “Well, look at that; looks like we’re neighbors.”

I opened the door for him as he stepped inside my apartment and set the box down on the floor. “So, you’re the one playing the loud music at 3:00 a.m.?” I asked.

“Sorry about that,” he said as shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll tell Lucky to keep it down.”

“I’d appreciate that. Thanks for the help with the box,” I said as I shut the door.

I spent the next hour unpacking the box and putting away the towels. I organized all my bathroom items and then took a hot, relaxing bubble bath. My hands began to wander as it had been a while since my battery operated boyfriend and I had a date. As soon as I was finished, I got out of the tub, wrapped a towel around me, and walked into the living room where my suitcases were. I opened one suitcase and pulled out a pair of jean shorts and a navy blue tank top. I grabbed my phone from the couch and looked at the time; it was 6:00 a.m. Giselle and Gretchen were coming over to help me unpack around 8:00 a.m., and the bedroom set was being delivered between 9:00 a.m. and 11:00 a.m. I blow-dried my hair then put it back up in a high ponytail. I put on some light makeup and then decided to go for some coffee.

I stepped out of my apartment at the same time Sam did his. We both looked at each other, and he smiled. “Don’t you ever sleep?” he asked.

“I should be asking you the same thing.” I smiled back.

Sam was hot; there was no question about it. He stood around six feet tall with a great muscular body, sandy brown hair, and brown eyes. He definitely fit the Santa Monica image.

“Where are you off to so early in the morning?” he asked.

It really wasn’t any of his business, but he was being nice, so I felt the neighborly thing to do was to be nice in return.

“I’m off to find some much needed caffeine,” I replied as I stepped out of the building door, and he followed behind me.

“Me too,” he said. “I went to make some coffee, but the bag was empty. I hate it when Luke doesn’t tell me we’re out of coffee.”

“Luke?” I asked.

“Yeah, he’s my BF and roommate. Hey, would you like to go get some coffee together?” he asked with a smile.

I studied him. Sam seemed like a really nice guy, and he was gay, so I didn’t have to worry about him hitting on me.

“Sure, I’ll go with you, but we have to make it quick; my girlfriends are coming over to help me unpack.”

I hopped into his truck, and we drove down the road to a coffee house called ‘Brewsters.’ We walked inside, and Sam was instantly greeted by the girl behind the counter.

“Morning, Sam! Who’s your friend?” she asked as she was wiping down the counter.

“Morning, Jamie! This is Lily; she just moved in next door. Lily, this is my cousin, Jamie; she owns this lovely coffee house.”

Jamie wiped her hand dry and held it out to me as I gently shook it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lily. Are you new in town?”

“Yes, I just moved here from Portland last night,” I replied.

“Great, well welcome to Santa Monica and to Brewsters! What can I get you?” she asked.

“I’ll just have a large black coffee.” I smiled. I looked over at Sam and found him staring at me. “What?” I asked.

“That’s how Luke drinks his coffee. I don’t understand how you can drink it with no sugar or cream. We argue about it all the time.”

“Everyone has different coffee taste, Sam,” Jamie said.

“Let me pay for your coffee,” I said to Sam.

“It’s on the house.” Jamie smiled as she handed us our coffees. “Cheap-ass, Sam, over here never pays. Consider it a ‘welcome to Santa Monica gift.’”

“Thanks, Jamie!” Sam smiled as he grabbed a bag of coffee from the shelf. “I’m taking a bag home; I owe you!”

Jamie rolled her eyes. “He owes me every week.” She laughed.

“Thank you, Jamie. It was nice to meet you.” I smiled as I held up my coffee cup.

“It was to meet you too!”

I walked out of Brewsters and climbed into the truck. “Your cousin is really nice,” I said.

“Yeah, she’s more like my sister. She came to live with me and my family when she was eight years old. Her mom and dad were drug dealers who got caught, and they were sent to prison.”