Authors: Molli Moran
One Song Away (16 page)
When I wake the next morning, someone is playing a freakin’ rock concert in my head. At least, that’s how it feels when I open my eyes. And the lights? Jeez, I feel like I’m in an interrogation room. Who left my curtains open? Why is the sun so bright? Groaning, I roll over in bed. When I do, I hear a sound like something knocking into the wall, and I gingerly peek to my left. There’s an empty wine bottle next to my pillow.
Wait…wine? Did I drink last night? The last thing I really remember… Rolling over into my pillow, I squint. I remember everyone else drinking margaritas, but I stuck to coffee. Only, judging by my bed companion, I didn’t.
“Fuck.” When I sit up, the room spins crazily. Slamming my eyes shut, I brace my hands on my mattress.
When I’m able to breathe evenly, I let that be victory enough for a few minutes. Slowly, I think back to last night. I remember the sleepover, a karaoke machine… Oh God, why am I getting the feeling I sang eventually? I remember breaking down over Jake and then nothing. What the hell happened? I whimper and force myself to open my eyes. My phone is sitting on my nightstand. I reach for it. It has a pink Post-it note on it. The handwriting on it belongs to Sloane. It simply says: “Check your videos.”
I go through them quickly, skipping past the ones of Jake and me. Sure enough, there’s one of me singing. I’m a good singer…when I’m sober. But when I’m drunk, well, my rhythm and my singing voice are two of the first things to go, judging by this video. I cringe, deleting it, before going to the next one. As soon as I press play, Sloane’s face appears in the frame.
“Good morning, sunshine!” She singsongs the words in a voice that’s pitched just low enough I don’t feel like vomiting. “I wanted to fill you on in last night, since I’m not sure how much you remember.” She winks at me. “You had a little too much to drink, honey. A few too many margaritas, plus a truly impressive amount of wine. The girls and I left around one a.m., after I got you tucked into bed.” She giggles but then sobers. “Anyway, I made sure you got to sleep, then I headed home. I got Brenna to cover your shift at Freshly Ground today, so don’t worry about that. If you need me, I’m at a track meet until noon, but I’m around anytime after that. Love you!”
The video ends. I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry, so I do a bit of both. Then I make myself stand and stagger toward the bathroom. I throw up once, and then stumble into the shower. After turning on the water as hot as I can stand it, I try to wash away last night. By the time I’m dressed, I feel like a human being again. Granted, a very hung-over human being, but it’s a start.
My doorbell rings while I’m waiting for my coffee to brew so I can swallow some aspirin. Adrenaline takes the place of my headache as my primary focus while I struggle with the decision of whether or not to open the door. After a few seconds, I realize that whether it’s Jake, a friend, my mom, or a stranger, hiding and refusing to open the door isn’t really very adult of me.
I don’t check the peephole before I open the door, so when I swing it open, I have no idea what to expect.
“Good morning, Sophie.”
It’s been over two months since the last time I saw Gideon Price, and even though a lot has changed, my reaction to him hasn’t. I immediately start to shut my door in his face, but before I can, he puts a hand against it.
“Wait, please?”
We pause like this, the door half closed. I grit my teeth. What is he doing here? What could he possibly want? How did he even find me? Sure, he knows where my hometown is, but how did he know where I’m living? I’ll strangle whichever family member sold me out to him.
“Gideon.” I hiss his name, peeking around the door frame. “Why should I wait? What could you have to say that’s worth hearing?”
“I…” The door is between us, but I hear him exhale. “I’m
sorry
.”
I tell myself he’s an actor. He knows how to twist words. How to give them the perfect inflection. How to make them have the most impact. Gideon can play the same scene as apologetic or cocky. He floats from emotion to emotion as needed. But
dammit
. He sounds genuine. It’s probably a mistake, but I don’t have the energy to fight with him right now. So I let him, but I’m not happy about it.
Once we’re sitting, he crosses his legs at his ankles and studies me. I let him, even though I want to run to my room and hide under the covers. I feel like shit, but this is the best he’s getting. He doesn’t even deserve this much.
“You were saying?” I’m being a bitch, and I know it, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
Gideon hurt me. I’m still not sure he ever cared. Even though it’s been more than six months, and even though I was over him long before now, I’m still annoyed at him. And having loved Jake since just makes this even worse. Now that I’ve been so close to a good, healthy relationship only to lose it, Gideon reminds me of how far I thought I had come.
He leans forward. “I know you’re wondering why I’m here. Please don’t be mad at your sister. She told me where you were living. We talked for about an hour earlier. I just had to see you.” He frowns. “I have to make things right between us.”
“So you scammed my sister into giving up my address and now you’re here to…what?” I snarl. “Rub salt in my wounds? Isn’t it bad enough that I had to leave Nash? What do you
want
?”
I’ve never seen Gideon blush, but I swear he is now. His entire demeanor is different from what I remember. He’s just as put-together as always, but something has changed. I’m the one watching him now, scrutinizing him, and after a moment, I see it. He isn’t “on.” When I was with him, it was impossible to tell when I was really with
him
. Everything he did was for effect. Magnified. But not now, not this Gideon. He isn’t arrogantly trying to win me back, or make me feel bad for him. He actually seems almost embarrassed.
“I want to apologize.” He spreads his hands out in front of him, palms up. “Look, I know it’s way after the fact, Sophie, but… I feel like I owe you an apology for the way I treated you. For cheating on you.” He winces. “I was an asshole. I
am
an asshole, but I’m working on it.”
“You’re working on it.” Forcing myself to calm down isn’t easy, but I do it. I don’t want to fight with him; we did enough of that during our breakup. I feel like a raw, exposed nerve and I don’t want him to see that.
“Yes.” He’s definitely blushing. “And I know it’s too late to change anything with us. I know that what happened, happened. And if you can’t ever forgive me, then that’s your prerogative. I just had to try.”
I fold my arms across my chest, but I can feel myself slipping. Like always. I should say something, make this easier for Gideon, but I’m not sure I’m ready to be that nice again. Not to him. I let him sweat while I go get a cup of coffee. After a hesitation, I fix a cup for him, too, then deliver it to him, but I’m not in a hurry. I don’t speak until I’ve taken a few drinks.
“So,” I say quietly. “What brought on this great awakening?”
“Honestly?” He rakes a hand through his hair, looking my way. “My agent dropped me. She told me I’m a great actor but that people aren’t thrilled about working with me. Combined with you moving away, I felt kinda lost.” His storm-hued eyes find mine. “You were great to me, Sophie. You were great
for
me. And it’s my own fault for not seeing that until it was too late.”
“Well, I won’t argue there.” I keep my tone level only because his body language, his tone of voice, everything is softer than normal. Less overdone. Either he’s giving the performance of a lifetime, or he means everything he’s saying. And I think he does.
If that’s the case, I don’t want to make him feel any worse than he probably already does about losing his agent. I know that’s a huge blow to his career, and if there’s one thing I always
knew
he cared about, it was his acting.
“I missed you when you left. I don’t know what I was thinking before…maybe that somehow we would find a way to be friends. When I lost you, I knew it was for good.” He blows on his coffee, then sips at it. “But you were a good influence on me, and I guess I didn’t realize how much I needed you. Since then, I’ve felt bad about how we ended.”
I scoot forward until I’m on the edge of my seat, and stare unflinchingly at him. “Gideon Price, if you’re bullshitting me, I
will
castrate you. I have a hangover and I don’t have time to deal with games.”
He laughs. Laughs
loudly
, which makes my head hurt, but it’s a nice, strong sound. “I believe you. You’re fierce enough to do it.” He fixes his gaze on me again. “Seriously, Sophie. I swear to you, I’m being honest with you, which is fucking terrifying, I might add. I keep expecting someone to come give me direction to play the scene differently.” He wipes at his forehead. He’s sweating and…nervous?
I’m still leery, but what the hell. My entire world is in smithereens at my feet, and everything is new and scary at this point. Anything can happen, I guess, even Gideon changing. Nothing is concrete or impossible in this new world. I stand and gesture to my kitchen.
“Come on. Let’s have some breakfast.”
I half-expect him to still be sitting there, but when I look back, he’s standing. I feel self-conscious in my short shorts and hangover hair, but I manage to do what I need to do, regardless. Gideon has seen me naked before, and that’s
never
happening again, so it’s not like there’s really room for embarrassment at this point.
Still, I let my hair swing over my face to hide while I gather eggs and bread, even though the thought of eggs makes me want to vomit again. By the time I’ve popped bread in the toaster, Gideon has the eggs cooking.
“So this is…”
“Weird.”
“Really fucking weird,” I say. The corners of his mouth are tipped upward, and I can’t help but smile in response. He and I used to cook breakfast together any time I stayed over. He always wanted eggs and avocados, but I stuck with toast and yogurt. This morning, toast is about all I can handle. As it pops up, I butter it and slide my two slices onto a plate. Then I refill my coffee while Gideon transfers his fried eggs to a plate, before we sit at my table.
My stomach isn’t exactly over the moon about food, so I eat slowly. I have so many things to say to Gideon, but I don’t know where to start. I can’t quite believe he’s here, in my apartment. Having breakfast with me, claiming to be a changed man.
“I’m sorry you lost your agent,” I finally say.
“Me too.” He sighs, spearing a bite of eggs. “But I mean…maybe it needed to happen. I’m a mess and have been for a long time. I’ve been playing a role for so long that I forgot how to just be…me.”
We snort simultaneously.
“I know. It sounds like bullshit.” He appears to actually be thinking over his words. The old Gideon never would have acknowledged that. Hell, I don’t think the old Gideon even would have
said
that, unless it was for a show.
“It really does.” I prop my chin in my hands as I start on my second piece of toast.
“It isn’t.” His gaze finds mine, and those gray eyes are clear. “I swear it, Sophie. I’m trying to change. And I know it’s a douche move, to come in and do the whole making apologies thing to make yourself feel better, but I genuinely want to make sure you’re okay after…”
“After you cheated on me?” I shake my head, a puff of air escaping. “Six month ago, I wasn’t.” Dropping my hands, I cup my mug for the warmth and for something to do. I’m not really sure what to do with this version of my ex who listens to me. “But I think you know that.”
He nods but doesn’t take the chance I’ve given him to debate the blame for our breakup as he has in the past. He’s quiet. We study each other in silence.
“Honestly, it took a few months to really get over you. I loved you, Gid.” There’s no flush accompanying my words. My heart isn’t thundering. I’m calm. I can say that I loved him because I did, but I’m also
over
him. He has no power over me. I can’t imagine ever feeling this way about Jake. “But I’m okay,” I say gently. “I’ve moved on.”
He smiles, his eyes fixed on mine. “Good. That’s good. I want you to be solid, and ready for wherever life takes you.” His smile widens. “Because I have an offer for you…”
I mull over his words. I think that, despite everything, despite the heartache, I
am
ready. Looking at Gideon, I realize even though I’m still scared to move on from Jake, even though I know it’s going to be difficult, I’m also ready.
I’m not made for standing still, for being quiet, for letting life happen to me. I change my stars. I’m made for living. I’m made for adventures and amazing mistakes. And it’s time to add some of both back to my life.
Even though I know I’m stalling, I pause outside Freshly Ground. It’s about thirty minutes after closing. Mina and I arranged this earlier; all I have to do is knock, and she’ll let me in. I’m
this
close to seeing Jake for the first time in a few days. This close to talking to him. And I’m afraid. No, I’m petrified. What if we have nothing to say? What if he’s angry with me? What if I get mad while we’re talking?
A tremor works its way through me. It isn’t cold, but I wrap my arms around myself as if doing so will help. I’m surprising him, and I know there’s a chance he won’t want to see me. I sent him a text yesterday afternoon that I would be ready to talk soon, but it was my off day. I felt like I needed time to prepare. I know this isn’t going to be easy, but beyond
that
, I have no idea what to expect.
After running the gamut of emotions over the last days, right now I’m simply nervous. My anger burned brightly, but now it’s fading, like it always does. And with it gone, I can breathe again, and I can see more clearly.
In the absence of rage, there’s confusion, but also, hope. Hope that maybe I didn’t ruin everything between me and Jake, that we can at least come out of this as friends. And with that hope, there’s also courage. The courage to see this through, whether Jake and I end up as friends, as a couple, or as nothing at all. The courage to take this chance, to finally bare myself without expecting anything in return.
There’s remorse, too. Even if Jake doesn’t feel the same way about me, he never deliberately tried to hurt me. He deserves better than the way I treated him the other night.
Sighing, I lean against the wall of the building.
I’m the farthest away from my comfort zone I’ve ever been, but I’m learning that outside that circle is where everything that matters happens. Losing Jake is my worst fear, and I have to face it, pass through it, if I want to heal. If I can’t do that, my growth in recent months won’t mean anything.
I vowed recently to stop getting in the way of my own happiness, and that’s what I’m trying to do now. If it isn’t too late, I want to explain myself to Jake, and listen to what he has to say. He accused me of thinking for him the other night, and I think he’s right. I was so caught up in what I
thought
was happening that I didn’t try to listen to what he might have been trying to say. With nothing to do but think about those awful moments, I realized what my problem has been.
I’ve been so fixed on what I thought happiness looked like, that I didn’t see my chance when it was right in front of me. Now, I have to shatter my preconceived notions, and I have to break my old habits.
After so long of running, it’s time to stand still for a change.
Jake was always willing to wait out my storms in the past. No matter how much I raged about whatever situation I got myself into, whether he was an accomplice or the reason for my frustration, he was my lighthouse. My beacon. I hope I can count on him to have waited one last time.
I force myself to knock on the door. A few seconds later, Mina appears and lets me in. She’s wearing a smile I can’t even pretend to return.
“He’s finishing inventory,” she says, letting her light hair out of the long ponytail she keeps it in at work.
I nod, pressing my fingers to my chest. My heart is racing like I’m preparing for a marathon. I feel totally unprepared. Without thinking, I grab Mina’s hand. I know I’m squeezing too hard, but she doesn’t even flinch. She holds on, like she has since I met her.
“Breathe, SC. You’ve got this.” She gives me a peck on the cheek. “Jake, I’m heading out!” She raises her voice so he’ll hear her. I hear an “Okay” float from the stockroom, and then Mina beams at me. “I believe in you and in the two of you. Now go get your guy.”
She’s gone before I can tell her that there’s no way in
hell
there’s any chance of that.
Jake rounds the corner before I’m ready. He’s looking at his clipboard, so he doesn’t see me at first. A backwards baseball cap holds back his too-long hair. I’ve been teasing him about needing to cut it. When I make some small noise, he glances up from his paperwork. The moment he sees me, his eyes widen. I watch as his expression changes, one kaleidoscope scene after another.
“I’m sorry.” I blurt out the words before I can lose my nerve. “I should have told you I was coming by, but I was afraid I’d chicken out, so…hi?”
“Hey.” He sets everything on the counter all at once then walks halfway to me. His Adam’s apple moves up and down as he swallows hard. “It’s okay. I’m glad you’re here.”
“I need to—” He starts.
“I should…” I say at the same time.
I grab the back of a chair to keep from doing something stupid, like bolting toward him. Or out of here. “If it’s okay, I wanted to apologize.” I grit my teeth against the lump in my throat. I will not cry. I
won’t
. I’ve cried an ocean in the last several days, and I’m barely clinging to a life raft as it is. Many more tears and I’ll just drown. There are when moments I’m okay and moments when I’m not. This? Is a moment I’m not. “I was awful the other night. I left without even giving you a chance to explain yourself, and for that I am so very sorry.” When I meet his gaze, I don’t try to hold back anything I’m feeling. I want him to know I’m sincere.
“Claire…” Jake takes off the cap, and rakes his fingers through his hair. The strands tumble into his eyes anyway, and I can’t read his eyes.
“Wait.” I hold out a hand like I can stop his words. “Wait, please. I know you have some things to say, but I really need to go first.” I take one deep breath. Two. Three. “I said some things the other night. Things I meant. But.” Swallowing again, I try to hold back the tears. “I know I made a few mistakes. I should have said something sooner. I should have been brave enough to let you tell me how you feel...and how you don’t. I assumed things the other night, because of what we said.”
He takes a step toward me, but I take a step back. I can’t be in his arms, or too close to him. I’ll never survive this if he tries to do the friend-consoling-a-friend thing with me, now.
“I know we both got carried away with the whole fake relationship thing.” I laugh, but it sounds shrill and false and broken. “And I guess I got a lot more carried away than I should have. I thought I saw signs, but I think I might have read them all wrong.”
“Claire, I should tell you something.” He bunches his hat in his hands.
I shake my head. “Please let me finish?” I can barely hear the words, but I know he does, because he nods.
Pausing, I try to gather my wits, and my words. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t know if we’ll ever talk again after this. I have to make this count.
“I meant everything I said. I’ve loved you for ages, but I never really thought anything would happen between us. I
hoped
,” I say very quietly, “but I always knew it was just a dream. When I left…” I inhale, focusing on just breathing. “When I left, my world changed. I fell in love a few times while I was in Nashville. I grew up a lot. And even though I missed you, since you weren’t in my life and I didn’t know how to find you, I didn’t have that dream of us. But then I came back, and here you are, just as amazing as I remembered.”
The first tear slides down my cheek. I don’t catch it, although I could have. I can’t. It’s a runaway, a fugitive running for its short life. And it isn’t alone. More follow.
“I fell for you, again. And in some ways, for the
first
time. I loved you as an adult, and I don’t regret that. However short the dream was this time, it was worth it.” I’m shaking, head to toe, nothing but fault lines for destruction. I haven’t even told him about Gideon’s offer yet; somehow, I have to force those words into the atmosphere.
“There’s a chance I might be moving back to Nashville, or at least not be here as much,” I say, my voice shaking in the silence. “My ex knows a record exec interested in my demos. And I couldn’t leave, even for a few days, without apologizing to you. I’m sorry for—” I choke up, and have to clear my throat. I see Jake between tears, his shape shimmering, going wavy. “I’m sorry for ruining us. We were good, weren’t we? Our friendship meant so much to me. Our…relationship meant even more. And I ruined it, so I’m sorry.”
I hear footsteps, but I can’t actually see anything. Everything is watery, but I feel Jake pull me into his arms.
“You
didn’t
ruin us,” he says. His voice is hard, not angry, but fierce. Unyielding. He puts his lips next to my ear. “You didn’t, I promise.” His arms are around me, and I’m already gone, so I let myself lean into him. Into his warmth, his comfort, his strength. Into his scent. Into how simple and easy it’s always been with him, despite my repeated attempts to complicate us with my damned feelings.
“We can’t reverse this, Coop,” I whisper. “And I know… I know that I can’t blame you for anything. This is
my
mess. I let myself fall for you again. I let myself get caught up in our relationship, and I let myself hope for more. So I just… I don’t think we can go back, not until I can fix myself.”
“I don’t want to.”
Blinking, I stare at the ground. I half-turn in his arms, not quite tearing away from him, but not holding on either. I’m not sure what he means, and I’m afraid to ask. Does he mean he doesn’t want to go back to being just friends? Or that he doesn’t want to go back to being more than friends?
“Sophie.”
It’s a caress. It’s the gentlest touch. It’s a prayer and a confession. “Please don’t go, Sophie. Please don’t run from me again.” His voice drops an octave. “Look at me, sweetheart.”
At the sound of my name from Jake, I turn and face him, and I swear, it’s as if I’ve never seen him before. At least not this version of him. His eyes are so open. Unfettered. He’s staring at me, but he isn’t hiding behind a friendly, exasperated smile. He isn’t keeping himself in check.
I’m finally seeing the Jake I glimpsed this fall. I’m seeing the one behind the carefully constructed smoke screens, behind every kiss he cut short. He’s dropped his walls. He’s beautiful and hopeful. Like everything he is, is riding on this moment, just like I am.
“Coop?” Is that
my
voice shaking like that? Sounding so tentative? Why do I feel like my entire gravity just shifted? Is what I’m thinking right now even possible? I’ve prayed for it, cried over it, wanted it with ever fiber of my being. I always knew Nashville was a gamble, so I didn’t pin everything on it. Jake, though, Jake was the one I bet my all on, even knowing he was the biggest risk of my life.
“Sophie.” How does he pour such love into a single name? How have I never heard him say it like this before? Or
has
he and I was simply too afraid to believe, to hope? “Please stay with me and let me explain. Let me finally tell you what I’ve been trying to for days.”
I sway toward Jake. He takes my hand in his, and I stare down at our fingers, twined together. I feel my heart thumping. I want this like I crave the sun after a long winter, like a flower must yearn to push through dirt and into the open. Everything in me is at once roaring and so quiet and still.
“Why did you call me Sophie?” He puts his free hand under my chin and tips my face up so I’m looking into his eyes. I’ve never seen him so raw. I’m not sure how to feel, and I’m honestly glad he’s anchoring me. “I’ve never… No one has ever said my name like that.” Tears flood my eyes, tears I try to hold back, but can’t. “What did you want to tell me, Jake? I didn’t listen before, but I’m listening now. I hope it’s not too late.”
Somehow, I find the strength to take a step closer to him. I don’t know how I dare to hope, but I do. I’m reaching toward him with everything I have. He lowers his head to my ear. When he speaks, his breath warms my cheek, and I hear him in every part of me.
“I love you, Sophie.”