Promise Me (9 page)

"Sure thing, see you then."

And away we go… in the next hour the gossip phone chain will be ringing off the hook. Alerting everyone within a twenty mile radius that the long lost Sabrina Chandler is actually in Skippack. Awesome. So much for flying under the radar. Might as well just keep the tab open and the drinks flowing. I motion for the waiter to bring me another drink and my mom makes a big show of clearing her throat to try and get my attention. "What's wrong, mom?"

"What is going on, Sabrina?"

I sigh and lean over the table slightly to keep the conversation as contained as possible, "Mom, it's complicated."

The last thing I want to do is get into a discussion about Lisa, and everything that it entails, right here and now. "Mom, can't we just enjoy dinner and not discuss Lisa for a change?"

"Yes," my dad, finally speaking up, says and winks at me.

"I guess so," she concedes, but not before she adds, "I just want you to be happy."

I ignore the jibe when the waiter finally arrives with our meals. The steak I had ordered melts in my mouth, making all the drama from just a short while ago almost worth it. It's really the little things sometimes that make it all okay. I decline dessert and excuse myself from the table to go to the ladies room while my father is requesting the waiter for the check.

When we arrived for dinner, the bar portion of the restaurant was fairly crowded, and still is as I make my way through it to get to the restroom. A couple of patrons are cheering on the Phillies on the huge flat screen TV that's mounted above the bar. When I reach the door to the ladies room, a voice that I haven't heard in ten years quietly says, "It's really you."

All of a sudden, everything around me stops and I feel like I've entered
The Matrix
. The only thing I can make out is my own heartbeat that is pounding in my ears. I take a breath and then quickly exhale,
I can do this
, I think to myself as I turn around and come face to face with the boy who broke my heart.

His sandy blonde hair is a little shorter than what I remember and he's put on a few pounds, but they don't look bad on him… the bastard. He still possesses that All-American, boy next door look, but it's his baby blue eyes that still send me reeling while I stand here frozen. They were always his best feature. He had this way of commanding me with his eyes to persuade me to do things, like he was my own personal hypnotist. Even though the intensity behind them is the same they look sad at the moment.

"I can't believe you're really here," he says breaking the silence between us, "I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to call you."

"To tell me what, exactly," I snap back. He winces slightly at my response but I stand my ground.

He puts both his hands in his pocket and tilts his head downward. As he lifts his eyes back up to me he says, "Sorry. That I'm sorry for everything. I was young and stupid and I believed everything Lisa told me back then." He takes a quick breath before continuing, "Sabrina, if I could, I would take it all back. I wouldn't have ever listened to her and I would have never hurt you."

What. The. Fuck.

What exactly does "listened to her" even mean? In the back of my mind an image forms of them together at that party years ago. Him, picking her up and kissing her passionately. Lisa breaking off the kiss and throwing her head back while he continued kissing her exposed throat. Yet, here he stands, trying to tell me that it's not what it seemed.

"You're so full of shit, Chris," and I go to walk past him to get away from him. He grabs me by the elbow and nudges me back further into the hallway that leads to the restrooms.

"Please, let me explain."

"No," I breathe out and jerking my elbow from his grip. "It's too late for explanations."

I turn to walk away from him but his words stop me in my tracks.

"Lisa," he says through clenched teeth, "told me that you were planning on dumping me before you left for college. She convinced me that you didn't really care about me, about us. She said that you were going to leave us both behind and that we only had each other. She..."

"STOP!"

He tries to continue, but I say it again, this time with more venom behind it. I feel sick to my stomach. How dare he try to pin this all on Lisa. I saw him with my own eyes. He sure as hell didn't look like he was being forced into anything back then. Not to mention that he's been married to her for almost ten years.

I take a step or two towards him until we are inches apart. He looks defeated, almost pathetic and I surprise myself by letting out a quick laugh before shaking my head in disbelief.

"Go home to your
wife
, Chris."

I leave him standing there and make my way back through the bar to my parents so that I can get the hell out of here. So much for a quiet arrival.

The drive home is awkward to say the least. I haven't said more than two words to my parents after leaving Chris and his bullshit excuses behind. Those two words being,
"Let's go." A part of me wants to just get back on a plane and head home. But another part of me, the one that's been slowly building herself up to face all of this, doesn't want to walk away just yet. It's that part of me that's keeping me focused and not losing it while I sit in the back seat of my parent's car and stare out the window.

How dare he do this to me? How could he think that approaching me after ten years in a crowded bar to lay his sad story on me after everything would be even remotely okay? And the story, in of itself, is beyond infuriating. What kind of cryptic crap did all of that mean? Lisa, being the Svengali behind it all. Like she was The Great and Powerful Oz; hiding behind the curtain and pulling on secret levers in the hopes she can get Chris to do her evil bidding. I guess he conveniently forgot that I actually saw them together. And that it takes two to tango.

Finally arriving back at my parent's house, I get out of the car, slamming the door in the process. All I want to do is get in my room and shut everything out. Reaching for my doorknob, I hear my mother at the end of the hallway. "Sabrina, what in
the
hell is going on?"

I open the door to my room and turn my head towards her before going in, "Mom, you don't want to know."

"Yes, I do. What is all of this about you and Lisa talking on the phone? Why did you lie to me about that?" She starts walking down the hallway towards me as she continues, "Lisa really wanted to talk to you, the poor girl. She looked so upset when I told her you were coming to the reunion. She couldn't wait to get your phone number so she could call you herself."

That's it, the proverbial straw that breaks the camel's back. That whore, Julia would be so proud, has made my own mother believe that I'm the one to blame for their own mistakes.

"You want to know what happened?" I ask her.

She nods and says, "Yes, I most certainly do."

"Fine," I bite out, "Lisa and Chris were seeing each other during High School."

"I know that," she says and hesitates before going on, "you told us they got together after you broke up with him."

"I lied."

"What did you lie about?"

"Everything. I found them together, one night at a party right before we graduated. I snuck out of the house and went to the party to surprise Chris. But guess who was really surprised? Me!"

She puts her hand over her mouth to cover the low gasp that escapes her throat. "Oh my God. I'm so sorry, I never knew. Why didn't you tell me?"

"What good would it have done? I was leaving in a couple of months for college and I just wanted to get out of here."

I instantly feel terrible for all the years I've allowed her to believe in a lie. I've had fleeting thoughts about just spilling my guts before this very moment, but somehow it just never seemed to be the right time. The guilt I feel is overwhelming at the sight of her standing before me open-mouthed and speechless. What kind of person am I that I would let this go on for so long? What does this say about me? I curse myself at the thought of how much I've let those two run my life without them even knowing how much of a strain it has put on my relationship with my own parents… and for what?

"You must think I'm awful," she says to me as tears begin to fall slowly from her eyes. "All these years, you've heard me talk about them and you never said anything. Why?"

"I don't know anymore, Mom. I just wanted it all to go away. I thought that if I just let you believe whatever it was you believed, you would leave it alone. I don't think you're awful at all. I'm the awful one for making a mess of this all on my own."

I sit down on my bed, feeling like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. The first few tears that had been threatening just below the surface start to escape. My mom comes to sit beside me and gently takes my hand.

"Sweetie, please forgive me, I'm so sorry."

Her pleading eyes are full of tears now, causing mine to completely spill over. Although I'm relieved that I finally was able to tell her everything, the pain that I've caused her and myself for no reason other than shame and embarrassment is too much to bear. My hands shakily go to wipe the tears off my cheeks that are coming at an uncontrollable rate. She gathers me into a comforting hug and rocks me in her arms until the tears finally stop. She pulls me back to look at my face giving me the slightest hint of a smile cracking her lips before she says, "So, you snuck out, huh?"

With that, we're both laughing until we notice my dad leaning in my door frame, arms crossed, looking more than pissed off. He looks downright deadly.

"I never liked that boy. Next time I see him I'm going to kick his ass and make him wish he was never born."

Between more giggling and sniffling, my mom pats my hand to reassure me and then turns to my dad, giving him a stern look. "You will do no such thing because after I'm finished with him he'll already be dead."

Giving me a light kiss on my cheek, she leaves the room and shoves my dad out of the way so she can close the door behind her but not before saying, "I love you, sweetie."

"Love you too, Mom."

Feeling a little better about the situation and the mess that is my life, I change into my tank top and pajama bottoms, crawl under the blankets of my old bed, and fall asleep fairly quickly.

The next morning, I wake up to the smell of bacon wafting down the hall. Slowly peeling the comforter off of my body, I do a quick stretch before I pull on my fleece robe and make my way down to the kitchen where my mom is making breakfast.

She puts down her spatula and pulls me into a hug and asks if I slept well. I tell her that it was probably one of the best night's sleep I've had in a long time. She gives me a light kiss on my forehead, letting me know that breakfast will be ready in a few minutes. While I'm waiting, I check my cell phone for any messages and see that Alex has sent me a text just this morning. At first, I think it must be work related, but quickly realize that it's not the case at all.

Thinking about you. Hope you're having a great time.

I'm flustered and excited by his text and am at a loss as to what to say back to him. My mind, apparently in self-preservation mode, runs through a quote from one of my favorite movies, "
I can't think about that right now. If I do, I'll go crazy. I'll think about that tomorrow.
" God bless Scarlett O'Hara, that little strategy is the way to go, I think, for now. So, instead of responding, I sit on the stool at the kitchen island and let my mom pile up the food on my plate.

"Why do you have that look on your face?" My mom asks.

"What look do I have on my face exactly?"

"Like you're a deer caught in the headlights," she explains as she leans against the counter and wipes her hands with a dishtowel.

"It's nothing," I say dismissively with a shrug, but she's not buying it.

Maybe it's the fact that it has been ten years, or the bonding time we had after what happened last night, that I feel compelled to share with her more about my personal life than ever before. Well, except for the whole Tyler thing, which I'm not about to explain just because the woman made me some bacon.

"Okay, okay, " I mumble then take a bite from a piece of bacon and keep my eyes on my plate. "Right before I left to come up here, my boss made it obvious that he's interested in me. He just sent me a text but I haven't answered it because I haven't decided what I'm going to do about him just yet. "