Tattoo (13 page)

"Why did you leave?" I blurted out, unable to meet her eyes. It was the question that had burned through me for a year and a half, on repeat in my mind. I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer, but I knew I had to know.

"I saw her every time I looked at you. I just couldn't." I nodded an understanding. That was as close a confession as I knew I'd ever get. We had let our love crumble around us, unable to tell each other the truth. That Sammie had been in our every thought, every word, every glance at each other. She was a heartbreaking part of our lives that would never go away.

She grabbed my hand. An electric shot ran though it, making me remember what it felt like to be alive. I had forced myself to forget how she made me feel, how she made life real in the most amazing way. I finally met her eyes.

"Make me laugh," she pleaded. "Just please, make it like it used to be."

I looked at her for a long time. Her eyes begging me for something I wasn't sure I knew how to do. Or that I wanted to do. I was angry. I was so god damn pissed at her for leaving without a goodbye. That stupid fucking note left on the nightstand. How could she? I searched her eyes, now was the moment. There would be no going back. I'd either push her away and never look back, or I'd give in to her and there would be no going back. That was hardly a decision.

"Bartender, another round." My eyes never left hers. 

We got drunk in that crummy ass bar on cheep booze and the past. I didn't ask her what she had been doing since she left, and she didn't ask me. In a silent agreement we took our lives back, for just one night. We laughed at our stories, reminisced about our times together, but only the good. We didn't talk about Sammie, or her nursery, or the pain that we knew was ripping through us every time our hearts beat. 

When we got tipsy, we danced. She grabbed my hand and pulled me to the dance floor. She twirled and swayed and would grind into me in ways that made it hard to resist her. When we were appropriately drunk we went out to my truck, and rolled the windows down. 

"Drive," she commanded. And I followed.

She began to pull at my collar, and kiss my neck. I inhaled sharply as her tongue slid along my collar bone. I pulled off the road and onto a little abandoned dirt path. I drove far enough down it, that we would be able to finally let out the screams we'd held for so long, and they'd be only for each other.  

I had barely stopped the truck when she climbed on top of me, her skirt pooling around her waist. I kissed her, everywhere I could find, making up for the time I'd lost. Her head rolled back and she moaned. She undid my zipper and pulled me out of my pants. I was already throbbing in her hand before she slid me in. Time stopped for one blissful moment. She started to ride on top of me, hard and fast. I wanted to feel every bit of her, every inch. My busy hands flew from her face, to her soft legs, her breasts. I wanted to touch her everywhere, to make sure she was real.  She finally let out the scream I knew she'd been holding in, and we came together. She collapsed on top of me, with me still inside her. Her head laid on my chest. I picked it up, and kissed her softly, not wanting to bruise her lips any further.

"Do you live far from here?" she asked me.

"No."

"Let's go then."

She spent the night with me that night. When I got her home, we made love one more time. I laid her on the bed and it was soft, and sweet, and I wanted it to last forever. When we were done, exhausted from it all, we lay in my bed, her stroking my chest, me playing with her hair. Memories hit me like a brick, of everything we'd had. I slid to my dresser and pulled out a blunt. We smoked and I saw her relax, the tension seeping from her body as she laid back and stared at the ceiling. 

When the buzz finally hit me enough, I asked her what she had been doing. She told me she had decided to go to a two year school to become a nurse. It turned out she picked a school only a few hours away from me, she hadn't been that far away after all. I told her I was studying sports journalism. I had an internship lined up for the fall semester with a new sports magazine in the area. That I had actually taken extra classes and would be graduating a year early. It was as if neither one of us could start our lives fast enough.

I found it ironic that she had escaped this town that she loved, and in my small little town, I'd found home. She drifted to sleep before I did, her bare shoulders had gotten free of the covers. I watched her, beautiful as ever. So peaceful when she slept. I remembered what life could really be like. So full and beautiful. I fell asleep next to her, curled up behind her, holding onto the life I knew I wanted.

When I woke up the next morning, there was a folded piece of paper where she should have been. I opened it up, bleary eyed and read the words that I somehow knew would be there.

I'll always love you, Eric. 

I suddenly knew what last night was, it was not a new beginning, but finally an ending. I sat on the edge of my bed and called Tiffany, I ended our relationship on her answering machine. 

I had been right, there was no going back.

TWENTY-FIVE

Just as there had been no going back with Tiffany, there had been little going back to my old life. The night after Lauren, I couldn't help myself, I sat there staring at an unopened bottle of whisky that I bought from the liquor store. I cracked the bottle. My skin felt burned with the traces of her and all I wanted to do was forget it. 

It's not easy to cap the bottle once it's opened, so I never really did. I lost my scholarship, which was not surprising, considering I hardly ever dragged my drunken body out bed for morning practice. I stayed in school though and only scraped by that year by the skin of my teeth and what was left of my broken charm. The booze and the pot were the main source of what I put in my body, and it had turned my skin sallow and ashen. I was a mess, no other words for it. And I had no way to crawl back out of the darkness again. 

I knew where she went to school, I knew she'd be there that year, but I never tried to find her. She didn't want me to. She wanted to say goodbye and close that chapter of her life. But I couldn't do that as easily. I couldn't say goodbye because I didn't want to say goodbye. I wanted Lauren and I didn't believe that anything else would ever measure up. 

It was two years later, on a cool spring night, when I saw her picture in the town paper, smiling up with some fiancé of hers. I had to look twice when I saw it. Not because I didn't know it was her, because without even seeing her name, there was no doubt in me that it was her, but because I couldn't believe she was getting married.  

If I had had any heart left, it would have broken. But by that point I was so far from having any heart left that instead I just tossed the paper aside. I grabbed a blunt and took it out back to my patio. I stared up at the stars and wished myself up there. I don't know how long I stayed outside and it really didn't matter. I didn't need dinner, or to go to bed, or even to be warm. What I needed was Lauren. And she was gone to someone else. 

I was angry at her for moving on. I was angry at her for not loving me like she said she would, forever. I was angry at myself for not being able to move on and for being so completely in love with her, that her face was the last thing I saw at night before I slept. She haunted my dreams and I was powerless to stop it. 

I thought about and dreaded her wedding for a year and a half. But the night before her wedding was one of my worst benders ever. I don't know how much I drank at that bar, I don't know how much I drank once I got home, hell, I don't even know how I got home. All I knew was the more I drank, the better the chance I'd miss saying goodbye to her forever. I'd miss losing any little shred of hope I had left inside me to give. 

But my body woke me anyway. So, I was there to see her walk down the aisle, and I was there to see her smile. I heard her vows and I heard his.

TWENTY-SIX

"If there is anyone here who thinks these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace."

You could have heard a pin drop in the silent church. I stood up. My heart was racing as she turned toward me. Our eyes locked again. I could say something, I could end it all, right there, with an objection. 

But instead, I stood and took the hardest steps of my life, into the aisle and walked out of the church. 

I opened the doors to an even brighter day than it had been a few minutes before. The sun shone like it knew I needed a friend. I looked left and I looked right, down the old town's streets. Where should I go from here? I didn't really feel like a bar, I didn't really know what I felt like anymore. A movie? Some food? The world seemed full of possibilities. 

I turned to head to the high school.  Back to where it all started. The high school team had a Saturday game to play and I wanted to watch. 

TWENTY-SEVEN

I couldn't help it that Eric was my first thought when I woke up on my wedding day. I'd only come back home a few times since I moved away. I was so aware of the feeling of him in this town it gave me goosebumps.

I was so proud of him that he had made it big, even without baseball. I would often wonder what happened to his baseball career, when I'd be reading his articles. Had he gotten hurt? Decided he didn't want to play? I had no idea. One day the papers just didn't hold his name anymore. I had no stats to check, no way to root for him. It was luck that he happened to mention the paper that he'd be interning for his junior year. Even luckier that he ended up with a job there as well, it made it easier for me to follow him.

My first thought, when I woke up, should have been Max, but it wasn't. Eric flooded my mind. I tried to blink him away but I couldn't. His easy smile, and dirty blonde hair that always seemed to fall in his eyes, and promptly make me weak in the knees. His arms that held me so strong and tight made my skin sear with longing. 

Max was wonderful. He was smart and had a great job. He didn't make me explain in detail about my past. He left it to the simple facts and that was that. That's the kind of guy he was.  A fact man. Black and white was all there was. Feelings got too messy most of the time, so other than the "I love you" that he said occasionally, that was as far as we would dive in. We made sense together. A finance man who thought in numbers and practicality, for a woman who couldn't feel her own feelings anymore. We never asked more of each other than the other could give, it worked for us.  

I attributed my longing for Eric to pre-wedding jitters. Everyone told me I would get them, so I guessed I had. I creaked down the stairs to the smell of my mother making breakfast for me. I don't know why that house always felt like home to me. I had spent so little of my life there and yet, somehow, that little yellow house, in this tiny town, was my home. When I moved, I missed it in a way I hadn't expected.

"Happy wedding morning!" my mother cheered as she continued to flip the bacon.

"Thanks mom," I smiled at her.

She frowned. She always knew when something was wrong. Bacon and eggs plopped onto two plates and she sat down at the table next to me. 

"What's the matter sweetie?"

I hesitated. Should I tell her about my longing for Eric? Waking up to the feel of him against my skin?

"I miss this house, I miss being home," I told her instead offering her a half truth.

She nodded and scooped up some eggs onto her fork.

"Well, maybe you and Max could talk about moving back this way," she answered.

I shook my head. "No, he can't leave his job. It's his world."

"You should be his world," she answered.

"Do you think I'm marrying the right man?" I blurted out.

She smiled. She knew she was going to get the truth out of me eventually. She didn't answer right away. Taking a scoop full of eggs again, she chewed it thoughtfully before putting her fork down.

She grabbed my hand.

"Sometimes, the heart can go in two different directions. You may love both of them for the rest of your forevers, with both halves of your heart. But what you have to decide is, who is the one you can't live without?"

My mouth hung open. How did she know?

"Oh honey, I know you better than you can even imagine. That's my job, I'm a mom."

She patted my hand and picked up her fork.

The doorbell rang and I knew my bridesmaids were on the other side, ready to prepare for the day. It was time to get the show on the road.

I didn't think about Eric again until we arrived at the church. I was hustled in, undetected, the bride not being able to be seen of course, and stashed in a tiny waiting room at the church. The girls were clattering about, fixing hair and touching up makeup. 

No one even seemed to notice me, staring off into the mirror, adjusting my veil. Was this me? Was this who I wanted to be? Mrs. Maxwell Cannon. Mrs. Lauren Cannon. My heart started to race inside my chest.

The priest entered our little room, asking if we were ready. The girls bustled around, fluffing my dress and checking my own makeup and hair. I couldn't find the words to answer him, as he stared at me. 

"Oh, cold feet honey? You're going to be just fine," my maid of honor assured me. "She's ready."

But was I?

I knew he was there. Before I set one foot inside of the church, I knew he was there. I felt him before I saw him. That's how it always was for me. From that first day I walked into his homeroom, to the very last time I walked away, his very presence took my breath away. 

He always thought that it was after the first date that I fell in love with him, I never corrected him of that. I was always afraid he'd think I was a dork for saying it really was love at first sight. I saw him the moment I walked into homeroom. I didn't even want to look at him, because I was already head over heels in love. It sounds stupid and immature, but there I was, six years later, on my wedding day, and I could still feel him all around me.

I couldn't look at him all the way down the aisle, I didn't even want to chance a glance for fear that I would turn around and run. Instead, I kept my eyes locked on Max.

Max really was a great guy. I met him my sophomore year of college, in a psychology class. He pursued me endlessly that year. He was nice, and sweet, and we definitely had our fun. But I could never get Eric fully out of my mind. I wanted to call Eric so many many times, but after the way that I'd left, how could I do that? I was so sure he hated me, that I didn't want to put myself through his rejection, because I knew I'd never recover. I had also finally come to peace with losing Sammie, and I didn't know what being with him would do to me.

Sammie, that had been why I left. That tattoo. I couldn't look at it for the rest of my life. I couldn't be reminded of her every day. I couldn't figure out why he'd done it. Why he needed that reminder every day, that she wasn't there? That's when I decided to leave. I needed to get away from the memory of her. I couldn't look at him without seeing who she might have been. Maybe his eyes? Maybe my nose? To add her name on top of it was too much for me to handle. 

But I just had to see him one more time. That was when I texted him. I was home visiting my parents and I needed him more than I'd ever needed anything in my life, more than I needed air to breathe. 

That last night I was with him, was the most perfect night of my life. So why did I leave? Why didn't I stay?

I don't know. 

At the time, it was too painful to stay, and so painful to go. Eric thought I was sleeping that night, but instead, I lay awake listening to his heart beat with mine. I tossed every possibility through my head, but by morning, all I knew was, I needed to go back to school, I needed to do it for me. So I left. I started dating Max soon after I got back to school. I wanted to forget Eric, forget my past, and move ahead with my future. Because, if he had forgiven me the first time for leaving, there was no way he'd forgive me a second.

I never even let myself hope that he still loved me. I told myself, that after what I put him through, I didn't deserve his love. I told myself that, every day. Every day, until I started to love Max. It wasn't the same as with Eric, but he was still a wonderful guy. I was lucky. All my friends thought so.

I made myself think about Max and all of our good times and the life we would have, all the way down the aisle. By the time I recited my vows, I knew that Max was the man I should be marrying. He was everything I needed.

"If there is anyone here who thinks these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace."

I turned to look at the guests, searching for one pair of eyes only. I wanted him to know I was sorry, I wanted him to know that, just like my mother said, I would always love him.

But when I found his eyes, that beautiful green, I couldn't look away. Only one set of words ran through my head, "What you have to decide is, who is the one you can't live without?"