Torn
Authors: S. Nelson
S. NELSON
CONTENTS
TORN
Copyright © 2015 S. Nelson
Editor- Hot Tree Editing
Cover Design – CT Cover Creations
Interior Chapter Headings design – Max Effect
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the publisher’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Torn/ S.Nelson. — 1st edition
I dedicate this book to
anyone who has faced obstacles in their life. To anyone who was told no when you wanted to take a different path, a different road than maybe what was expected of you. To all of you out there who are yet to follow your dreams, your passion, do so with
a lightness in your heart, a drive in your soul and a determination to conquer the world!
T
he outside world whizzed by, my breaths never seeming to catch up to each other as the scenery made me dizzy. With each tree, each stretch of highway, each blur of the passing vehicles, my chest tightened in anticipation for what I had planned, what the upcoming evening would or wouldn’t bring. For as much as I willed my body to relax, to calm down before perpetuating into some sort of heart attack, I knew I was powerless to stop the barrage of feelings washing over me. Perspiration coated my palms, causing my hands to slip from the wheel every few minutes.
Nerves. Plain and simple.
My body was racked with suspended anxieties. I tried to breathe deeply, counting a few seconds before expelling the air from my lungs, but nothing I did sedated my apprehension. I’d heard it was normal for a man to feel such things before he asked the biggest question of his life, but the reassurance didn’t help me. Visions of what was to come only caused me to become rigid; my muscles wired so tight I thought they were going to split apart.
My mouth was dry, no matter how much water I forced down my throat. Resting my right hand on the top of the bottled water, I ran my thumbnail along the ridges in an attempt to calm me. Repetition often soothed my wayward thoughts, and even though the scraping sound masked my short spurts of uneasy pants, my mind was flooded with too many thoughts to be rational.
What if I heard the one word which would send me spiraling into a world of heartache and pain? Would I even be able to handle such a rejection from her?
The closer I approached my destination, the more my heart sped up.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
My entire life was going to change, and that was either a good thing or a very bad thing, depending on the outcome. I’d practiced what I planned on saying and it sounded convincing when I spoke the words to my mirror image. But how would they sound to the one person who set my heart ablaze? Who held my happiness in the palm of her hand?
Kalista and I had met our freshman year of high school, and I’d been smitten ever since I accidentally knocked her down roughhousing with some of my buddies. The moment I extended my hand to help her up, I was a goner. Her beautiful green eyes peered back at me, promising me something I hadn’t even known how to read back then, but I knew enough from one simple glance that I wanted to spend my time trying to decipher her coded gaze.
Our relationship started off merely as friends, spending more time together than I did with the guys. I’d fallen for her the first time I saw her but didn’t want to scare her with my intensity, so I let it all play out. Two years into our friendship, however, something changed. Maybe it was the way she lovingly looked at me when she thought I wasn’t paying attention, or maybe it was the unexplainable jealousy hiding inside me when I witnessed the way other guys acted around her, paying way too much attention to her. Either way, we agreed to take our relationship to the next level, to become more than friends.
We were inseparable after that.
Although my mother was extremely fond of Kalista, she worried we were becoming too serious too fast. She would remind both of us we had all the time in the world for a serious relationship, that we should take our time and have fun, but to remain focused on what was important: s
chool. Well, t
o be more specific…college. We did our best to assure her not to worry, that we knew what we were doing, but the apprehensive look in her eyes told us she didn’t believe us. My mother was a wonderful woman, but she was also headstrong and a bit smothering at times. During those times, I would shake my head, kiss her cheek and leave the room before she delved too far into how she thought my life should go.
The more the years passed, the less my mother’s demands suffocated us. She’d come to love Kalista like her own daughter, thankful there was someone else to relate to because everyone else in the house was a male. I was the oldest of four boys. My brothers Drayden, Dexter and Calhoun were my best friends.
My scattered thoughts flew back to the present. I wanted to remain lost in the past, but the upcoming night’s activities were pressing down on me.
Repeating
calm down, man
over and over to myself, I finally came to our street. As soon as I turned the wheel and made the left-hand turn, my pulse quickened until my vision almost hazed over. Our apartment building loomed ahead, taunting me with my uncertain future.
We’d moved in together directly after graduating high school, a decision which prompted both my family and friends to cause a fuss. My friends thought I was crazy for only sleeping with one girl, and moving in together
. Which
only solidified I wouldn’t be getting any other action. Drayden shared their sentiments, telling me I was missing out on sowing my oats and all that crazy shit. He loved Kalista like a sister, but shared my mother’s sentiment that we were moving too fast.
If they think moving in together is bad, how will they react when I tell them we’re getting married?
No one knew I was going to propose to my girlfriend of four years. I knew if I told my mother or brother, they would tell me we were way too young to take such a serious step. But nineteen years old was old enough to know we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together, right?
I tried like hell to think of something else for the next few hundred feet until I parked my car, but it was useless.
Thank God I’m only doing this once.
Throwing the car in park, I opened the door slower than I ever had before. I needed those few extra seconds to get my head right before I saw her. Wanting nothing more than to truly surprise her, I needed to act as if this was any other Friday night.
The ring I’d purchased a few months back was tucked safely away in the back of my closet. Kalista never ventured into my side of the shared space; she complained it was a mess and couldn’t stand to look at it, let alone search for anything.
A few more steps and I was finally standing at the main entrance to our building. The place we shared was tucked away at the end of the hallway on the first floor. It gave us enough privacy from our neighbors, the closest one to us being Mrs. Hannigan, an eighty-year-old woman who was hard of hearing.
Thank God for that because there were some nights when our passion for one another was anything but quiet.
Turning the key, I heard the click of our door. I slowly pushed it open and took a step inside. Flicking on the nearest lamp, light instantly illuminated the darkened space.
Weird. She should be home by now.
We both attended a local college, taking some basic credits before we moved on to a bigger university. I was planning to attend law school and she had her heart set on becoming an architect. Big futures laid ahead for us, separately and together.
Excitement flooded my veins for the first time in hours. All I wanted to do was rush into the bedroom, fight my way through the closet, grab the ring and place it on her finger. All the while babbling incoherently about how much I loved her and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.
As I walked through our small space, something prickled at the back of my consciousness. The air seemed different. Off.
Tense.
Foreboding.
Chalking my uneasiness to nothing more than nerves, I walked toward the kitchen to grab a drink. Turning on another light to brighten my way, I noticed a piece of paper on the kitchen table. Not thinking anything of it, I passed by, opened the fridge and pulled out a bottled water. Swiveling around, I broke the seal and raised it to my lips. I glanced back toward the table and as I was about to taste the cool liquid, something caught my attention.
My name.
On the piece of paper I chose to ignore only seconds prior.
An unknown fear washed over me as I took those few steps necessary to reach the note. People say to listen to your gut when things unfold around
you. That
everyone has a sixth sense which should never be ignored.
I wanted nothing more than to turn off every instinct I had, continuing to fumble around in a previous reality I was part of not two minutes earlier.
Instinct told me something heart-rending was written on the mystery piece of paper. But it wasn’t enough for me to put it back down and walk away. Curiosity and an overshadowing fear had me scanning the page, the words drifting through my mind but never really settling in.
Goodbye.
I’m sorry.
I can’t do this anymore.