It seems that Xander has struck a nerve with River because he cuts him off before he can finish his thought. “You don’t think I know that you harbor guilt about Bell. I do! But that’s your guilt not mine. I let that go a long time ago. Bell is happy with her life. It’s you that’s not happy with her life and as for how you see my needs, you’re wrong.”
I am watching these two brothers tear each other apart over their sister. It is both heart-breaking and heart-warming that they love her so much to care so deeply.
Stammering with more to say, Xander shakes his head, pointing his finger at River. “You think I don’t know that you hide your guilt on the inside. You can pretend you are happy with how Bell’s life turned out but I know different.”
Then he smiles sadly as he says, “You aren’t even the one who should feel guilty. A long time ago you asked me to, no not even, I told you that I would take Bell home so you could find this girl,” he says, pointing to me and then continuing, “You didn’t then, but you have now, so don’t let me or Bell or anyone else screw it up for you, but most of all, don’t let yourself screw it up.”
Pain flashes through me at Xander’s words. Am I really to blame for their sister’s accident? Should I have told River the truth when I first met him? Couldn’t I have just stuck around and told him the truth about Ben then? Would it have mattered? My head is spinning and I may be sick again.
Xander smiles sadly, his eyes glassy as he looks from his brother to me. “Dahlia, once again I’m sorry. It has been a shitty day and I took it out on you.”
Then looking back to River he puts his hand on his shoulder, but River flinches back. “Bro, I’ll call you tomorrow.” And with that, he turns and leaves us in the bathroom.
River walks back to me as tears fill my eyes again. Swiping my fingers under my eyes, I scrunch my forehead and purse my lips. “You should’ve been the one to tell me, not him,” I yell, pointing to the door, not in anger, but more because I am upset.
He stops in front of me and swallows. Exhaling a shaky breath, he looks into my eyes and gently cups my cheeks before whispering, “Dahlia that’s not how I wanted our relationship to start,” but I pull away before he can even finish. I don’t want his touch or his charm to cloud my judgment about where we stand with each other in light of the information I have just learned.
I stare back into his eyes as he flinches at my sudden movement. They are now hazy, no longer gleaming. “River,” I say a little softer, feeling the need to make sure he knows that an omission is still a lie. “I didn’t want our relationship to start like this either, but hiding things from me . . . I can’t, I won’t be in a relationship like that, but what’s more . . . what does this mean for us?” I manage to say this, feeling bad about the meaning behind my words before they even come out. But a lie is a lie, regardless of why it was told or how it was hidden. This I know well. I experienced it with Ben just that one time and it almost ended our relationship. But this time, with River, I seem to be more concerned about what this hidden secret will do to our relationship, than the actual secret itself.
He stands there, shaking his head. “I was going to tell you, but the right time just hadn’t happened yet.”
Averting my eyes from his, with a shaky breath I manage, “I need some air.”
I walk past him, through the dimly lit bar, and out the doors into the chill of the night. There is a cool breeze in the air, sending a shiver down my spine. As I walk to nowhere I know this time the shiver isn’t from his touch. Instead, it’s from the secret he kept from me. It’s from the cold of the night.
There are still so many people walking the quaint streets we languidly stepped down when we arrived, but the happiness I felt then is gone. The people seem to be more hurried as well. They are huddling together, almost rushing in and out of the many bars and restaurants that line the street.
November in California isn’t usually this cold, but the dampness seems to warn of impending rain. Glancing upward in hopes of seeing some light, finding some answers, all I see are thick clouds covering any stars that I might have seen. They only allow a glimpse of the moon’s slight crescent-shaped glow and provide no guidance. Looking ahead instead of up because I know I will find no comfort from the sky tonight, I continue to walk, clutching my own body to keep warm and wondering why life has to be so complicated.
“Here, put this on,” he says, taking his jacket off and wrapping it around my bare shoulders. He walks close to me, but doesn’t touch me. “If you want to go home, the car is the other way.” Maybe I’m not as sober as I thought.
Stopping, I turn to look at him. We are toe to toe. With tears in my eyes, I say words I don’t really want to say but know I have to. “River, I think it’s time for me to go back home.”
Slumping, he closes his eyes and whispers, “Not like this. Not until we talk about everything.”
My heart breaks as I look at him but I know I have to go. “I need some time to think River. I can’t do that here.”
His eyes snap to mine, and his voice cracks in anger. “What happened to my sister has nothing to do with us. You going home and thinking isn’t going to change that or even make you understand.”
Looking at him, I hear him but choose to ignore his words. I need time to think and not in my drunken state. “I can call Aerie or Serena to come pick me up if you don’t want to take me home.” Then, remembering I didn’t bring my phone, I ask, “Can I use your phone?”
River breaks, ignoring my request; his voice grows louder than he has ever spoken to me before. “Dahlia, are you listening to me? That shit that just happened in there, that’s Xander’s life.” Motioning his finger from me to him, he continues, “I am not going to let someone’s misconceived course of events change this.”
Grabbing my shoulders with his hands, he says, “You can’t just say you are leaving. You can’t leave me again.”
I shrug out of his grip, and sway slightly as I take a step. “That’s the point River, I’m not leaving you again. I never left you five years ago because I wasn’t with you.” Tears are uncontrollably sliding down my face, my teeth are chattering, and I am freezing but I continue with what must be said. “I met a guy at a bar that I was attracted to and before things got out of hand I left. Now I find out that some unmentionable horror happened to your family because of my actions and you think we’re going to be okay?”
He flinches at my tone but tenderly places his arms on my shoulders. Dunking down so we’re at eye level he says, “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It’s not like that.”
With complete honesty I say, “I just don’t know if I can do this. This thing we have is way more complicated than two people who are incredibly attracted to each other. Your brother is going crazy having me here. Does your sister even know any of this? And what about your mother! What will she say?”
“Dahlia! Listen to me!” he says, but I don’t. I can’t. I don’t want my heart to break again so instead I turn around and start walking in the other direction toward his car as he keeps pace. I navigate the sidewalk surprisingly well considering how foggy my brain feels. The air and life that was being sucked out of me becomes emptiness. Neither of us says another word. As we reach the parking garage, I just want to feel the bliss one more time, but I don’t think I will.
With my whole body shaking, I get into the car and wait for him to sit. Grabbing his cold cheeks, I look at him and I see he’s shaking as well. With tears in my eyes and sadness in my voice, I say what I know I’ve felt since Xander told me about his sister. “Here’s the thing River, I’ve already lost someone I loved, and it almost killed me. What I feel for you is so much more than I ever expected, and I know that if I stay here with you and begin to live again that I won’t survive losing you. And losing you is inevitable. We can’t be together if your family blames me for your sister’s accident. In the end, it will be our undoing.”
Shaking his head, he grabs my cheeks and forces me to look at him. “That’s just it Dahlia. No one blames anyone. Bell is happy. Our family is happy. It is Xander who can’t accept what happened. And to answer your question, yes my family knows about then and about now and they are happy for me, for us.” His eyes are glassy as he holds my gaze then leans in and kisses me. With that kiss I feel the air return to my lungs and life returns.
I pull away from his soft lips, confused in my current state of mind. I don’t know what to do, but I feel like this night has been a reality check. “I believe you, but it’s still time for me to stop playing house with you. I have to go home tomorrow.”
Chapter Twenty
LITTLE THINGS
Your hand fits in mine
Like it’s made just for me
It just makes sense that we were meant to be
I see the faint freckles on your nose
These are the little things I love about you.
“Dalhia,” he says, his tone is as dark and sad as the place I have lived for the past two years before meeting him. “One day, if you change your mind . . . just know you’ll always be my once in a lifetime.”
He presses kisses to my forehead and nose, then turns, leaving me at the front door to the house I shared with Ben for so many years. The house that is now empty is the house where, once again, I will be alone.
Fear starts to wretch through my body, not from being alone, but from being without him. Was I wrong in my decision? Did he not tell me for us? Can we get past this? My questions don’t really matter because it’s too late. I have already said things I shouldn’t have. I made the decision to end us.
“Don’t leave me,” I yell as he walks down the path leading to another life.
Turning and glancing at me over his shoulder, his eyes are no longer gleaming their perfect shade of green; they’re cloudy, hazy even. “I’m not,” he says as he keeps walking. “You left me, beautiful girl.”
Tears stream down my face as I let him go, and he fades into the horizon.
Waking, my body thrashes in the sheets, and my fists clutch the pillows.
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself as relief washes through me when I realize it was just a dream. No it wasn’t a dream; it was a nightmare. Reaching over, there is no one there to hold me. It hurts to not have him here with me. Waking up with him next to me the last few days has been amazing and I feel empty and alone in his room without him.
Licking my dry lips, I lift my aching head. “What time is it?” I ask to nobody but myself.
My heart is still pounding in my chest as I reach over to the nightstand and pick up my phone, plugged into its charger. The time on the screen reads 11:48am. How did I sleep in this late? I never sleep past sunrise. As I set my phone back down, I see a bottle of water and two aspirin off to the side on the nightstand.
Hearing the roaring of thunder and the howling of the wind from outside, I gladly pick up the water and aspirin. The aspirin are sitting on top of a yellow Post-it note River must have found them on the counter where I quickly dumped my messenger bag yesterday looking for a pen to sign for the deliveries.
Sitting up, I pop the aspirin in my mouth and swig the water in hopes of calming the storm riveting in my head. As I set the bottle and paper down, I notice something written on the Post-it.
Beautiful girl . . . In case you’re not feeling so great.
Stretching and grinning at his note, I glance around the room. Sheets are tacked over the glass doors. He must have done that so I could sleep. How sweet. How could he be so nice to me after I was such a bitch last night? Shit, last night. I remember every minute of the horrible evening, every minute of our painful conversation, but I don’t remember getting into bed.
Glancing down, I notice I’m only wearing one of River’s t-shirts and my panties. I must have passed out in the car. Did he bring me inside, up all those stairs, and change my clothes? The last thing I remember saying after leaving the parking garage was that I still wanted him to take me home, to my home, not his, but I’d wait until morning.
Deciding I need to find River and talk about last night, I stand on shaky legs and see my clothes lying on the floor beside the bed. Making my way to the bathroom, I look in the mirror. That was not a good decision. Makeup smears my face and my hair is a tangle of knots from all the hairspray. I really need a shower but settle for washing my face, brushing my teeth, and throwing my hair into a ponytail before going to search for him.
I don’t have to look far. As I walk down the hallway I hear soft music being played on a guitar. I stop at the entranceway to the living room to take him in. He’s sitting on the couch in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, barefoot, and his hair is a little more disheveled than usual. His fingers are holding a guitar pick and he’s strumming a beautiful melody while quietly singing an unfamiliar song that I can’t really hear the words to. He has a notebook and pen beside him and he’s deep in thought. I stand there awhile just listening, looking, thinking how unbelievably gorgeous he is both inside and out and how sad I am that I’m leaving. I decide to quietly go get my camera out of my bag in the bedroom. I want to capture his perfect image at this moment. As I tiptoe back and stand just inside the living room, watching him through my lens, I snap a few photos while he’s playing. He’s so involved in his work that he doesn’t even notice me or hear the click of the camera. When he finishes the song, he adjusts his guitar on his leg and leans over to his notebook.
Standing there leaning against the wall I say, “That was beautiful.”
I am watching these two brothers tear each other apart over their sister. It is both heart-breaking and heart-warming that they love her so much to care so deeply.
Stammering with more to say, Xander shakes his head, pointing his finger at River. “You think I don’t know that you hide your guilt on the inside. You can pretend you are happy with how Bell’s life turned out but I know different.”
Then he smiles sadly as he says, “You aren’t even the one who should feel guilty. A long time ago you asked me to, no not even, I told you that I would take Bell home so you could find this girl,” he says, pointing to me and then continuing, “You didn’t then, but you have now, so don’t let me or Bell or anyone else screw it up for you, but most of all, don’t let yourself screw it up.”
Pain flashes through me at Xander’s words. Am I really to blame for their sister’s accident? Should I have told River the truth when I first met him? Couldn’t I have just stuck around and told him the truth about Ben then? Would it have mattered? My head is spinning and I may be sick again.
Xander smiles sadly, his eyes glassy as he looks from his brother to me. “Dahlia, once again I’m sorry. It has been a shitty day and I took it out on you.”
Then looking back to River he puts his hand on his shoulder, but River flinches back. “Bro, I’ll call you tomorrow.” And with that, he turns and leaves us in the bathroom.
River walks back to me as tears fill my eyes again. Swiping my fingers under my eyes, I scrunch my forehead and purse my lips. “You should’ve been the one to tell me, not him,” I yell, pointing to the door, not in anger, but more because I am upset.
He stops in front of me and swallows. Exhaling a shaky breath, he looks into my eyes and gently cups my cheeks before whispering, “Dahlia that’s not how I wanted our relationship to start,” but I pull away before he can even finish. I don’t want his touch or his charm to cloud my judgment about where we stand with each other in light of the information I have just learned.
I stare back into his eyes as he flinches at my sudden movement. They are now hazy, no longer gleaming. “River,” I say a little softer, feeling the need to make sure he knows that an omission is still a lie. “I didn’t want our relationship to start like this either, but hiding things from me . . . I can’t, I won’t be in a relationship like that, but what’s more . . . what does this mean for us?” I manage to say this, feeling bad about the meaning behind my words before they even come out. But a lie is a lie, regardless of why it was told or how it was hidden. This I know well. I experienced it with Ben just that one time and it almost ended our relationship. But this time, with River, I seem to be more concerned about what this hidden secret will do to our relationship, than the actual secret itself.
He stands there, shaking his head. “I was going to tell you, but the right time just hadn’t happened yet.”
Averting my eyes from his, with a shaky breath I manage, “I need some air.”
I walk past him, through the dimly lit bar, and out the doors into the chill of the night. There is a cool breeze in the air, sending a shiver down my spine. As I walk to nowhere I know this time the shiver isn’t from his touch. Instead, it’s from the secret he kept from me. It’s from the cold of the night.
There are still so many people walking the quaint streets we languidly stepped down when we arrived, but the happiness I felt then is gone. The people seem to be more hurried as well. They are huddling together, almost rushing in and out of the many bars and restaurants that line the street.
November in California isn’t usually this cold, but the dampness seems to warn of impending rain. Glancing upward in hopes of seeing some light, finding some answers, all I see are thick clouds covering any stars that I might have seen. They only allow a glimpse of the moon’s slight crescent-shaped glow and provide no guidance. Looking ahead instead of up because I know I will find no comfort from the sky tonight, I continue to walk, clutching my own body to keep warm and wondering why life has to be so complicated.
“Here, put this on,” he says, taking his jacket off and wrapping it around my bare shoulders. He walks close to me, but doesn’t touch me. “If you want to go home, the car is the other way.” Maybe I’m not as sober as I thought.
Stopping, I turn to look at him. We are toe to toe. With tears in my eyes, I say words I don’t really want to say but know I have to. “River, I think it’s time for me to go back home.”
Slumping, he closes his eyes and whispers, “Not like this. Not until we talk about everything.”
My heart breaks as I look at him but I know I have to go. “I need some time to think River. I can’t do that here.”
His eyes snap to mine, and his voice cracks in anger. “What happened to my sister has nothing to do with us. You going home and thinking isn’t going to change that or even make you understand.”
Looking at him, I hear him but choose to ignore his words. I need time to think and not in my drunken state. “I can call Aerie or Serena to come pick me up if you don’t want to take me home.” Then, remembering I didn’t bring my phone, I ask, “Can I use your phone?”
River breaks, ignoring my request; his voice grows louder than he has ever spoken to me before. “Dahlia, are you listening to me? That shit that just happened in there, that’s Xander’s life.” Motioning his finger from me to him, he continues, “I am not going to let someone’s misconceived course of events change this.”
Grabbing my shoulders with his hands, he says, “You can’t just say you are leaving. You can’t leave me again.”
I shrug out of his grip, and sway slightly as I take a step. “That’s the point River, I’m not leaving you again. I never left you five years ago because I wasn’t with you.” Tears are uncontrollably sliding down my face, my teeth are chattering, and I am freezing but I continue with what must be said. “I met a guy at a bar that I was attracted to and before things got out of hand I left. Now I find out that some unmentionable horror happened to your family because of my actions and you think we’re going to be okay?”
He flinches at my tone but tenderly places his arms on my shoulders. Dunking down so we’re at eye level he says, “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It’s not like that.”
With complete honesty I say, “I just don’t know if I can do this. This thing we have is way more complicated than two people who are incredibly attracted to each other. Your brother is going crazy having me here. Does your sister even know any of this? And what about your mother! What will she say?”
“Dahlia! Listen to me!” he says, but I don’t. I can’t. I don’t want my heart to break again so instead I turn around and start walking in the other direction toward his car as he keeps pace. I navigate the sidewalk surprisingly well considering how foggy my brain feels. The air and life that was being sucked out of me becomes emptiness. Neither of us says another word. As we reach the parking garage, I just want to feel the bliss one more time, but I don’t think I will.
With my whole body shaking, I get into the car and wait for him to sit. Grabbing his cold cheeks, I look at him and I see he’s shaking as well. With tears in my eyes and sadness in my voice, I say what I know I’ve felt since Xander told me about his sister. “Here’s the thing River, I’ve already lost someone I loved, and it almost killed me. What I feel for you is so much more than I ever expected, and I know that if I stay here with you and begin to live again that I won’t survive losing you. And losing you is inevitable. We can’t be together if your family blames me for your sister’s accident. In the end, it will be our undoing.”
Shaking his head, he grabs my cheeks and forces me to look at him. “That’s just it Dahlia. No one blames anyone. Bell is happy. Our family is happy. It is Xander who can’t accept what happened. And to answer your question, yes my family knows about then and about now and they are happy for me, for us.” His eyes are glassy as he holds my gaze then leans in and kisses me. With that kiss I feel the air return to my lungs and life returns.
I pull away from his soft lips, confused in my current state of mind. I don’t know what to do, but I feel like this night has been a reality check. “I believe you, but it’s still time for me to stop playing house with you. I have to go home tomorrow.”
Chapter Twenty
LITTLE THINGS
Your hand fits in mine
Like it’s made just for me
It just makes sense that we were meant to be
I see the faint freckles on your nose
These are the little things I love about you.
“Dalhia,” he says, his tone is as dark and sad as the place I have lived for the past two years before meeting him. “One day, if you change your mind . . . just know you’ll always be my once in a lifetime.”
He presses kisses to my forehead and nose, then turns, leaving me at the front door to the house I shared with Ben for so many years. The house that is now empty is the house where, once again, I will be alone.
Fear starts to wretch through my body, not from being alone, but from being without him. Was I wrong in my decision? Did he not tell me for us? Can we get past this? My questions don’t really matter because it’s too late. I have already said things I shouldn’t have. I made the decision to end us.
“Don’t leave me,” I yell as he walks down the path leading to another life.
Turning and glancing at me over his shoulder, his eyes are no longer gleaming their perfect shade of green; they’re cloudy, hazy even. “I’m not,” he says as he keeps walking. “You left me, beautiful girl.”
Tears stream down my face as I let him go, and he fades into the horizon.
Waking, my body thrashes in the sheets, and my fists clutch the pillows.
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself as relief washes through me when I realize it was just a dream. No it wasn’t a dream; it was a nightmare. Reaching over, there is no one there to hold me. It hurts to not have him here with me. Waking up with him next to me the last few days has been amazing and I feel empty and alone in his room without him.
Licking my dry lips, I lift my aching head. “What time is it?” I ask to nobody but myself.
My heart is still pounding in my chest as I reach over to the nightstand and pick up my phone, plugged into its charger. The time on the screen reads 11:48am. How did I sleep in this late? I never sleep past sunrise. As I set my phone back down, I see a bottle of water and two aspirin off to the side on the nightstand.
Hearing the roaring of thunder and the howling of the wind from outside, I gladly pick up the water and aspirin. The aspirin are sitting on top of a yellow Post-it note River must have found them on the counter where I quickly dumped my messenger bag yesterday looking for a pen to sign for the deliveries.
Sitting up, I pop the aspirin in my mouth and swig the water in hopes of calming the storm riveting in my head. As I set the bottle and paper down, I notice something written on the Post-it.
Beautiful girl . . . In case you’re not feeling so great.
Stretching and grinning at his note, I glance around the room. Sheets are tacked over the glass doors. He must have done that so I could sleep. How sweet. How could he be so nice to me after I was such a bitch last night? Shit, last night. I remember every minute of the horrible evening, every minute of our painful conversation, but I don’t remember getting into bed.
Glancing down, I notice I’m only wearing one of River’s t-shirts and my panties. I must have passed out in the car. Did he bring me inside, up all those stairs, and change my clothes? The last thing I remember saying after leaving the parking garage was that I still wanted him to take me home, to my home, not his, but I’d wait until morning.
Deciding I need to find River and talk about last night, I stand on shaky legs and see my clothes lying on the floor beside the bed. Making my way to the bathroom, I look in the mirror. That was not a good decision. Makeup smears my face and my hair is a tangle of knots from all the hairspray. I really need a shower but settle for washing my face, brushing my teeth, and throwing my hair into a ponytail before going to search for him.
I don’t have to look far. As I walk down the hallway I hear soft music being played on a guitar. I stop at the entranceway to the living room to take him in. He’s sitting on the couch in jeans and a plain white t-shirt, barefoot, and his hair is a little more disheveled than usual. His fingers are holding a guitar pick and he’s strumming a beautiful melody while quietly singing an unfamiliar song that I can’t really hear the words to. He has a notebook and pen beside him and he’s deep in thought. I stand there awhile just listening, looking, thinking how unbelievably gorgeous he is both inside and out and how sad I am that I’m leaving. I decide to quietly go get my camera out of my bag in the bedroom. I want to capture his perfect image at this moment. As I tiptoe back and stand just inside the living room, watching him through my lens, I snap a few photos while he’s playing. He’s so involved in his work that he doesn’t even notice me or hear the click of the camera. When he finishes the song, he adjusts his guitar on his leg and leans over to his notebook.
Standing there leaning against the wall I say, “That was beautiful.”
