Torn
Page 4

 Kim Karr

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My tears spill over at his heartfelt words. I love him so much. He’s hugging me, not too tightly, but enough that I feel his love and I know he will always be mine. He kisses me again and says, “The instant you become Mrs. River Wilde I’m going to show you just how much.”
He grabs my hand and we head toward the door. “Amazing Grace” starts playing from my phone in the kitchen just as we’re about to leave and I turn back. “River, let me quickly grab that. I don’t want Grace to worry about me any more than she already has.”
I drop his hand and walk to the kitchen counter to answer my phone. “Hello?”
Chapter 2
Home
Ben’s Journal
I’m finally home and out of that conference room. I never expected to be back so I can’t say it’s been a long road but I can say I’m sure as shit glad to be here. I can’t believe I’m in Laguna, the place that I love, with all the people I love.
The suits reassured me, before leaving the office on Wilshire Boulevard, that my reappearance wouldn’t be made public until the trial. So I won’t have to deal with all the questions right now, except from my family and my girl. Seeing my mother was way more emotional than I expected. When one of the suits came in and told me she was talking to Special Agent Bass in the waiting room I tried not to lose my shit as I tore out of the room. I wanted to be there when they told her. I knew it would be a shock that I was really alive. That I wasn’t actually gunned down that night almost three years ago on my way to an awards ceremony while my girl watched it all go down from the car.
I ran through the hall and past the round gold seal of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the framed picture of the President, and the various most-wanted posters. The special agent talking to my mother was a woman and they were sitting in the corner of the room. Mom was crying so I knew she had been told and her tears made me instantly regret ever agreeing to leave. Her face was an emotional wreck and my remorse for the choice I made to leave, to not stay and turn this over to the FBI, weighed heavier than it ever had on my mind. But Caleb had taken things into his own hands and contacted them shortly after I left. So even though I hadn’t known it, they had been involved for some time.
When she looked up her mouth fell open, and I could see she was shaky, and unsure. She stood up and I walked over to her to assure her I was real. When I was standing in front of her, she blinked and then sighed before throwing her arms around me. I was overwhelmed. I hugged her for the longest time. She was always my biggest supporter. To her I could do no wrong—I was her golden boy, the son that looked just like his father, the man she had also loved unconditionally. When I pulled back I kept my voice soft and answered as many of her questions as I could.
Our brief but emotional reunion was interrupted when the suit ushered us forward. We were escorted back down the drab hallway and into the same conference room I had sat in for hours, but this time they left us alone. Looking at me, my mother broke down and I broke down along with her. I had missed her. She, like Dahl, was always there for me, always believed in me, and always loved me, no matter what. When she was finally able to compose herself enough to hear where I’d been for the past three years, I explained everything to her, including the events that brought me back home.
I tried not to give her too many details. Just enough so she could understand, but not too many that she’d grow more concerned.
Once we got home, she called Serena and Trent and they came right over. Serena was actually pissed at me at first—she yelled and screamed and then finally cried. Trent, on the other hand, wasn’t just happy; it was more like he was relieved. He looked jittery and I thought he might be on something. My mom looked really upset when I asked about it and I felt like she knew more than she was telling me. But all she said was that Serena was going through some stuff with him and had been having a hard time getting him to listen to her. We spent the rest of the day just talking and she told me how much she missed me.
I thought seeing Dahl would be the most important thing but after talking to Mom I knew right then that she needed me more. It wasn’t until later in the day that I got a chance to call Dahl, but Mom insisted we wait until tomorrow and that she be the one to do it. I really didn’t want to push, so I didn’t argue. She already seemed so stressed.
But I did ask her if Dahl was seeing anyone. She was hesitant to tell me anything at first, but she said there was a guy and Dahl had been seeing him for a while. I guess I can assume he’s the same guy Caleb told me about. It’s not that I didn’t want her to move on—I never thought I’d be back. But I just never thought I’d have to see it.
I also asked if Dahl had dated many guys and she told me no, just the one. I had hoped there were more because that would make her more like me. She would have been doing what I had been doing—trying to find a substitute for her. When I first got to New York I was lost. I had no one. For months I didn’t go out or talk to anyone. Then after a while I tried to date someone, but everything we did just brought me back to the life I left, the life I missed, and it wasn’t fair to that girl.
I started teaching that fall, but it didn’t help me forget Dahl. That Halloween I knew she needed me and I wasn’t there. I went out and got shitfaced and f**ked a girl that looked like her. That started me down a road I can’t even remember. Work, eat, drink, fuck. I never thought I’d see her again so I f**ked just about every tall blond I ran into. And New York was loaded with them. But I never stuck around . . . they weren’t her and I didn’t want to get that close.
Over time I stopped trying to replace her because no matter how much I wanted it, there was no substitute for her. As time went on it didn’t matter if the girl I f**ked was tall, short, blond, or brunette—they were just there to fill a need. My need to have Dahl in my life never went away, but I met Kimberly shortly after Caleb told me he had seen Dahl with some guy in the Hills. For some reason, although I hated that she had moved on, it brought me closure and I stopped f**king around. Kimberly and I started dating and after a few months, I found a happy medium. I was able to have a relationship and function almost like I used to. I didn’t screw around on her. I liked her enough. So yeah, maybe she looked a lot like Dahlia, but she didn’t act like her. She never called me on my shit and never put me in my place. We had a good sex life and a decent time together. She wasn’t needy and didn’t pressure me for more than I was willing to give. We had a good thing going.
Hopefully Dahl’s commitment to this guy is like my commitment to Kimberly—committed until something else came around. I was committed to Kimberly until I was told I could go back. I did call her and tell her I had an emergency back home and I’d be in touch soon. She didn’t know anything about where home was . . . I was always vague. She knew I was from California and she knew me as Alex. I didn’t want to explain anything different. So I haven’t talked to her since I left. I am going to call her—I owe her that. I just haven’t figured out what I am going to say.
I remember the hardest part of thinking about Dahl moving on was accepting that at one time I was the only one Dahl had ever been with. I had thought I would not only be her first, but also her last. Now I’ve lost that. And thinking back I wonder why I didn’t try harder to make our life together perfect. Is that why she has stayed with that new guy? It drives me crazy trying to figure out what she could see in him. There has to be something because of all the things that have happened in the last three days, what my mom told me about Dahl shocked the shit out of me most of all—she told me Dahl’s engaged. As if knowing someone else has touched her isn’t bad enough, hearing she’s going to marry another guy has torn my heart apart.
Chapter 3
Here and Now
We head to Grace’s house once I’ve changed into one of River’s shirts, a pair of jeans, and my Converse. I’m worried about what made Grace call and say she wants to talk to me in person. I hope she’s all right. She sounded like she had been crying when I spoke to her and the sense of urgency in her voice was clear.
My unease must be evident because River looks over and gives me a concerned look as he squeezes my hand tight. Then he gives me what I know is his fake smile, hoping to reassure me. I want to ask him what he thinks she wants to talk about but I’m afraid of what he will say. What if Grace or Serena or Trent isn’t well? My throat tightens and I pick up the bottle of water I brought with me, slowly twisting the cap and taking a big gulp.
His phone sits in the pseudo-ashtray, charging, and I jump when it rings. “Charlotte Tyler” flashes across the screen. As I reach to grab it, he covers my hand. “Let’s not answer my mom’s calls right now. I think Xander suspected something when I talked to him earlier. He probably mentioned it to Mom and now she’s calling to find out what’s going on.”
I nod my head as the phone stops ringing; he picks it up and holds down the top button, turning it off. I turn the radio on and stare out the window, but when Gavin DeGraw’s “I’m in Love with a Girl” comes on, I quickly reach to turn it off. I can’t listen to that song. It always reminds me of the last time I saw Ben.
I’ve never been so grateful to see the stone driveway leading to Grace’s beach house, as I am right this minute. As soon as the car is parked, River brings my hand to his mouth and kisses it before turning the ignition off. I can’t take my eyes off him, and I know I’m probably squeezing his hand too tight. “I’m sorry we had to postpone leaving for Las Vegas, but Grace sounded like she really needs me.”
He returns my quick smile. “Beautiful girl, we are going to be together for the rest of our lives. Another few hours or another few days doesn’t change anything. Let’s see what Grace wants. And who knows, we might still make it to the airport later tonight.”
He opens my door for me and we walk down the path to the front porch. Looking behind me, I catch sight of Caleb parking in the large U-shaped driveway. It’s a little ridiculous that he followed us all the way here but now is not the time to discuss it. I also see Serena’s car in the driveway near the garage and my concern turns to full-out worry. I take a deep calming breath as I open the front door. “Grace? We’re here. Sorry it took so long, there was a lot of traffic,” I call out as I lead River into the house I’ve always considered a home.
The large family room is dimly lit and Grace stands on the other side in the kitchen doorway. I look around but don’t see Serena or Trent anywhere. I notice the room seems to be in a bit of disarray. Shopping bags on the floor, a duffel bag thrown at the bottom of the stairs, and a stack of newspapers on the desk. Seeing us, she swiftly turns and walks back in the room. She wipes tears away as she approaches and I know for sure something is terribly wrong. The feeling grows when she pulls me in for a long embrace. “Dahlia,” she sobs as she hugs me for what seems like hours. When she steps back she cups both my cheeks. “Oh my darling girl, I’m just not sure how to do this.” She drops her hands and gives River an odd look, quickly hugging him as well.
Serena enters the room with a tray holding a pot of coffee and mugs. She sets it down on the table and says, “Dahlia, River, you’re here.” Then she furrows her brow at Grace and says, “Mom, come on and sit down. Give Dahlia some room to breathe.” I can tell Serena has been crying, too, and my worry becomes full-out panic. I turn to River for reassurance and he grabs my hand and follows Grace, leading me to the large overstuffed sofa in the middle of the room.
I sit down next to Grace with River on the other side of me. “Grace, what’s the matter? You’re freaking me out.”
Tears are streaming down her face and they’re soon mimicked by my own. I look to Serena for comfort, but she, too, is crying. “What’s going on?” My heart has started pounding quicker and quicker with every passing second. When no one answers, I squeeze River’s hand so tightly it actually pulses in mine.
Finally, Serena clears her throat and speaks. “Dahlia, River, we have something to tell you. I know it’s going to be a . . .” I try to listen but can’t help but tune her out as I see a shadow walking toward us from the kitchen. When I look up I see an image of Ben. I gasp and my stomach clenches. Am I dreaming? This can’t be real. He’s dead. I know he is. What’s wrong with me? I clench River’s hand even harder and start to worry that maybe I’m suffering from a head injury. I close my eyes hoping my hallucination will be gone when I reopen them, but it’s not. I am so confused. I’m also really scared.
He stops moving and stands on the other side of the table. I hear voices, but no words. I hear River’s voice. I hear Ben’s voice. I hear someone crying. Wait—this can’t be Ben. I remember crying when he died. I remember sitting in the pew between Grace and Serena, gripping both their hands while listening to Father John recite the Final Commendation and Farewell. Grace leaned against me and I leaned against Serena. I remember the tears they cried, the tears I cried. They were all cried for him—because he was dead.
I remember the painful final chorus of amens before the pallbearers loaded his ivory casket into the hearse that brought him to his final resting place. I remember saying goodbye to him as they lowered him into the ground. I said goodbye a million times after that.
Yet for some reason, despite knowing that he’s gone, I can still see him. He’s standing in front of me. I stare at the figure that looks so much like Ben. No, not just looks like Ben—it is Ben. I see a face that’s completely unreadable to me. Eyes that are as blue as I remember them. Hair that’s shorter than I remember, but still wavy and dirty blond. Clothes that look like his—lightweight hoody and cargo shorts. Soft tears are falling down his cheeks. This figure looks the same as Ben, but somehow different at the same time. Older maybe? Still beautiful, though. Still Ben in every way. He sniffs a little, which makes the figure seem even more real, and I have to go see for myself that it isn’t. I stand up, drop River’s hand and slowly, cautiously, walk toward it. My fists clench, my heart pounds, and fear wrenches through my entire body. I feel the prickle of stares from everyone in the room. I know River is talking to me but I’m not listening. I have to figure out what this is that I see.