Текст книги "A Lover's Lament "

Автор книги: K. L. Grayson

Соавторы: B. T. Urruela
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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

“Carry On”—fun

“WYATT—”

“Come on, Katie,” he says, cutting me off, “I’ve been your best friend for years. And I was your fiancé, for cryin’ out loud!” Doesn’t he realize that this isn’t going to change anything?

Looking at my watch, I notice the time. “Wyatt,” I say, sighing, “can we talk about this later? I’m going to be late for my appointment.” Pushing the driver’s side door open, I step out of my car, shut the door behind me and click the lock before heading toward Dr. Perry’s office.

“Just say yes,” he says before giving a muffled apology for raising his voice. “Hell, you’ve already said yes, you just haven’t followed through yet. It’s dinner. One dinner. Give this to me, please.”

“Fine,” I relent, mostly because I’m getting tired of hearing him beg, and I’m hoping that I’ll be able to prove to him—once and for all—that we are over.

“Really?” I almost laugh at the shock in his voice. “Okay then. How about Friday night?”

“Friday night is fine.” Pulling on the door to the building, a gust of wind catches it and I grunt, trying to get it open.

“What time should I pick you up?”

Blowing a chunk of hair out of my face, I shrug out of my jacket and drape it over my arm. “You aren’t picking me up. This isn’t a date. I’ll meet you at Bobby’s at six.”

“Bobby’s?”

“Yes, Bobby’s.” I knew he wouldn’t like that. Bobby’s is a bustling café that is usually packed full of college students. It’s not a good place at all for someone who wants to have a nice, intimate dinner—which is exactly what Wyatt wants. “Now I have to go. I’ll see you then.” I hang up before he finishes saying goodbye.

Walking up to the building, I pull open the door and step into Dr. Perry’s waiting room.

“Good morning, Katie.”

“Morning.” I smile, signing in at the front desk before taking a seat against the wall.

“You can actually head on back. Dr. Perry is ready for you.”

“Thank you.” I drop the magazine I had just picked up and weave my way to Dr. Perry’s office. She’s already sitting in her plush chair, waiting for me with a giant smile on her face.

“Long time, no see, Miss Devora.”

“Yes, well, it’s been a long week,” I say, hanging my jacket on her coat rack before walking over to that beautiful floral-print couch that I love so damn much. Not.

“Tell me about it.”

I can’t stifle the laugh as I drop onto the worn cushion. “How did I know you were going to say that?” Dr. Perry laughs too, and without a second thought, I tell her absolutely everything that’s happened. We talk about Devin, and how I not only forgave him but let him back into my heart. We talk about Bailey and Wyatt and Mama, and when I’m finally done telling her everything about everything, she leans back in her chair and simply stares at me with a huge grin plastered to her face.

“What? What’s that look for?”

“I’m speechless.” She laughs again. “I don’t really even know where to go with all that.”

“Well, you could start with Devin. Do you think I’m stupid for letting him back in?”

“Do you think you’re stupid for letting him back in?”

“Nice deflection.”

“Thank you.” She nods, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

“I think it feels right. I think it’s the most right I’ve felt since before my dad died … hell, it’s probably the most right I’ve felt since before Devin left ten years ago. It’s like as soon as I opened my heart up to the possibility of letting him back in, all the remaining resentment and sadness over what happened with him just went away. Suddenly, the gaping hole in my heart wasn’t so empty anymore, and I like that feeling.” My shoulders relax as though I needed to get those words out.

“Sometimes in life, we have to go with our heart instead of our head,” Dr. Perry says, offering me a gentle smile “We have to trust that our heart will lead us on the right path, even if it’s not the path we originally expected to be on.” I nod, waiting for her to continue, waiting for her to give me the confirmation that I’ve already given myself. She smirks and shakes her head. “You’re not stupid, you’re human, and you’re in love.”

I suck in a sharp breath.

In love?

Am I in love?

Don’t get me wrong, my feelings are still strong … but in love?

“Don’t think too hard about that.” Dr. Perry scribbles something on her notepad before dropping it on the table between us. “It’s just an observation and not something you should be scared of. You’re an incredibly intelligent woman, Katie. You just managed to get off track, but I’m not really worried about you.”

“You’re not?” Really? Because I’m sort of worried about me.

“No.” Dr. Perry shakes her head and pushes a chunk of hair behind her ear. “You’ve got an amazing support system. I’ve watched you grow stronger every single time you’ve come in, and you’re starting to make tough choices without getting overwhelmed. Plus, when you walked in here earlier, you looked lighter than I’ve ever seen you look. You looked happy.”

“I am happy.”

“Good.”

“Can we talk about Wyatt now?”

Dr. Perry tosses her head back and laughs. “Absolutely! Let’s talk about Wyatt.”

“Am I leading him on by going to dinner with him?”

“No,” she states firmly. “You know what you want, and that’s Devin. What you’re giving Wyatt is closure, and I think it’s something that he deserves.”

Well, I didn’t think of it that way. “Closure, huh?”

“You didn’t get closure when Devin left you. He just took off, and you were stuck behind to pick up your own pieces.” I cringe when her words bring up an onslaught of memories—bad ones—but I get where she’s coming from. “It seems Wyatt still needs closure, and maybe one last dinner will help drill home the fact that you haven’t changed your mind.”

“Alright.” I nod. “How about Bailey?”

“Who’s asking the questions here?”

“You are,” I say, grinning.

“More than likely, Bailey feels guilty for the way she’s been pushing you on top of everything you’ve gone through. Cut her some slack. She’s your sister.”

“So next time I see her, I just hug her and tell her I love her?” Because that’s really what I want to do.

“I bet she would love that.”

“I bet you’re right.”

“Now it’s my turn.” Dr. Perry folds her hands in her lap, and the smile slowly falls. “Let’s talk about Andrew Drexler.”

The first thing I notice is that when she says his name, I don’t instantly panic. My body doesn’t freeze up and my blood doesn’t start to boil. “What about him?”

“Have you read his letter yet?”

It’s sitting on my dresser at home. “Nope.”

“Is there a reason why you haven’t?”

I’m scared. “I haven’t had time.” My words come out more like a question and less like the statement I was going for.

Dr. Perry notices. “Haven’t had time or haven’t made time?”

“I’ve just come really far … at least I feel like I have.”

“You have,” she confirms.

“And I don’t want him to set me back. I don’t want to go back to that place.”

Dr. Perry cocks her head to the side, her eyebrows furrowing. “You won’t.” Her words are laced with so much conviction that I almost believe her.

“How do you know?”

“Trust yourself, Katie. You’re ready for this, and I think it’s the closure that you need.”

She’s right.

I’ve felt so good these past couple of days, but something is still off—something that feels unresolved. Maybe it’s this. “Okay,” I say, pushing up from the couch. “But I better go do it now before I talk myself out of it.”

“By all means”—Dr. Perry stands and motions toward the door—“go get your closure.”

I slip on my coat, grab my purse and pull open the door, and then I turn back to Dr. Perry. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Katie.” The look of pride on her face is unmistakable, and it gives me that extra push I need. “I’ll see you next week.”

No goodbye is needed. I simply give her a smile and step out of her office, determined to get home so I can read that letter.

My arms hang loosely at my sides before I shake them out as though I’m preparing to go for a run. Everything inside of me is screaming to do this, to get this over with, but the blood pumping in my ears is making it difficult to concentrate.

Closing my eyes, I count to ten while taking several slow, deep breaths. When I open my eyes, they instantly land on a photo of Devin and me that I found in a shoebox tucked away in my closet. We were probably about ten years old. His arm is draped around my shoulders, mine wrapped around his back. We both have mud caked to our faces and he’s holding up a catfish. I’m not sure what it is, but there’s something about that picture—that memory—that gives me courage.

Pulling open the top drawer of my dresser, I pull out the letter that my mom gave me several days ago. The envelope is stark white but worn around the edges, a telltale sign that it’s been passed around and most likely opened numerous times.

Slipping my finger under the flap, I open the envelope and pull out the letter. My hands shake as I unfold it, and when I see handwriting scribbled across the paper, my heart nearly pounds out of my chest.

With the letter gripped in one hand, I situate myself on the bed, propping up on the pillows.

“Come on, Katie,” I whisper, giving myself one last pep talk. “You’ve got this.”

Dear Brenda,

I’m sorry doesn’t seem like enough, but I’ll say it anyway. I’ll repeat those words over and over again for as long as you need. I don’t expect your forgiveness, and it’s not something I’ll ever ask for, because I don’t deserve it. I hurt you in a way that no human being should ever hurt another human being, and for that I’m truly sorry.

There’s no excuse for my actions that night. I made a stupid decision and I got behind the wheel drunk. My lawyer tried to play it off that I’m scarred from my time served overseas, but I insisted that he stop. I didn’t allow him to play the same card that so many other soldiers use as an excuse. What I’ve witnessed and gone through while at war holds no bearing over my actions that night.

But I do want to tell you what happened because you deserve to hear. My buddy Tom and I went out for dinner. I hadn’t seen him since high school graduation and we were enjoying our time catching up. One beer led to another and then another, and before I knew it, I’d had close to seven beers. At the time, I thought I was good. Hell, I used to drink way more than that in college. But what I didn’t take into consideration was that I hadn’t had a lick of alcohol in over two years. Again, not an excuse, but I really want you to know what happened and why.

Anyway, I left the restaurant that evening knowing I shouldn’t drive, but I didn’t have anyone else to call. Tom had had more to drink than I did, so I decided to drive home. The house I was renting was only a mile down the road, so no big deal, right?

A half a mile from home I crossed the center line, and in the blink of an eye, I took someone’s life—someone who, from what I’ve been told, was a loving husband, devoted father, and one hell of a farmer. But I know I didn’t just take one life that night, I took four. I recognize that, in losing your husband, I managed to destroy not only your life but also the lives of your two daughters.

I hate that I survived. I would give anything to trade places with your husband, and I want you to know that I think about him—and about you and your daughters—every second of every day. I’ve prayed for your happiness and for comfort for your girls, and I hope that someday you’re able to find peace despite the disaster that I caused.

Sincerely,

Andrew Drexler

I read the letter three more times before dropping it at my side. My pulse is steady and calm, not rapid and uneven like I anticipated it would be. Tears are running down my face because I believe that Andrew Drexler is truly sorry for destroying our lives. I do think that he would move heaven and earth to trade places with my dad, and that belief releases a rope of tension that I didn’t realize was wrapped around my heart.

Something inside of me opens up, and as I swipe away the tears running down my face, I notice that I’m smiling. I’m actually smiling. I’m not sure what I was expecting from Andrew Drexler’s letter, but it sure as hell wasn’t this.

But I’ll take it, because Dr. Perry was right. I needed this closure. I needed the opportunity to listen to his apology and make my decision whether or not to accept it. I’m damn glad I read his letter, and now I know why my mom and sister have accepted things so much easier than I have.

They opened their heart way before I did and they forgave him. They accepted Andrew’s apology for what it was, they grieved the loss of their loved one and did what Daddy would want them to do.

Suddenly, the need to write Andrew Drexler back slams into me like a freight train, and I jump up, grab my notebook and a pen off my dresser, and drop back down on the bed. Opening up the notebook, I situate it on my knee. I’m ready to give my heart the closure that it needs, and I as I transfer the words from my head to my heart and onto paper, I realize that it wasn’t really closure that I needed, just love. Because the love of my family and my love for my dad ultimately led me to be able to forgive.

Dear Andrew,

I forgive you.

Thank you for serving our country. Thank you for your letter of apology. I hope that you’re able to find the same peace that I have.

Sincerely,

Katie Devora

“Break Your Plans”—The Fray

“DEVIN?” A DULL BUZZ IS crackling through the line, and that coupled with the noise coming from my living room makes it hard to hear. Pushing up from the couch, I hold my hand over the receiver. “I’ll be right back,” I whisper to the room full of cackling women.

Mom and Bailey both smile and nod, but leave it to Maggie to open her big ol’ mouth. “Who’s on the phone?” she asks as she refills everyone’s wine glasses.

“Devin—”

“Oooh, Devin,” she croons before I even finish. Rolling my eyes, I walk out of the room as she yells, “No phone sex. It’s not polite while you have company over.” I hear my mom and Bailey crack up just as I shut my bedroom door.

“Devin?” At first I think I lost him—a dropped call or something—but then I swear I hear him breathing through the phone. “Devin? Are you there?”

“Katie.”

“Hey! I thought I lost ya.” Yanking the covers back on my bed, I climb in and prop myself up against the headboard.

“Um …” Devin clears his throat. “My day … it, uhh … shit.”

His voice is too gentle, his thoughts too scattered, and the hairs on the back of my neck instantly stand up. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are your men okay?” I ask, pushing myself upright as though it’ll help me hear him better. My body tenses as I wait for his answer.

“No,” he breathes. I hear rustling as though he’s moving around or running a hand over his face. “I mean, yes. I’m okay, and my men are okay.”

“Oh, good,” I say, feeling my tightly coiled muscles relax.

“But I do have something to tell you.”

“Looks like we’ll be on the phone a while then,” I say, settling back against the bed, “because I’ve had one hell of a day, and boy, do I have some stuff to tell you. But you first.”

“My mom died.” His words come out flat and completely lifeless, and it takes a couple of seconds for my mind to process what he said.

“What?” I gasp, flinging myself out of bed. “Oh my God, Devin.” Tears spring to my eyes and I shake my head. “I’m so sorry.” My heart aches, not because Josephine is gone—as bitchy as that might sound—but it aches for Devin. She may have been a shitty mother, and I had hopes that Devin would be able to find peace where she is concerned, but she’s still his mom and now that’s no longer an option.

He doesn’t respond, although I’m not really sure what I expect him to say. I know the numbness that he’s probably feeling right about now. Hell, I’ve been there—and not that long ago. “What can I do? I want to help. Please tell me what I can do.”

Devin sucks in a breath and I swear I hear him sniff. That sound absolutely breaks my heart. Closing my eyes, an image of a ten-year-old Devin pops into my head. We were sitting by the creek and he was crying because of something his mom said, and I can picture him now, a grown man grieving the loss of the woman who’s caused so much pain in his life. She doesn’t deserve his tears.

“I’m going home,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I get a four-day leave.”

He’s coming home? Oh my gosh, he’s coming home! “You’re coming home.” It’s not a question, just something I repeat to convince myself that what I heard is true. Excitement bubbles up inside of me, and despite what he just told me about his mother, I can’t stop the smile from erupting on my face.

“I’ll be home early Friday.”

“Okay,” I breathe. My mind instantly starts making a list of what I have to do to be able to go see him.

I’ll actually get to see him.

I’ll get to touch him, and hold him, and kiss him.

I’ll get to tell him—

“I was hoping you could come … you know, out to Pennsylvania … to see me.” There is insecurity in his words that softens my heart. I obviously haven’t done a good enough job of convincing him that I really do want us, and everything that goes along with that.

“I’ll be there. I don’t want you to go through that alone.” And he would have to go through it alone. Devin has no one. His father has been absent for longer than I can remember, and he’s an only child.

“You will?” he asks, his voice full of disbelief. “You’re going to fly out there?”

“Yes,” I say. “Of course, I’ll have to rearrange a few things. I’m supposed to work on Saturday and Sund—”

“You don’t have to take off, Katie.”

“Stop it,” I scoff, walking out of my bedroom and into the kitchen. I pull my work schedule out of the drawer to see who’s off that might want to pick up some extra shifts. “I want to take off; it’s just short notice so I’ll have to find my own coverage.”

My mind drifts to all the other things I’ll have to do like book a flight and find a hotel—because I don’t want to be presumptuous and assume that Devin wants me to stay the night with him. And honestly, I don’t even know where Devin will be staying.

“I’m getting a hotel,” he says, catching my attention.

“Huh?”

“You said you don’t know where I’ll be staying.” Shit. Saying stuff out loud is becoming a habit for me. “I’ll be staying at a hotel, and if you come, you’ll stay with me.”

The way he says that, as though I don’t really have a choice, causes my mind to conjure up all of the things I’ll get to do to—I mean with, do with—Devin over the next four days.

“Okay,” I say, cringing when my words come out way too raspy.

“Other than take off work, what else do you have to do?” he asks. “You’ve got someone to help with the farm, right?”

“Yes. I’m not worried about the farm, and other than that, I’ll just have to cancel dinner plans with Wyatt and—”

“Dinner plans with Wyatt?” he interrupts in a tone I haven’t heard in about a decade.

Dropping my work schedule on the table, I stand up straight. Did I hear him right? Is he mad? He can’t be mad; I haven’t even had a chance to tell him why I was having dinner with Wyatt.

“Yessss,” I drawl out. “Wyatt asked me to dinner Friday night, and with everything that’s happened, I felt the least I could do is meet with him.” Plus, it’ll be nice to tell Wyatt about Devin myself before he ends up hearing about it through the grapevine. It sounds asinine, I’m sure, considering that I still haven’t seen Devin. But if he really is coming home on leave in less than two months, and we really do decide to give this a whirl—which we are, otherwise I’m kicking him in the damn balls—then everyone will find out anyway.

The last thing I want is for Wyatt to think I broke things off with him to be with Devin, because that’s far from the truth. Plus, I was hoping Wyatt would be able to get some closure, once and for all.

“So you said yes?”

“Of course I did.” My brows furrow, and I bring my hand to my hip. “He was my best friend for years, Dev. He picked up the pieces that you left behind, and—” Devin sighs and I close my eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad … and I’m sorry, but it’s true. You have to understand that he’s been there for me through everything, and I broke his heart. He needs closure and I owe that to him.”

“Fine.” My blood runs cold at the sound of Devin’s voice. “I understand. Do whatever you’ve got to do.”

“Don’t be like that,” I plead. “The dinner means nothing, and I’m going to cancel it, just like I’m going to find a way to get off work. I promise you, I will try my absolute hardest to make sure I’m there with you the entire time you’re home, okay?”

“Okay.”

What? That’s it?

“Devin, I—”

“Look,” he says curtly, “I’ve gotta go pack. I’ll email you my itinerary. You just let me know if you’re able to rearrange your busy schedule.”

“Excu—” I pull the phone back and stare at it.

Did he just hang up on me?

“Katie?” I look up at the sound of my mom’s soft voice and find her standing in the doorway of the kitchen. “Is everything okay?”

“Josephine passed away.”

“Oh no,” she croons, stepping further into the room. “What happened?”

“I …” It hits me all at once that I didn’t even bother to ask him how his mom died, and I instantly forget that I’m mad at him. “I don’t know.”

“How’s Devin holding up?”

“Not good, from the sounds of it,” I answer, looking down at my phone and then up at her. “He’s shutting down.” I should know. I was the queen of shutting down for several months. “I can hear it in his voice.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing he has you, isn’t it?” she says, pulling me into her arms. “Because you know a little something about that, and maybe you’ll be able to help when you get to him.”

“How did you know I was going to him?” I ask, pulling away from her just a fraction.

“Because you love him.”

“He’s your lobster,” Maggie sings, sashaying into the room with Bailey following close behind.

Mom laughs and gives her a sidelong glance. “You and that damn lobster.”

“Hey,” she says, holding up her hands, “blame Phoebe.” She walks up to the table and grabs my work schedule. “What’s this for?”

Mom fills her and Bailey in on what little I told her, and then Maggie turns to me. “I’m off those days; I’ll pick them up for you.”

“Really? Maggie, you just made my freakin’ year.” Stepping out of Mom’s arms, I walk straight over to Maggie and pull her in for a hug.

“That’s what friends are for. Plus, Sean is out of town, so the extra work will keep me out of trouble.”

“I love you, Mags. You know that, right?”

“Of course you do,” she says and laughs, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. “What’s not to love? I’m amazing.”

“And conceited,” Bailey mumbles, earning herself a slap on the arm from Mom.

“I’ll owe you big time,” I say at the same time Maggie pulls away from me.

“Nope.” Gripping my shoulders, she spins me around and leads me to my bedroom. “You owe me nothing.” Pulling my suitcase from the closet, she tosses it on the bed and opens it up. “You’re my best friend, Kit Kat, and I want you to be happy. Now get packed and then I’ll help you book a flight.”

“Thank you.”

“You can thank me when you see the lingerie I’ve got waiting for you at home. I’ll get it for you later, but you’re taking it with you.”

“First, I’m not taking lingerie with me.” Because how fucking embarrassing would that be if I took lingerie and then we didn’t even … bowchickawowwow. “Second, why in the world do you have lingerie for me? You just found out about this trip.”

“It was something I picked up for your bachelorette party, but since you went all Runaway Bride on me, I figure I’ll give it to you now.”

“I didn’t go all Runaway Bride,” I argue, giving her my best pouty face.

“Semantics.” She waves her hand through the air, and I can’t help but laugh at her crazy ass. “There was going to be a wedding, now there’s not. We don’t really need to hash it out any more, especially since you’ve got more important things to do.”

Spinning on her heel, Maggie walks out of the room and I’m left staring at my empty suitcase, wondering what in the hell I’m going to pack. My gaze drifts to the picture of Devin and me that’s tucked in the frame of my mirror. I walk over to my dresser, pick up the photo and run my thumb across it.

“Ten years,” I whisper to myself. Closing my eyes, I send a silent prayer up to the big man … God, or my Dad … right about now, I’ll take either one.

Please don’t let him break my heart again.