Chapter Fifty-Two
“Oh, Bailey. It’s good to see you, dear.” He hugged her warmly, and she ushered him into the living room. “One of my favorites, you know that?”
“Is that your professional opinion, Harold?”
“Oh, heck, girl. I’m too close to retirement to worry about the professional part of my job. You’re a good kid. You’ve been a joy.”
“You realize I’m on parole for vehicular homicide, right?”
He chuckled for a moment. “You realize I cheat at golf every time I play, and I have a shit short game. No one’s perfect. We do the best we can.”
“Harold.” He peered at her, and he must have seen the seriousness in her expression because his face suddenly looked concerned. “I think I need to go back to Memphis.”
“You think, do you?”
She nodded. “I know. I think maybe being alone will be good for me for a while. Self-sufficient, independent.”
He smiled, but he shook his head. “People say that about relationships when they break up, not in reference to isolating themselves in a town where they know no one.”
“It’ll be an adventure.” She was trying to sound convincing.
“That it’ll be for sure.” He wasn’t buying it, given the look on his face. “You realize your PO there isn’t your biggest fan. Don’t know what you did to piss him off, but boy, does that man dislikes you.”
“I think I said ‘duh’ at an inopportune time.”
He chuckled. “So, you know I’ve seen your file, right?” She nodded. “And you know it’s my job to look into things like where you’re staying and whose phone number it is you give me to reach you at when you arrive in town. You can’t possibly think I missed whose name is on the mailbox.” Her eyes instantly teared, and he looked guilty. “Is that what you’re running from?” She shook her head. It was a lie. Of course she was running from him.
“Crazy to think we could be friends. Crazier to think we could be more.” She glanced at him, looking for the incredulity, but there was nothing but a sweet smile.
“Not a crazy bone in your body.”
She stared at the couch between them, and she fought the emotion roiling under the surface. She didn’t want to face the world alone. She wasn’t ready to accept that her mother was gone. She wasn’t ready to walk back into their apartment and deal with her memories. But then, she’d never been ready for any of the bullshit that had happened in her life. Instead of fighting the emotion, she gave up, letting the tears sit on the lower rims of her eyelids.
“You’re decided, huh?”
She nodded her head as her nose scrunched up to fight the tears. “Afraid so.” She could barely get the words out, and she looked away as her tears fell.
He took her hand and held it. He said nothing for a long while, and she stared out the window, letting her tears fall with no restraint.
“Like I said, one of my favorites.” He patted her hand, and she turned back, forcing a teary-eyed smile to her face. “So now, what’s with the clothes? Looks like you’re ready to run a marathon?” He was trying, and he usually succeeded, to lighten the mood.
She laughed. “Marathon? No, not me. A good jog can do wonders for the brain, though.”
“So I’ve heard. As I’ve mentioned, I prefer to burn my calories cheating on the golf course.” He had her laughing again as they stood. She walked with him to his car with Macy in tow. He hugged Bailey tightly, and she was left fighting the tears again. Before he pulled away, he tugged the ponytail that was holding her hair back. “For the record, no one’s better off alone.”
She stood back as he climbed into his car—her contradiction-in-terms parole officer who treated her more like a grandchild than a convict. She watched as his car rolled away from her down the long driveway, disappearing into the thick woods.
“Come on, Macy. One last run. Just you and me, girl.” Macy barked, bounced, and bounded into the woods and down the trail.
Chapter Fifty-Three
He slammed on the brakes as he rounded a bend in his lane and came bumper-to-bumper with an economical-looking sedan with an older man behind the wheel. He didn’t need to meet the man to know who he was. He’d left the hospital as early as he could, but it wasn’t early enough, and now here was the man he’d been trying to catch up to. Not him so much as her before she could get to him.
They jockeyed their cars around on the narrow lane to pass one another, and when they were side-by-side, he stopped and rolled his window down. The man had a kind face, and from what Bailey had mentioned to him of her PO, he was good to her—far more so than he’d been.
“She’s leaving?”
“This really isn’t a conversation I should be having with you.”
“Does it really matter at this point?”
The man studied him for a moment, and he finally smiled. “How about you talk her out of it for us both. Hate to lose my favorite parolee.” He winked at Darren and nodded his head before he rolled his window back up without another word. His car ambled down his lane, and Darren watched him in the rearview mirror for a moment before he put his SUV back in gear.
He hollered for her the moment he got inside. He was terrified of having this conversation, but he was more terrified of losing her. His home was empty, and her running shoes were gone. He dressed quickly and took off down the path. It was hard not to think about the day he found her bloody and hurt on the trail, and he focused on his legs, moving forward and getting closer to her. He didn’t know if she was upset or not. He didn’t have a clue what to expect at all.
The run had never taken so long in his life, though his pace was likely faster than usual. He was just desperate to get to her before the decision she’d already made was concretely set in her mind. He couldn’t allow himself to believe her mind was made up. Not when there was so much yet for him to say, and so much she needed to understand.
When he came into the clearing at the outcropping, she was there. She was sitting still as a statue near the edge of the outcropping where it fell away below. Macy sat next to her, quiet and calm—not at all Macy’s style.
“Bay.” He panted as he came to a stop ten feet from her. Her eyes flashed to him, and he saw the tears. They were beautifully restrained. She wasn’t crying, she wasn’t shaking in hitching sobs at all. She was just sitting. Her expression was distant and oddly calm. She smiled weakly at him, and his heart melted.
“Can I tell you a story?” Her voice was strong, and he just watched her. “About a little girl who had a crush on a boy once—a very, very special boy.” She smiled again through the tears that had started to trickle down her cheeks. He was having a hard time not joining her. “She told her best friend once she was going to marry him someday.” She was lost in a recollection he knew nothing about, and her face was peaceful as she talked. “Her best friend was excited because that would make them sisters. Of course, they were only twelve and that was a big deal to them.” Her tears started falling freely then, and his eyes watered.
“Bailey—” It was all he could manage, but she cut him off quickly.
“But that little girl made a mistake—the most unforgivable mistake, and she destroyed the only man she’d ever loved and had ever wanted to love.” Her breath hitched, and then she let out a sob. Just one sob that she couldn’t rein in.
But that’s all it took for him. “No! She didn’t screw up. He did.” He closed the space between them, dropping to his knees beside her and pulling her face to look at him. “I did.” He was looking for her understanding. “I did. Me.” He stared at her as he waited for something, but she just looked back, her tears falling to her cheeks.
When he sat down facing her side, he pulled her onto his lap to straddle him. His hands found her cheeks again, and he held her still, looking at her, pleading with her to understand what he was saying. “Stay.”
“Darren. . .” She shook her head, and his guts clenched.
“Stay.”
“I can’t.” Her voice was hitching.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t think you want this for the right reasons.”
“I love you. What’s wrong with that reason?”
“You don’t love me.”
“I. Love. You.”
“No! You used to love me.”
“I love you still. I love you again. I just love you. I’ve always loved you.” He was speaking passionately, and he wouldn’t release her cheeks.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Yes. This is not some memory. I’m not reminiscing. I loved you then, and I’ve fallen completely in love with you all over again. Stay. Please. I’m begging you to give me a chance.”
“Darren . . . I’m scared you’re going to hurt me.” She was sobbing, and the words she spoke were the most painful words he’d ever heard in his life. His insides knotted in desperation.
“I know you are.” His voice was the one lurching and stuttering in barely stifled emotion this time. “I’ve withheld what you’ve needed most from me, and I’ve been so wrong to do it.” She watched him, her brow furrowed, and her lips pursed. “I forgive you.”
He studied her eyes, and she shook her head. “No, you don’t. You can’t, and I understand—”
“I forgive you. I do. And I will do whatever I have to do to convince you of that. I will never let our past stand in the way of our future. I promise you. Whatever it takes.” His own tears were threatening to fall, and he watched as her shoulders shook as she cried. He pulled her body to his, clutching her in his arms. “I forgive you.” He kept repeating it, thinking it had to sink in. She had to understand. And when he pulled back to look at her face, her stunning eyes glistened, and she touched his lips, but he had more to say. “There was a moment, the day you stood on my second-floor landing, and you showed me just how ugly I’d become. And in that moment I was so ashamed of how I’d spoken about you, and I realized I hated the person I’d become, and more than that, I didn’t feel any of that—not one ounce of the cruel things I said were a reflection of how I felt about you; it was a reflection of how I felt about me, about who I’d become, about my life, about everything . . . everything but you. I’ve figure something out, and I’m not going to forget it. I’m allowed to forgive you. I know that now. It just took me some time to figure it out.” He tried for a smile, but as his cheeks tightened, a tear fell down, and her lips trembled. It was a start.
Her fingers trailed gently over his lips again, and he waited. They were sitting on top of the world with the beautiful hills and lake and trees surrounding them. It was their world, and they belonged in it together.
“I love you.” She whispered it as she looked at his lips.
“Then stay.”
She swallowed, and her brow flinched. He could feel his lips trembling, and his cheeks were wet with his own tears. But then she nodded, and her head sank to his shoulder. His arms tightened around her, and he breathed deeply for what felt like the first time in years.
Part IV: Finding Peace
Epilogue
Most couples don’t start out their relationship in therapy, but it was exactly how they started out theirs and quite intentionally. Every week they would meet with a counselor together. He was long overdue in coping with the loss of his sister, and she was long overdue in forgiving herself just as much as he was. He never once went without her, and she never went without him. They certainly had their own personal needs, but there wasn’t an ounce of what he struggled with that he didn’t want her to know about and be a part of.
Months and months of talking, laughing, remembering, forgiving, and loving one another, and he still felt like he learned something new about them constantly, and he loved the added depth that came with time. What he also learned was that there was no question that he belonged to her, and she belonged to him too. She always had. He always had. His love wasn’t something that could fade, and there was no threat of his anger and his pain destroying them anymore. He worried at first, and he knew she did too, but with time came peace.
He’d learned he was more than capable of being furious with her and not going or even wanting to go to his past to find ammunition to hurt her. She’d made the mistake one day, six months after she was officially a Savoy resident again living with him, of stopping her bike on the side of a winding bend in the road to look for a doe that had darted in front of her. She’d only just hopped off her bike and taken a few steps toward the woods when a truck flew around the bend, driving entirely too far on the shoulder of the road and smashing into her bike.
"Unforgiven" отзывы
Отзывы читателей о книге "Unforgiven". Читайте комментарии и мнения людей о произведении.
Понравилась книга? Поделитесь впечатлениями - оставьте Ваш отзыв и расскажите о книге "Unforgiven" друзьям в соцсетях.