After the Rain (9 page)

“Is she all right?” I ask frantically as I grab my keys and head out the door.

“Just come quick, okay.” Her voice is full of concern, and all I can think about is the quickest way to get to her.

“Is she hurt?” I ask as I run down the steps.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. Just hurry okay.”

“I’m on my way. Don’t let her leave,” I say as I jump into my truck.

Maybe I shouldn’t be driving, but it’s almost two miles back to campus, and I can’t afford to waste a minute. Emery’s phone call relieves me but also scares the crap out of me.

When I reach the dorm, I barely put my truck into park before jumping out and making a run for the door. I swear if Drew did anything to her, I’m going to kill him this time.

I don’t bother knocking when I reach her door. As soon as I’m inside, my eyes begin to scan the room. I find Kate sitting on the floor with her back to me.

Emery appears at my side. “I’m going to leave you guys alone. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

I nod and mouth, “Thank you.”

As she leaves, I quietly walk up behind Kate, anxious to see what she’s doing. Her hair and clothes are soaked, and her body shakes from being exposed to the cold January air.

Sitting down next to her on the floor, I notice the shoebox in front of her. There are napkins enclosed in small Ziploc bags scattered all over the floor, and in her hands is a letter.

My heart drops when my eyes finally find her face. Tears stream from her eyes, and her skin is blotchy from crying.

“It’s raining in January,” she says, smiling sadly.

I glance down at the letter again and recognize the handwriting. It hits me.

Exactly one year ago today, Asher died. I don’t know what’s going through her head right now, but I know I have to be here for her. There’s no way for me to make this better, but I can make sure it’s not any worse than it has to be.

I slip my finger under her chin to draw her attention to my eyes. She needs to know I mean every word that I’m about to say. “I should have remembered. I’m sorry.”

She closes her eyes tightly then opens them again. “I felt guilty for being happy this morning. He’s not here anymore, and I’m here with you.”

“Kate—”

“No, let me finish. I felt guilty until it started to rain, and then I remembered everything he ever said to me about living my life. He’d want me to be here with you right now,” she says while I brush a tear from her cheek.

I remember the note I received after he died, and my own tears start to brim in my eyes. We’re here now because of him. “It’s a miracle that he walked into your life when he did.”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t believe in miracles. If miracles existed, Asher would still be here right now.”

I pause for a minute, trying to figure out a way to comfort the beautifully broken girl in front of me. I hate seeing her like this. “Do you want to talk about him?”

“What?” she whispers, looking stunned.

“Maybe if you talk about him it will help. What’s one thing you’ll never forget about him?”

She stares up at the ceiling as the tears well up in her eyes again. “He liked to dip his French fries in his ice cream,” she cries, focusing her eyes back on me.

I reach out to her, and she falls into my arms, her head against my chest. Holding her tightly, I’m afraid to ever let her go.

After a few minutes, her sobs weaken and she continues, “He took me to the zoo once and convinced me to hold a snake. He had a way of getting me to face my fears before I even realized what I was doing.”

Again, I wish I could have been that guy for her, but the most important thing is she got her life back. If he was able to do that, I have to respect him. In a way, he did as much for me as he did for her.

Stroking my fingers through her hair, I say, “We both owe him a lot.”

“When he was getting really sick and it was too cold to go outside, I had my mom go out and buy that turtle light that shines stars on the ceiling. He wanted to see them so badly so I did my best to bring them to him.”

“What you did for him was one of the reasons I love you,” I say quietly, lifting her chin to look into her eyes once again. “You’re caring and thoughtful … anyone who knows you is better for it.”

Dropping my hand, I continue to stare into her eyes. I want to wipe all the pain away and give her a picture perfect life. Life would be so much easier, but we probably wouldn’t appreciate each other as much as we do right now.

“He sent me a letter shortly before he died.” I pause, gauging her reaction. Her eyes are brighter as she stares into mine waiting for me to continue. “He told me how special he thought you were and asked me to take care of you.”

All I can do now is wait for her to respond. I’ve often wondered if I should have told her this sooner, but this just seems like the right time. Besides, I would have taken care of her even without the letter. For me, it was just a symbol of how much he cared for her, even when he was dying.

“Do you think he knew there’d be an
us
?” she asks, her voice cracking.

I comb my fingers through her hair, trying to find the perfect thing to say. “I think he wanted you to be happy no matter what it took or who you were with, but I think he knew how much I loved you.”

“I think you’re probably right,” she whispers, resting her head back against my chest.

We both remain silent for several minutes. Knowing Kate, she’s probably thinking about what I just told her; I hope it gives her piece of mind instead of more guilt or doubt. I want to tell her that if anything ever happened to me, I’d want her to move on, but I don’t want to even put that scenario in her head. I don’t want to think about her ever having to be without me.

“Beau, can we do something?” she asks tearing me away from my internal thoughts.

“We can do whatever you want.”

“Can we go to that little diner down the street?”

“You hungry?” I ask.

She stands, grabbing my hand to help me up. “No, but I need French fries and ice cream.”

I wrap my arms around her and pull her into my body, kissing her damp hair. “You should put some dry clothes on first. You’re going to get sick.”

“Okay,” she whispers, squeezing her arms around my waist. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to use the restroom and clean up.”

“I’ll wait here,” I say, kissing the top of her head one more time before she has an opportunity to walk away.

After she disappears out of the room to use the bathroom, I bend down to pick her things up off the floor. The letter is the first thing to go back in. I’m tempted to read it, but I don’t. What’s in that letter is none of my business. Next, I start picking up the napkins one by one. I notice on the corner of some of the baggies there is a little round sticker with a date on it. The first one I pick up says something about Stouffer’s lasagna, and the date is from eight months ago. Another one that catches my eye talks about loving again. It has the date Kate moved to the Iowa campus on the bottom and the thought of that day makes me smile.

The last one I put away says:

Below it is a date from almost fifteen years ago, which would have been right around the time I met Kate. Then right below that is the date Kate came to the University of Iowa.

As I’m putting the last of the notes in the box, the door swings open. “What are you doing with those?” Kate asks, hurrying across the room.

“I was just putting them away for you,” I answer, watching the panic wash over her face.

She glances at the one I hold in my hand, and her eyes shoot to mine. “You were the first person I gave my heart to and the last.”

“And I thank God every day for that.” Grabbing her hand in mine, I kiss each of her fingers before placing the napkin in her hand. “You’ve had mine for a long time, and I’ve never asked to have it back. It’s yours to keep.”

“That’s one of the reasons I love you, Beau Bennett,” she says as a single tear rolls down her cheek. “You loved me when I pushed you away. You loved me when I was lost. You loved me when you didn’t even know if you were going to get a chance with me. It takes true love to do that.”

There’s something I’ve been dying to ask her since the day she came back to me. I’m not sure why I even want to know, but I do, even if the answer kills me. “If Asher was still here, would I have ever had a chance with you?”

She watches me with her mouth hanging wide open. I wish she could feel how fast my heart is beating right now. In a way, I’m asking her if she’s settling for me, and it’s so fucking unfair.

“Wait, don’t answer that. We’re supposed to be moving forward.”

She catches me off guard by wrapping her arms around my neck and resting her forehead on mine. “Do you ever give much thought to coincidences?” she asks in a hushed tone.

“No,” I whisper.

“Like, if my mom hadn’t decided to move to Carrington, I would never have met you. If she hadn’t picked the house next to yours, we wouldn’t have been so close. Life is mapped out by a series of choices and coincidences … miracles and fate are figments of a dreamer’s imagination.”

I stare at her, trying to draw the lines between her words. I hear what she’s saying, but I’m not sure where she’s going with it.

She continues, “If Drew hadn’t hurt me, I think we’d be together just like we are now, but I appreciate you so much more because of the journey we took to get here. If Asher hadn’t been diagnosed with cancer, he wouldn’t have come to Carrington, and I would never have met him. It was our situations that brought us together so to answer your question, I don’t think it was ever possible for Asher to be my forever. That’s not the map that was laid out for either of us … I honestly believe he was meant to lead me back to you.” She pauses, kissing me softly. “I was always meant to be with you.”

I let her words sink in and then wrap my arms around her, lifting her to sit on my lap. Burying my head in her neck, I smell her sweet perfume. “I couldn’t love you any more than I do right now.”

“Yes, you can. I’ll prove it to you.”

“How are you going to do that?” I ask, kissing her forehead.

She bites that pink lower lip of hers, which always driving me freaking crazy. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

We sit quietly for several minutes, listening to the rain hit the window. Her head rests against my chest as I rub my hands up and down her back. When she sits up, a slight smile highlights her face.

Holding her face in my hands, I run my thumbs along her jaw line. “Are you okay?”

She nods. “The rain always makes me smile.”

I smile back at her. “Are you ready to get French fries and ice cream?”

“Yeah,” she answers sweetly, “I am.”

Four Months Later
—
May 2013

A
YEAR
AGO
,
IF
YOU
HAD
TOLD
ME
I’d finish my first year of college, I would have laughed. Actually, I probably would have cried because that was the point I was at in my life.

Today, though, I’m doing just that. Beau’s packing the last of his things into his truck and then coming here to pick up some of mine. One of the perks of having an apartment is getting to leave a bunch of the big stuff behind.