Captured Love (27 page)

“Thanks.”

“Besides, you helped me out. I helped you out. That’s what we do for the people we love, right? Help out even when they don’t ask for it.”

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Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open. “Ryan …”

“Because that’s why I did it, Jess. I talked to your father because I love you.” Shaking her head, she set the cup on her nightstand. “You can deny it all you want, but I know you feel the same. I saw it in your eyes. I felt it when we made love last weekend.” She stood, still shaking her head. “Why did you leave, Jess? Why weren’t you there in the morning when I woke up?”

“Because that was our perfect closure, Ryan. It was the perfect ending. Now we both can move on without being haunted by the past.”

I stood. “The perfect ending? We have one night of amazing sex, and love—because I know there was love involved—and you want it to end?”

“It has to,” she whispered.

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I stilled. “Is it because of that guy? The one that was here last Saturday? Is he your boyfriend?”

“No, no. Gavin is … he was just a guy I used to hook up with.” I flinched, not happy to hear about her and other guys. “He’s nice, but too clingy. What we had was never serious, but he wanted it to be. He came down here to, as he said, prove to me that he cared and that I should give him a chance.”

“And? Are you giving him another chance?”

“No. I sent him away after you left.” I walked around the bed and stood in front of her. “Then why, Jess? Why does our story have to end?”

“The most obvious reason? I live too far away. I can’t even consider a long-distance relationship.”

“So, you’re still leaving.”

“Yes. My classes started next week. I’m leaving this weekend.”

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Ouch, that hurt more than I wanted to admit. “I don’t want to be that guy and ask you to stay—”

“Then don’t.”

“—but I have to. I love you too much to let you leave this time.”

“Ryan, please, don’t.”

“I swore to myself that if we could go back in time, I would never have let you go. I would have taken the next train or plane to Cleveland, showed up at your door, and explained everything to you, so you would forgive me and come home with me.” I took a step toward her. “I can’t let you leave, Jess.” She retreated. “It’s not your choice.”

“But you love me. I know you do.”

“Love isn’t enough. I … I don’t know if I can trust you again, Ryan. You broke my heart. I can’t risk having you doing it again.”

“But you know now that I never cheated on you.”

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“You let me believe you had cheated on me. For four years, I lived with that pain. I can’t erase it with a snap of my fingers. It’s not that simple.”

“Then let me prove it to you. Let me show you that you can trust me.”

“It’s too late, Ryan. My life isn’t here anymore. My home isn’t here. I’m leaving.” I saw it in her eyes. The resolution along with the wall she had raised around her heart. A wall against me.

Defeated, I exhaled. “Is there anything I can say or do to change your mind?” She shook her head. “No, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t try.” I was drowning in pain, the same pain I felt the first time she left. Somehow, I had forgotten how to swim.

I dragged my feet to the door and paused there. “I’m sorry, Jess.”

“Me too,” she whispered.

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Leaving my heart with her, I walked out of her bedroom.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jessica

Kristin bumped her shoulder on mine.

Distracted, I stumbled two steps to the side.

“What?” I asked.

She raised an eyebrow. “Did you hear anything that I said?”

“Hmm.” I looked down at the ground, avoiding her judging gaze.

“Since you came back, you’ve been like that.” She gestured to me.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re only half here. Or even less.” Her eyes softened. “When will you talk about what happened down there?” I shrugged. I didn’t want to think about what I left behind in Lexington, much less talk about it.

Classes had started three weeks ago, and I had immersed myself in my studies. I 470/504

loved architecture. There was nothing else I would rather do, and it was so much easier to drown myself in it than to face whatever lurked in the back of my mind.

An internship would also be a good distraction. That was why I spent a lot of my time on my resume and looking at local newspapers and job-related websites.

“Nothing happened,” I lied. I planned on telling her about everything; I just couldn’t yet. It was too fresh, too painful.

The day I left, my family and friends took me to the airport. Mama, Jason, Luke, Lindsey, Aunt Cadence, Uncle T., Sophie, Rachel, and Ethan were all there. I suspected Ryan wouldn’t show up, but I guess a small part of me hoped he would. I kept looking for him, until the moment I boarded the plane. I knew then that it was over. Whatever it had been, it was finished.

In Cleveland, my grandma was waiting for me at the airport. As soon as I saw her, I 471/504

broke down and cried like a baby. She embraced me and said everything would be okay. I wanted to believe her, but I knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

My father had forgiven me, but he had died and I would never be his little girl again.

Mama called almost every day and now I talked to her, but I could hear the sadness in her voice and it tugged at my heart. I couldn’t shake the guilt of leaving her alone at such a time. Sophie, Rachel, and I had re-connected. We had been exchanging emails and text messages, but it wasn’t the same.

The distance was already taking its toll on our friendship.

And there was Ryan. We had found closure, the perfect one. Then why didn’t it seem like my feelings would go away anytime soon. Truth be told, they had never gone away, not in four years, and I knew I wouldn’t be free of it now. Not after what we had the past few weeks I was down there.

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Meanwhile, Gavin still called me sometimes, though I didn’t answer. When he would bump into me on campus, on purpose, he tried to ask me out.

With Kristin, things were awkward. I loved her, but since I wasn’t ready to talk, she probably felt like I was pushing her away. I had to find a way to open up soon, before she gave up on me.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Kristin said. We walked into the science building where she had chemistry class and I had physics.

“You’ve been distant and quiet, practically sulking. You do nothing but study or stay holed up in your bedroom. You know, even your grandma called me yesterday to talk about you.”

“What?”

“She’s worried about you.”

“I’m okay,” I whispered. Even I didn’t believe my own words.

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“To some extent, I know you are. But mostly you aren’t.” We stopped in front of my classroom. She touched my arm. “When you’re ready to talk, I’m here, okay?” I nodded and entered the classroom before I could break down in the hallway. I took my usual seat and opened my book, reading the current chapter we were working on furiously, trying to imprint it on my mind, so it would take over the emotions that wanted to spill from my chest.

***

something familiar and not have to focus on it.

I spread a healthy amount of honey on a cracker and popped it in my mouth. Then I tugged my legs under me and lay my sketchpad on my knees. Like I usually did, I simply drew, without paying attention to it.

Sometime later, my phone dinged a few times. I reached for it and gasped. I had been in this same position, drawing my heart out and eating all the crackers and half a bottle of honey for over two hours.

What was wrong with me?

Shaking that off, I read the text message.

Rachel:
When are you coming down to
visit us?

Sophie:
Yes! We miss you!

Rachel:
It’s my birthday next week. You
could come down then.

She inserted a lot of winking emojis at the end of the message.

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Me:
I don’t know.

It was true. I hadn’t given it much thought. I knew Mama expected me for Thanksgiving, then Christmas, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to go back after spending three months there. I was still trying to get back into my routine here.

Then there was grandma. I wouldn’t leave her along during those important holidays.

My phone dinged some more, but I put it down. My mood was too sour to read through their messages. Instead, I went to the kitchen, grabbed more crackers, and went back to the living room, where
Gilmore
Girls
still played.

The front door opened. I looked over my shoulder and saw grandma coming back from her card game. Every Friday evening, she got together with a group of seniors and played cards. She loved it, and I loved it that she got to go out and be with friends.

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As she stepped into the living room, she smiled at me but just for one second.

“Jessica Grace Hayes!” she said, her tone military-like. It reminded me of Papa and I winced. She grabbed the TV remote and turned it off.

I sat up. “Hey!”

She put her hands on her waist. “Don’t tell me you’ve been here in this same position for the last two hours?”

“Well …”

“Why aren’t you out with Kristin?

That’s what you used to do every Friday and Saturday.”

I shrugged. “I’m not in the mood.” She sat down beside me. “Hon, you’ve been home for six weeks. It’s almost October.

I thought you would be over this sour mood by now.”

Me too. But the worst part was, I didn’t understand where this sour mood was coming from. I was home, I was still studying 477/504

architecture, I had broken up with Gavin, I had said goodbye to Papa, I had reconciled with Sophie and Rachel, I had Kristin here, and I had found closure with Ryan. Why then didn’t I feel good? Satisfied? Happy?

“I don’t know what the matter is,” I confessed.

Sighing, she reached over and took my hands in hers. “I think I know.” I watched her expectantly. A sad smile appeared on her sweet face. “You came back, but you’re not home.”

“W-what?”

“Your home is in Lexington.”

“But—”

She raised her hand. “Think about it, hon. Since you came back, you’re all mopey, just going with the flow. It’s like you’re a machine, just going to classes and coming back; working on your projects and sketching and nothing else.” She gestured to my sketchpad.

I glanced down at it and did a double take.

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My breath caught. Grandma went on. “You feel like something is missing, but you don’t know what. You think you have everything, and in some way, you do. You have a house, you have friends, you’re in college, and there’s me too. But it’s not the same anymore.”

The façade of a house filled the paper of my sketchpad, a house I knew too well, having lived sixteen years there. But what really made my breath catch was the people in front of it. Without realizing, I had drawn people. People! I hadn’t drawn people in four years!

Mama, Jason, and I were in front of my childhood home. My brother’s bike was in the driveway with Luna lying beside it.

I returned my gaze to my grandma. “I …

I don’t know,” I muttered. A turmoil of emotions swirled in my chest and tears brimmed in my eyes. “Even if I felt like going back, I couldn’t leave you.”

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She smiled. “I love having you here with me, hon, but I always knew it wouldn’t be forever. One day, you will leave. It may be when you graduate and go for your master’s degree in two years, or it may be when you fall in love and want to move in with your beau—whenever that happens.” I chuckled at her choice of words. Beau. It had been a long time since I had heard her use southern words. “Don’t worry about me, hon. I’ll be fine. I want you to worry about you, your future. You have to do what’s best for you, whatever that may be.”

She kissed my cheek and stood. She returned the TV remote to me and left the room.

I threw the remote aside and stared at the drawing on my lap. My family and I at our house in Lexington. If I were supersti-tious, I would think I had drawn this for a reason.

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Now I only needed to swallow my pride and admit the reason to myself.

***

I finished my six practice laps and brought the bike back to the garage, where John, Ethan, and Luke waited for me. I stopped my bike outside the garage door.

“Ninety-seven seconds,” John said, looking from his stopwatch to me. “We need to shave at least twenty seconds.” Nodding, I took off my helmet and dragged a hand through my damp hair. “I know, I know.”

I had gone back to practice two weeks ago. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed being at the tracks, how much it was part of me, until I was back at it, speeding my heart out and feeling the wind pressing on my body, with the roar of the engines filling my 481/504

ears. However, I was still rusty and getting used to my bike. It had taken me a little over two months to fix it to the point it was good for racing again. Even so, I didn’t think it would last much longer. Besides all the fix-ing, the bike was five years old—an eternity in this sport.

I climbed off my bike. Luke walked by me, patted my shoulder, put on his helmet, and hopped on his bike. It was his turn at the track.

I watched as he peeled away from the garage and went to the starting line. I envied him a little. This was his full-time job. He was here day after day, doing what he loved, and he was good at it. Me? I was here only on weekends since I still had a month before my parole and community service ended.

Alan and his crew still helped at the Habitat for Humanity site, mostly on the weekends, and that was a big help. We had recovered the damaged the storm had caused 482/504