Never Forever (23 page)

“That is correct.” He now stands inches away from me, making sure I clearly understand his demands, “I don’t want to have sex with you. I want to make love to you.”

“But I do love you and you love me, too. So what is the problem?”

“You are choosing to leave. And as long as that choice resides within you it is not the kind of love I want from you.”

Paroxysms of fury expel out of me, “Then leave. If you are so stubborn that you refuse to see where I am coming from, then I don’t want you.” My anger is holding my tears at bay as I berate him.

“I am not the one being stubborn here, you are. Besides I don’t want to leave you and Noah alone while you are still under the influence…”

“I am fine! Besides Noah and I are no longer your concern. Leave!” I aggressively push him towards my door.

Opening the door he turns to face me, “Good-bye, Breanna. I hope you find happiness in the life you have chosen.”

I watch him walk out the door, causing my heart to drop to the pit of my stomach with regret. An empty feeling envelops me as the word stubbornness reverberates, rolling around within my mind. “
Who is the one really being stubborn here
?” echoes in the far corners of my mind.

An Act of True Love

It is the last day of my class, my final exam and the day before I leave. These past few days have been the most emotionally draining on me. My capricious emotions have teetered on the edge of insanity at times. My heart screams at me to stay while my mind points out the logical reasons behind my escape. My mind took a turn for the worse when mine and Noah’s airline tickets showed up at my nearly empty flat.

The day after Charlotte Hughes’ surprise visit she sent for the removal of Callum’s baby crib and dresser, leaving me only the beautiful club chair to deal with. Luckily my flat came completely furnished, giving me very little to have to ship back to America. Sitting in the club chair waiting for Miss McNally to show up, I hold Noah tightly within my enveloping arms. His soft, ivory features melt effortlessly into my forearm as his eyes gaze up at me with an expression far beyond his understanding. Gnawing pain pricks at my heart, as I look down into Noah’s innocent face. I have tried to protect him from the life I was exposed to at such a young age, but I can’t stop it. He is so young yet he has lost his father, his next closest thing to a father, he is homeless, and has a mother who has given up on life. No matter how hard I have tried to give him a better life, his destination is paved by my stubbornness and cynicism. Bending down slightly I kiss the top of his forehead, uttering softly, “I am sorry.”

A deathly lull in my flat melts down on me as I look out at the stark walls surrounding me. The flat has been robbed of life and vivaciousness with every little item I have placed in a box. I look out at the two suitcases and one box that contain my entire existence. I can sum up my life in these few things in front of me. When I first got here these walls held an optimistic future, with hope of a new start waiting to be filled. Now these walls hold disappointment, loneliness and regret. Though who am I disappointed with? Who has been the one placing stubbornness at the helm of choices?

My eyes grow heavy as I watch Noah now sleeping in my arms. The heat radiating off of him like an electric blanket warming me to the core, causes my languid body to seep into a deep, soporific state of relaxation. A heavy weight pushes down on me when suddenly a vibrating knock rolls through the room. Placing Noah in his port-a-crib, I walk over to let Miss McNally in.

Opening the door I am taken back, “Olivia, what are you doing here?”

“Though I want to bloody flog you for leaving, what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t say good-bye?” Her excessive chipper attitude is masking some kind of scheme crawling up her sleeve. Her eyes narrow in with duplicity as she takes in my suspicious gaze. “Besides, you left this,” she hands over the thin wardrobe box containing the stunning black tee-dress she purchased for me while at her parent’s house.

My hand tenderly strokes the top of the box, recalling the night I wore it and how Callum’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. It was Olivia’s plan that night to make me completely irresistible to her brother, but it made me irresistible to not only Callum, but Gavin as well, opening the door to a terrible situation. Still holding the box firmly in my hands I ask, “Are you giving me this dress?”

A swirling mixture of offence and amazement pour through her eyes, “Breanna, I gave it to you that night. This is your dress.”

“Thank you Olivia, but where will I ever wear it?” Realizing that I am just going back to a life of poverty, I hand over the box containing the dress. “You should have it. You would look absolutely stunning in it.”

She pushes the box back into my hands, “I am not about to take this back. We did not go back to my parent’s house so I could bloody come back here and give it to you, only so you could tell me to keep it. You are bloody taking the damn box,” her voice holds an unusual sternness to it, as her eyes plead for me to take the box.

“Alright, I will keep the dress.” Her face instantly beams with satisfaction. “Do you want to come in?” I ask tenderly, opening the door a little wider.

“No, I think seeing your flat empty and your bags packed will make it all too real,” her face pushes back her emotions as she swallows firmly. “Besides, I have a final test in thirty minutes, and then I am going home to meet my br…to meet up with some friends.” She leans in giving me a firm hug, pulling me strongly against her body, holding me here for what feels like eternity. A soft sniffle echoes from her as she fights back her emotions. Pushing me gently away from her she adds, “You might want to take the dress out of the box before you leave. The airport won’t let you carry it on the plane like that.”

Confused by her statement I stammer, “O-kay?”

“Good-bye, Breanna.” She slowly walks away, stops, and then turns back towards me. “Remember, choices are made by those who have the strength to fight for their outcome. Fight for the outcome you want, Breanna,” She gives me a disconsolate smile. As she walks away I can hear a soft cry echo down the narrow hallway, causing my heart to break.

Rivulets of tears stream down my face as I press the box firmly against my chest. Standing here I hold onto the gift as if it has arms embracing me with peaceful memories. A great void is left in my heart where it once tickled the edges of a real family. I not only lost Callum, but I lost the closest thing to a sister I have ever experienced. Releasing my embrace with the box I stare down at the physical reminder of what I had. Remembering Olivia’s instructions, I pry the lid off of the box. There on top of the black tee-dress is a single, yet slightly wilted red rose. My heart nearly stops when I notice below the rose is a newly developed photograph. Tenderly I pull the picture free from the slightly wilted rose, as tears begin to pour freely down my face. There in the picture is Andrew’s headstone, with the same bouquet of red roses placed respectfully in front of it. Collapsing to the floor, I hold the picture affectionately within my trembling hands. My mind encapsulates this amazing act of love, causing my stubbornness to shatter, revealing the real reason why I am leaving. The fear of betraying Andrew has always rippled on the edges of my love for Callum. I love Callum, there is no doubt in that, but I am afraid to be in love with him. I have only had one other love in my life and he was taken from me. I could not handle it if Callum, too, is taken from me. So subconsciously I decided to be the one to leave.

I know that Callum’s mom doesn’t support our relationship, but if I truly love Callum like he loves me, then I should be willing to fight for it. Olivia is right, choices are made by those who are willing to fight for their outcome, and I have made my choice. Pulling the airline tickets out of my purse, I look down at the one-way flight information. Holding the tickets firmly in my hand I begin to rip them up, making my decision final.

Walking into my class I am mentally prepared to confront Callum. A thick layer of anxiety mingled with excitement fills the room, as all the class-mates buzz about the room trying to get any last bit of information before the exam. I sit at my table eagerly watching the quiet door, waiting for Callum to enter, but stillness remains. Everyone but Callum is in the classroom. My stomach drops to the pit of my abdomen as I realize that Callum is not going to show up. The classmates begin to move at a slow pace, as my mind spins with regret. Fear pricks my soul as I wonder where Callum can be.

“Everyone take their seats please,” Mr. Bramble begins handing out the tests as he continues, “When you are done, you may leave. It has been a fascinating term – to say the least. I have experienced more…interesting situations this term than any other. You can take that statement as you may. Good luck everyone.”

He walks over to me, placing the exam on my table. “Mr. Bramble, is Callum going to be taking the test today?” I whisper softly.

“I should hope not. He asked if he could take it earlier this week because he was leaving.”

My heart nearly stops as panic takes over my body, “Did he say where he is going or when he will be back?”

“No,” he taps at my awaiting test, “Good luck, Miss Hayes.”

“Thank you.”

Facing my test, I have no desire to take it. I can barely see the words through the tears filling my eyes. The dam hasn’t broken yet, keeping the salty stings at bay. My mind begins replaying everything Olivia told me this morning, trying to find a clue as to where Callum may be. Pounding my head slightly, I instantly recall a flub she said as she was forcing me to take the dress. She had mentioned that “we” went to get the dress, along with saying that she was going home to meet up with someone. But she was very vague about who it was. Facing my test I begin quickly answering the questions, not caring if I get them right. The faster I answer them the sooner I can get the hell out of here.

Finishing my last question, I rush it up to my professor, slamming it on his desk as I run out of the room. My mind becomes a jumbled mess as I try to figure out how Noah and I are going to get out to West Wycombe without having to have to take an expensive cab ride. Everything around me spins in fast motion, from the anxiety flooding my mind with ‘what if…’ scenarios. I can’t give into that kind of thought process right now. I have to find Callum and I need to tell him that I choose him.

Suddenly my mind catches sight of a petite, spirited sprite rushing across the street. Joy rips through my heart as I yell at the top of my lungs, “OLIVIA!”

Instantly she turns towards me. A huge, radiant smile spreads across her congenial face, as a sigh of relief drops down upon her. As I rush over to her she yells loudly, “It’s about bloody time you decide to fight!”

Running up to her I slam myself into her, causing her to nearly fall over as I give her a voracious hug. A warm sensation pulses through my heart as the tears I have been able to keep down now freely flow, knowing that as long as Olivia is still here I will be able to find Callum. She wraps her arms tightly around me while she whispers threatening actions mingled with loving responses towards me in a thick British brogue and quirky slangs. I can only understand a few things, about me being stubborn and wanting to hit me at the same time as kiss me. Olivia possesses the same fiery, yet loving, temper as Callum, a capricious tongue when they are frustrated, wishing to hurt and love you at the same time. They must get it from their mother, considering they have different fathers. I just hope that someday their mother can love me at the same time as hating me.

“Olivia, are you done berating me in some incoherent language?”

“It is not incoherent, it is English. The language you bloody Americans got from us,” she states with a thick, taunting accent, “And yes, I am done.”

“Good, because I need to find Callum, and I know you know where he is.” A large villainous smile spreads across her face, showing her perfectly white teeth.

We pull into the gravel parking lot, causing the tires of her car to spittle out rocks from under them. The bright colors of the Carter’s Steam Fair are such a sharp contrast to the thick green foliage surrounding it. The divergence of the fair against the ancient landscaping and buildings give a modern feel to the surrounding area. The fair is beginning to wind down. Some of the rides have been broken down, getting them ready for the travel to a new city. There are herds of workers surrounding the dismantled rides as they begin covering them with colorful tenting, loading them into large trucks.

“Olivia, why are we here? They are closing down the rides,” I utter inquisitively while I look out her passenger window at the dismantling of the rides taking place.

“Like I told you, Callum has a way of getting whatever he wants,” she states, gesturing with her head towards the Chair-O-Plane.

The ride is in full swing, with one person hanging in a limp reclined position, freely flying. Turning to Olivia I state, “He needed to escape and feel free.”

“Yes. He couldn’t be around and watch you leave. I was to give you the box, then come here, letting him know when you left.” A silence looms between us as we watch Callum soar. “Breanna, I love you like a sister, but if you ever break my brother’s heart again – I will hurt you,” though her voice holds a mocking tone to it, sincerity encapsulates every word.

I give her a reassuring smile, and then spring out of the passenger’s door. Turning back towards her to ask a favor, she suddenly replies before I am able to fully ask it, “Don’t worry, I will watch Noah.” Turning around, she gazes into his vibrant face, watching him kick joyfully, “Besides, he loves me anyway.”

I rush through the swarms of on-looking workers as their eyes gaze towards me questioningly. Deep imprints in the plush grass are left by the vacating rides, leaving only the memories of their existence. The Chair-O-Plane is the only ride left in complete functioning order. Weaving my way to the far corner of the grounds where the ride is still positioned, I notice it is beginning to slow down. Hastily I push my way past the ticket box when suddenly a loud voice shouts towards me, “Stop, you can’t bloody go ‘n there. W’er closed.”