Rekindled (3 page)

Read Rekindled Online

Authors: C.J. McKella

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Rekindled
8.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“It no longer matters what they think.”

Her voice has a hardened edge to it and I can see her chewing on the inside of her cheek, a nervous habit she picked up when she was younger and never could get rid of. Normally I find it adorable, but in this moment I’m so frustrated, I can barely see straight.

I shake my head. I feel like I’m staring at a painting I’ve looked at my entire life, but everything looks wrong. It’s like the colors are bleeding together, blurring the image, and making it impossible to decipher what I’m looking at. Callie’s parents come from old money, with deep roots in the oil industry, and deeper roots in their belief in a solid education at their Alma Mater. For them to suddenly be okay with their values going out the window makes absolutely no sense.

“Callie, I don’t know what’s going on, or why you’re hiding things from me, but you can tell me anything. I know things have been hard the past month, but that’s also why I know we can get through anything together. I’m always going to be here for you to lean—”

“Don’t you get it, Tate?” she interrupts. “I can’t keep relying on you for support. You need to be able to live your own life. You’re always putting me first, and it’s not fair to you. You need to find your own happiness and pursue your own dreams.”

“You’re my happiness. As long as I have you in my life, I don’t need anything else. I may not have Zach’s money. I can’t buy you expensive jewelry or whisk you off to Paris. I know my family doesn’t belong to fancy country clubs or wear designer clothes, but I can give you all of me. I can promise you a future where you’ll never go a single day without knowing how much you’re loved.”

“And that’s the problem.” She pauses and when she looks up at me, tears streak her cheeks and I can feel the anguish pouring out of her. “Things have been so messed up lately, and I just need a break from it all.” Her voice grows quiet as she speaks these next words. “And that’s why it kills me to say that I think after I leave here, I need you to give me space.”

“What do you mean by space?”

“I think it’s best if I don’t talk to you, at least not for a little while.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Callie? I tell you I’m in love with you and you respond by saying you don’t want to talk to me anymore?”

“I’m so sorry,” she says. “But this is what’s best, at least for right now, just until things settle down a bit.”

I don’t know why she won’t tell me what’s going on or what caused her to make this decision, but at this point, I no longer care. I laid my heart out on the line for her and she completely obliterated it within a matter of minutes. Devastation rolls through me with the realization that she’s choosing Zach not out of love, but out of status. Her words replay in my head.
Sometimes love just isn’t enough.
Understanding strikes through me like a match catching fire and I know now what she was trying to say. I’m just not good enough. I’ll never be good enough. A bitter laugh escapes my lips at the realization of how foolish I’ve been.

“Fine. You want space? You’ve got it. I won’t try to contact you after you leave here, and I don’t ever want to hear from you again, Callie. I don’t want to know when you settle into your place in California and what the city’s like. I don’t want to know when you get married or where you have your honeymoon. You can forget every memory of me and keep your tongue from speaking my name, because as soon as you leave here, you can be damn sure that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Tate…”

“I’m going to forget the way it feels to hear your voice on the phone, and I’m going to forget the way it feels to see your smile. I’m going to forget the way it feels for my heart to love you, and maybe one day I’ll forget the way it feels to have it completely broken. I hope you’re happy with Zach, Callie, and I’m sorry that I wasn’t good enough.”

“Tate, please—”

I can hear choked sobs coming from her lips, but I refuse to look at her, knowing if I do, I’ll shatter. Instead, I square my shoulders, take a deep breath, and walk back inside the restaurant, leaving my bleeding heart outside to die alongside the girl who murdered it.

 

 

Present Day

 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Stepping out of the car, I give myself a second to stretch my limbs, which have been cramping since the pit stop we made at the Idaho border. The crisp scent of pine swirls around me as I stand in front of the expansive two-story house I used to love coming to, now wondering why I thought this was a good idea, as dread quickly bubbles to the surface. It’s been seven years since I’ve been here, since the summer which divided my entire life into quadrants like slices of pie. Needing a way to deal with everything, I’d compartmentalized all the people and events in my life, shoving the painful memories into a tiny box where they could rot in the recesses of my brain. I had never intended to open it. And yet here I am, standing in front of a place that cuts through my protective shield, and opening up my memories like Pandora’s Box.

A wave of familiarity slides over me as we enter the house. It looks exactly as I remember it: wide, open spaces that let each room flow seamlessly into the next, all with glossy travertine floors and oversized windows that face out to Payette Lake. An ornate chandelier made from branches hangs in the foyer, right next to the grand staircase that wraps along the walls like a pair of open arms, waiting for you to step into them.

“Lee, that you?” A voice calls from upstairs as I hear hurried footsteps jotting down the hallway.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“And me!” Jonah yells. He breaks into a sprint and flings himself into my brother’s open arms.

“And who might
you
be?” Caleb says using his voice reserved for little kids.

“It’s me, Jonah!”

“No, you’re not Jonah. You’re way too big to be him. The Jonah I knew was only
this
tall.” He uses his hand to bring it to Jonah’s shoulder.

“It’s me, Uncle Caleb. I’m Jonah.”

“Impossible. You have to be at least, what? Seventeen? Eighteen? I mean, look at these muscles you’ve grown!” He lifts Jonah’s arm and helps him flex.

“No, silly, I’m six!” He breaks out into a giggle and my face splits into a smile.

“Well, then your mom must be doing a good job at making you eat your vegetables if you’re only six and you look like this.” Caleb looks over at me and winks, and I roll my eyes at him.

Moving back into a home I swore I’d never return to wasn’t in my plans, but then again, nothing in my life ever seems to go the way I expect. At least this time when life decided to screw me over, I had someone to turn to. It’s hard to believe that just twelve hours ago my entire world flipped on its axis.

“Honey, are you sure this is the best idea?” my best friend, Patty, asks through the phone. “There has to be a better way.”

Wedging the phone between my ear and my shoulder, I bend down and lift the last of the boxes into the back of my Explorer, careful not to squish any of Jonah’s things. The move is hard enough as it is, the last thing I want to do is add stress to my six-year-old son by breaking his favorite toys in the process.

“It’ll be fine.” I lie, as I lower the trunk door. “Besides, I think it’ll be good for Jonah to get out of the city for a while.”

“Okay…but, Idaho? I mean, what exactly are you supposed to do in the potato state? Do they even have any good malls where you’re going? And is there somewhere you’ll be able to get wheatgrass shots?”

I grin at Patty’s typical response. “McCall doesn’t have a mall, but there are still little shops and whatnot. I probably can’t buy Louboutins there, but let’s be real, I couldn’t even afford breakfast this morning, so shopping for thousand dollar shoes is definitely out of the question.”

“Has he even called to explain anything?”

“Of course not.”

Turning around, I stare at the single-story home we purchased a couple years ago. Painted a pale white hue with arched windows, red tiled roofing, and a small flowerbed in the front planted with tulips, it was the perfect place for us. It’s small, but I had loved this house because it was mine. I loved the way the tile floor felt cool against the pads of my feet during the warm summer months when I’d open up the windows and let the breeze seep inside. I loved the way Jonah’s voice carried through each of the rooms when he was a toddler singing along to his favorite songs. And I loved the comfort the house held when my brother Caleb visited, and we’d order greasy Chinese takeout and watch horror films on the couch in the living room.

Looking at it now, knowing the façade of a life it represents, I wonder how it’s possible to hate something that I once loved so much.

“I just don’t see how he could do that to you. To Jonah! I mean, I know you said things weren’t good between you guys, but this? This just doesn’t sound like the Zach that we know. This is just vindictive,” Patty says.

“There was a lot about him that you guys didn’t know.” I try to hide the bitterness to my voice. There’s a lot about both of us you don’t know.

“Earth to Lee,” Caleb says, waving his hand in front of my face. “You okay?”

Staring at my brother, I’m struck by how much he is the culmination of our parents. With corn-husk blond hair and watery blue eyes, a strong nose, high forehead and square jaw, he was on the receiving end of the good genes lottery. He used to joke that I must be adopted because I look nothing like either of our parents. My thick auburn hair comes from my grandma on my mom’s side, and while I have the same blue eyes as the rest of our family, I have a heart shaped face with practically non-existent cheekbones and a tiny nose that sits high and tilts upwards.

“Hey, Bud, why don’t you take Spider-Man upstairs and show him your new bedroom? I need to talk to Uncle Caleb. Your room is the one painted blue.”

“Okay, mom.” Jonah dashes up the stairs and disappears from view.

Caleb and I head into the kitchen and I slide onto a bar stool that sits in front of the large island fixture. Grabbing two beers from the fridge, Caleb pops the top off and hands one to me.

“Thanks,” I say. “And thanks for letting us stay here. I promise we won’t be in your hair too much.”

“C’mon Lee, you know I love you both. It’ll be great having Jonah around. Plus, this house is as much yours as it is mine. Just because Mom and Dad gave me this house doesn’t make it any less yours.”

I scoff. “Yeah, sure it is. This house stopped being mine in any way when Mom and Dad decided they wanted nothing to do with me or Jonah. Do they even know I’m staying here?”

Caleb leans forward, resting his weight on his forearms as he stares at his beer bottle. “Yeah, they know.”

When he doesn’t say anything else, I nod my head, knowing my parents haven’t changed one bit. Too stubborn and proud to push past their anger from seven years ago to reach out and have even the slightest contact with their grandson. Resentment begins to uncoil in my stomach with the reminder of their selfishness, and I take another sip of my beer to try to shove it back down.

My parents cut me out of their lives when I made the choice to keep my baby, and the loss of that relationship was what I imagined a phantom-limb would feel like. Your brain is well aware that a piece of you is gone, and yet, your body still acts like it’s not. Like a knee-jerk reaction, I picked up the phone to call my parents when Jonah first learned to walk, and when he said his first word, “bye”, wanting to share my excitement, only remembering their choice of pushing me out of their lives after the first ring. They’d taken away my college money, my trust fund, and their love, but if anything, that only made me love my son more, knowing I would do what my parents couldn’t: love my child unconditionally. As much as their actions have hurt me, I can’t afford to think about them right now when I have larger issues to deal with.

Other books

The Dark Horse by Craig Johnson
MacFarlane's Ridge by Patti Wigington
WildLoving by N.J. Walters
Dicing with Death by Beth Chambers
The Color of Hope by Kim Cash Tate
War and Remembrance by Herman Wouk
Anita Mills by Dangerous