Running in Place (Mending Hearts) (32 page)

“Okay, Tatum. Let’s take these one by one.” I begin to count on my fingers so that I don’t forget anything.

“Your job situation. Just so you know, I’ve already spoken to Trace and informed him that you would not be in this week, at either job. So, you’re not fired. You’re taking a
vacation
.”

After throwing her a wink, her eyes widen and the smallest hint of a smile crosses her lips. “Thank you so much, Harlow. You didn’t have to do that.”

“You’re welcome.” I squeeze her hand gently. “Now, school.
Easy
. Go back and finish what you started. You’re a brilliant girl, Tatum, don’t sell yourself short.”

She exhales deeply. “I can’t afford it, Harlow. Not with the money I make now. I can’t touch my inheritance until after I graduate, that’s my mother’s stipulation. And I lost my scholarship money when I withdrew like an
idiot
.”

Letting out a laugh, I shake my head. “No, that’s
Trace’s
stipulation. He’s the guardian of your mother’s money. He withheld your half because he didn’t feel you were in the right mentality to receive such a large sum, which I sadly have to say, I agree with. However, I think if you talk to him, tell him about school and maybe approach him with a plan, then he would be happy to give you what’s already yours. Speaking of Trace,” I segue, my face now serious, “He loves you, Tatum. He knows he made a mistake when he left you there with
her
, alone, and he pays dearly for that every day with his guilt. You have to remember, he was only eighteen when your father passed. He handled his death the only way he knew how at that time. I’m not making excuses for him, sweetie, but no one’s perfect.”

Her chin wavers as she tightens her hand around mine while I continue speaking. “You’re
not
alone. You have a brother that loves you more than anything. You just have to mend that relationship. Let him in and let go of the past. Start fresh.”

Nudging her shoulder, I add, “Plus, you’ve always got me.”

Wiping her face, she nods in response as I continue.

“Now, these memories that you speak of. Trace did share some of what you went through and let me tell you, you are an amazingly strong woman. You made it through hell and back. You’re a
survivor
, Tatum. Never forget that. But, you survived some horrific things that happened to you when you were very little. I really think you need to talk to someone about that part of your life, to help you work your way through the anger and hurt. If you really want to move forward, you need to release it and lay it to rest because right now it only binds you to this place in your life that you so desperately want to move past.”

“Like a shrink?” she asks, her face thoughtful. I pray a silent prayer of thanks, before I answer.

“Yes. I mean, I’m excellent at a lot of things, but I think that conversation is better left to a professional. Yes?” Tatum smiles for the first time since entering my house, my hearts swells with hope as I grin back at her.

“Housing — you can stay with me until we figure out what to do. That’s a given. And Sadie, call her. You two have been friends since you were kids. Whatever happened, you’ll work it out. I happen to know this from experience.”

Pausing, I check off her worries on my fingers, coming to the very last one. “Which leaves us with…” I trail off.

“Noah,” she answers, sadness marking her expression.

“Noah.” Releasing her hand, I cup her cheek and line my eyes with hers. “That boy loves you, Tatum. I can see it in his eyes. But, as much as it pains me to say this, the timing wasn’t right for you two. Not now. He obviously has his own set of issues that he needs to deal with, and you need time to focus on yourself — on
your
healing and
your
growth. Whether or not it will ever be your time, I honestly don’t know. But, you two, together right now, it wouldn’t have ended well. Neither of you are at a place in your life to take your relationship where I think you both wanted it to go. Everything happens for a reason, Tatum. Have faith that it will all work out the way it should.”

She nods and I pat her cheek before removing my hand as she returns her gaze to the ceiling. “I know, Harlow. Blake said something similar and I know you’re both right. But still, it doesn’t make it any easier, you know?”

Turning onto my back, I stare upward as well. “I know, sweet girl.”

After about five minutes of us both staring at the ceiling evaluating our lives, she inhales deeply and then sits up, dangling her feet over the side of the bed and pulling her hair out of her ponytail as she stands.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I’m going to start working on this plan of ours. First, though, I’m going to shower and brush my teeth.”

Thank God.

“Thank God,” I remark through laughter.

Smacking my leg, she giggles as she leaves the room, change of clothes in hand.

Rising off the bed myself, I watch her leave and smile to myself as I sing my own praises — which I often do.

Not bad, Harlow.

Not bad
at all.

After taking nearly forty-five minutes to convince Harlow I’d be okay, I left her house to come home briefly. Not to conquer demons or face my past, just to grab some more clothes. I never really kept that many at Noah’s, I usually just wore his around the house. But, since I’m actually moving
in
with Harlow for a while, I will need more to wear.

I did, however, gain a
new
item of clothing to wear seeing as though Noah’s
Ramones
shirt mysteriously ended up in my overnight bag. I’m not sure if I grabbed it on accident, or if he somehow magically
poofed
it in there, but either it made its way to Harlow’s with me. I bawled when I first saw it, but it sure felt good when I slipped it over my head. Like, I have part of him always. So, I lived in it for three days straight until I was ready to peel it off my body.

But now, I’m just wearing my trusty old white tank top and jeans as I pull into Mother’s driveway, where I see Trace’s truck parked right in front of the house. Driving up beside him, I put my car in park and take in a deep breath. So much has happened in the last couple of days, I don’t know if I’m emotionally capable of having this conversation, but I’m going to try. I owe it to myself to at least hear him out. Plus, I have a feeling Harlow sent him over to make sure I’m okay.

After getting a hold of the nerves that are fluttering through my chest and stomach, I step out onto the concrete and smooth my shirt before running my fingers through my damp hair and head to the porch. Reaching for the handle, I twist it and slowly crack the door open, peeking in before I enter the house. With no sight of him, I step inside, shutting the door behind me before heading to the kitchen. As soon as I turn the corner, I see him, sitting at the table with every single one of my journals stacked in piles on top of it. Not counting the one in my overnight bag at Harlow’s.

His blue eyes lock onto mine as I skid to a halt, the shock of seeing the journals out in the open ceasing my movements. His black hair is a shaggy mess as it’s grown over the last month since I’ve seen him, sticking out it every direction from the top of his head clear to the nape of his neck. Leaning back in the chair, he peers at me from underneath his dark lashes, most likely gauging my reaction to his being here and the fact that my whole life is laid out right in front of him.

“Um, hi.” I say, setting my keys on the counter and turning back to him, my hands finding their way to my back pockets as I stand, nervously rocking onto the heels of my Chucks. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you. I finally received clearance from Harlow to come within five-hundred feet of you,” he laughs under his breath. “She seemed to think you might like to have some company this morning.”

I lean back against the counter behind me, removing my hands from my pockets and crossing my arms over my chest. “I told her I would be fine. You don’t have to stay with me, Trace. I know you’re busy.”

He shakes his head and stands, walking toward me. “No, we need to talk.”

I can feel my throat constricting already as my eyes begin to burn, moisture forming in the corners. Nodding my response, I force myself to swallow as he comes to a standstill in front of me, my eyes still latched onto his.

Running his hand through his hair, Trace glances back at the kitchen table before returning my stare. “I hope you don’t mind, but I
did
read them. Every word you wrote, I read. Tatum,” his voice begins to shake as his eyes glisten, “I’m so sorry. I’m
so
sorry.”

Reaching forward, he grabs my shoulders and pulls me into his chest, squeezing me so tight I have trouble breathing. “You were just a
baby
, and my God, I left you here for
years
before I even returned. And when I finally did come back, when you tried to tell me, I just…” he trails off as he begins to cry.

“God, Tatum. I’m so sorry. I was young and selfish and incapable of seeing anything other than what I wanted to see. I didn’t want to deal with
her
, I didn’t want to deal with
you
, I didn’t want to
deal
with anything. I just wanted to run, and in doing that, I left you alone to face a monster who tortured you.
For years
. I failed you, Tatum. I will
never
be able to forgive myself for what I put you through because of my own inability to face reality.”

Hands still on my shoulders, he pulls back, bending at the waist to position his face directly in my line of sight. His face drenched in tears, he narrows his gaze, prompting more to stream down his cheeks as his mouth trembles. “I’m
so, so
sorry.” Overcome with sorrow, he falls to his knees, holding his head in his hands as he continues to weep.

As I watch him cry in front of me, Harlow’s words slowly seep into my mind.

“…you need to release it and lay it to rest because right now it only binds you to this place in your life that you so desperately want to move past.”

With the absolute agony I just witnessed in Trace’s eyes mixed with the guilt and regret he feels permeating the air around us, I can no longer control my own tears. Covering my face with my hands, I let them fall, extracting the fury, the hatred, and the resentment as they seep from my soul and trail down my cheeks, their weight no longer harnessing my spirit.

Taking in a deep breath, I drop my hands and place them on his head. “I forgive you, Trace.” Face still directed towards the floor, he reaches up and covers the tops of my hands with his, squeezing my fingers tightly. Crouching down, I gently tilt his head backwards until I can see his eyes. “I forgive you.”

Letting go of my hands, he sets them gently on the sides of my face as he bends my head forward, placing a kiss on the top of my head. “I love you, Tatum. I hope that you know that.”

“I love you too, Trace.”