Whispers from the Past (13 page)

Mark gave a half-smile. “I got into Duke.”

“Congratulations. That’s where I went.”

“When did you graduate?” Gabrielle asked.

“In December, with a degree in psychology.”

“What do you plan to do with that?”

“Go to graduate school.”

They all laughed, except me. I didn’t see the humor in his response.

Isaac held up his hand in a slight wave. “Nice to meet everyone.” He took a step nearer to me, his smile a question. “Susanna?”

“Thank you.” I nodded firmly. I would be fine.

He nodded back. “No need to see me out.” He faded into the shadows, the scuff of his shoes against stone blending into the night.

Gabrielle watched him go and then turned to me. “Is that the guy who drives the van?”

I stiffened. Mark had discussed Isaac with them? How much had he told them, perhaps about the trip to the soup kitchen? I wouldn’t like that at all. “Yes.”

“He’s not what I would’ve expected.” She exchanged glances with Benita.

“I agree. He’s hot.” She smiled dreamily. “Those eyes. Wow.”

“Boyfriend here,” Jesse said, swooping in to kiss her.

I didn’t wish to listen to joking about relationships when my own troubled me so profoundly. I hated to be difficult, but I couldn’t be here another moment longer. Stepping away from Mark, I met his gaze squarely. “Would you take me home, please?”

His eyes narrowed. “Sure.”

“I’m about to leave,” Gabrielle said. “I could take you, Susanna.”

“No, thank you. Mark will.”

My sharp words made the others restless with embarrassment.

“Okay,” Jesse said in an odd voice. “Guess that’s our cue to go.”

I cranked up the music in Mark’s truck and then sank into my corner, pressed against the passenger door.

Mark shot me a tense glance, his strong hands gripping the steering wheel.

As he navigated through city streets, I shifted to steal glances at the beauty of his profile.

I couldn’t understand how Gabrielle and Benita could call Isaac hot. He was handsome, to be sure. But “hot” meant more, did it not? Seductive? Intensely attractive? For me, there was only one man who was or could ever be hot. He sat even now on the opposite side of this vehicle, frustrated with me yet—for my sake—still contemplating a college we both knew he didn’t want to attend.

He shut off the engine once he’d parked. He was coming up with me. I gathered my things, my movements slow and weary. I did not relish the discussion ahead of us.

We entered the apartment silently. I reached for the light switch but hesitated to flip it on. The darkness suited my mood. I let my hand drop.

“Don’t you like my friends?” he asked.

I kept my back to him. “I like them quite well.”

“Then what was up with you tonight? The minute you showed up—the party stopped.”

“I’m not good at hanging out.”

“They want to be your friends, but you don’t try to join in.”

“How can I? The only way for me to avoid mistakes is to remain quiet and in your shadow.” I stood in rigid despair, hating to point out the obvious. “I am nothing like your friends. There is no place for me in your circle.”

“Your place is by my side.”

“Why do you want me there when all I can be is a mute observer?”

“Dammit, Susanna. Lately it feels like every conversation goes straight to anger.”

“It’s more than anger.” I half-turned to him. Had he not listened to me? I was more of a burden than a girlfriend. “We have lost our reasons to be together.”

He waited barely an arm’s length away, utterly still. “What does that mean?”

“When I was dying, you saved me. When I needed an identity, you created one.” The truth of my words pierced me, allowing the frightening thoughts I’d held at bay to finally burst through. “I have nothing left for you to fix.”

“We’re more than that, Susanna.”

“Don’t deny this, Mark. You know I’m right. Our relationship was built atop my problems—and now that they’re gone, we find ourselves on different paths.” I swallowed hard. I would never be anything other than a girl on the fringes of a world I didn’t understand, while he wanted to live in it to the fullest. “You want to dance at proms and attend college in the mountains.”

“What I want is you.” His voice was low and controlled. “What do you want?”

“For you to be proud of me.” I leaned against the wall, relying on it to keep me upright, crushed by the knowledge that I had turned into what I dreaded most. Shackles for him. “My lack of progress disappoints you.”

He stood beside me, a motionless shadow in the darkened room. I could feel the heat of him, could drink in the clean, spicy scent of soap and cologne.

“You don’t disappoint me, but it’s true that I don’t understand why you’re not trying harder with friends or jobs or—” He stopped.

What had he been about to say? Making out? He didn’t get that from me, either.

Earlier this evening, I told Isaac that Mark wanted only the best for me. The time had come for me to do the same for him. The next few minutes would be agonizing. I would have to keep the explanation brief or else I wouldn’t be able to get through this. “I can no longer be what you deserve, Mark. It’s time to let you go.”

“What?” He cocked his head to one side, as if not trusting his hearing. “Susanna, you’re scaring me. What did you just say?”

“I am ending our relationship.”

“
No
.” His breathing became labored. “You can’t mean that. It’s crazy.”

“I am the most sane I’ve been in a while.” My head throbbed from the effort of clinging to a calm demeanor. “We’re not right for each other.”

“I can’t believe this.” He closed the gap between us, bracing his hands on the wall on either side of my head. “You’re dumping me?”

I frowned at this word. “Dumping?”

“Breaking up? Throwing me away?”

I did not like those terms, but I gave a jerky nod.

“Not good enough. You have to say it,” he hissed.

“We are…” I could hardly force the rest of it out, “… breaking up.” I gazed up into his glittering eyes. “You are free.”

“Holy shit.” His face dipped slowly, so very slowly, until his lips hovered just above mine.

I longed to lean across the space separating us, to lose myself in the sweetness of his kiss. But now wasn’t the time to weaken. I averted my face and prayed to hold on a bit longer.

“What exactly am I
free
to do, Susanna?” The heat of his breath whispered over my cheek. “Am I free to wonder if you ache for me the way I ache for you? Free to worry if you’ve stumbled into another mess that only I can get you out of? Free to hope that I’ll ever stop loving you? Is that what you mean by free?” His voice had grown soft and bitter. “Because that’s not freedom at all.”

I loved Mark. I ached for him now. And a future without him terrified me. But he had uttered the very words that confirmed the wisdom of this action. As long as I was his obligation, I could never be his equal.

Trembling from the strain, I ducked under his arm, crossed to the door, and opened it. “You may leave.”

He pushed away from the wall and turned his back on me, his fingers raking through his hair. “I love you, Susanna. Don’t do this.”

“Love is not enough.”

He shouted a curse word I had never heard him speak before. With shocking speed, he spun around, charged across the room, and caught my face between his hands. “Stop it,” he said, his expression fierce, his touch gentle. “We can work this out. Please.”

I wrenched away from him and gestured toward the parking lot. “It is over,” I said in the firmest tone I could muster.

He stepped outside and stood a moment, shoulders hunched, head bowed. “We will never be over.”

I shut the door, threw the deadbolt, and then crumpled to the floor.

C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN

D
EFENSIVE
M
OVEMENT

If I’d been asked later how long I sat in my truck outside her apartment, I wouldn’t have been able to say. It was like the world went on pause. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t move.

What had just happened in there?

You are free
.

I threw back my head and screamed at the universe. No, I wasn’t free. Not now. Not ever. I loved her. She loved me. We were amazing together. How the hell did that lead to a breakup?

My breaths came in hard, fast puffs. This hurt so bad that I couldn’t take it in. I slammed my hands against the steering wheel until the ache forced me to stop.

At least I knew now, with complete certainty, that Ford-built trucks could stand up to a lot of abuse.

The whole thing had happened so fast. One moment, I was asking why she didn’t like hanging out with my friends. The next, I was history.

I couldn’t just give up. I should charge back up there and demand that she cut out this noble shit. It was
my
college choice. If I wanted her to be my number-one priority, why couldn’t she be happy about that? Duke was a great school. It made a huge amount of sense for me to go there. It was hard to get into. Most of my classmates would consider it a better option than Newman.

And as far as her career plans were concerned? Working in unskilled jobs for the rest of her life? Fine. Got the message. It wasn’t worth wrecking a beautiful relationship over.

Couldn’t she see that what we had was rare? Ours was more than the typical teen relationship. There was no drama, no cheating, no talking behind each other’s backs. Susanna and I were perfect for each other.

Would she listen if I begged her to hear me out?

No, this was Susanna. She didn’t do things lightly. She
meant
this.

Just thinking about what an insane waste this was would make me psycho. I had to stop.

It was time to go home. I cranked the engine of my truck, reversed from my parking space, and drove like a madman.

My thoughts wouldn’t shut up.

How could I get through the next few days? Or weeks? Or lifetime? It wasn’t like I’d never see her. She lived with Marissa. My grandparents adored her. Our paths would cross all the time.

How could I see her and not touch her? Not be
with
her?

When I pulled into the garage, Mom’s car was still there, but Dad’s wasn’t. If I was lucky, she had already gone to her room for the night. I just couldn’t get into it with her right now.

I burst into the house in a daze and paced around the kitchen, breathing through my mouth, wanting the pain to end. Wondering if that were even possible.

Pausing before the fridge, I yanked open the door. My favorite sports drinks were lined up like little soldiers next to a six-pack of Dad’s favorite beer.

Oh, yeah. Drunk sounded good.

When my dad got home a few minutes later, I was slumped in a chair, my fingers wrapped around a half-empty bottle.

“Excuse me, son.” He dropped his computer case beside the table, pulled the beer from my hand, and poured the remainder in the sink. “Better have a good explanation for this.”

“I think I do.”

His gaze narrowed on my face. “Want to tell me about it?”

“Susanna broke up with me.” No emotion in that statement. Nope. It had been delivered in a dead tone.

He slid onto the chair beside me. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Neither do I.”

My brain clicked through what I could remember. It hadn’t seemed that bad when we walked into her apartment. We were headed for a fight, but…

Actually, she hadn’t fought. She just gave up. On us. Why?

“Did she explain her reasons?”

“Yeah.” I shrugged. “Maybe. I didn’t really get it.”

“She doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who plays games.” Dad’s voice was gruff.

I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the sadness on his face. “Yeah. She’s not playing.”

“Okay, son. Go to bed soon.”

His footsteps faded up the stairs.

I stayed where I was until the grandfather clock chimed midnight, and then I went to my room. But it was more of the same there. Thoughts of Susanna—of her telling me it was over—hammering in my brain.

Last year’s Memorial Day was like a dividing line between
before
and
after
. I’d awakened that morning to begin my final summer as a high-school kid. Hours later, I met Susanna, and everything changed.

She’d given me a real purpose, and now it was gone.

Around two AM, I rolled out of bed and took a shower. A long, hot shower. But thoughts of her wouldn’t leave me. I switched to cold water. That didn’t help, either.

Back to bed. I lay there, staring at the ceiling I couldn’t even see in the dark.

Was this hopeless?

Didn’t I get a say? Didn’t I have the right to fight for us?

I had to try.