Changing Forever (34 page)

I throw a bag of popcorn in the microwave and pour myself a
big glass of lemonade. The nights are getting hotter, and it’s getting more and more difficult to chase the humidity out of the house. As soon as the sun went down tonight, I opened the windows and cranked up the ceiling fans.

The microwave beeps, and the smell of fresh kettle corn hits my nose, making my stomach growl.

Right as I’m about to take my usual seat on the couch, the doorbell rings. Glancing up at the clock, I notice that it’s almost ten, and my heart rate picks up. Dad is out of town on an overnight camping and fishing trip, and last I heard, Clay went with him.

I hesitate for a few seconds, looking down at my short cotton shorts and oversized white t-shirt. I could just hide out, but all the lights are on and my car is parked outside the garage. It’s a little too obvious.

I tighten my ponytail, deciding to chance a peek through the side window. As I’m taking small steps against the wall to stay out of view, the bell rings again. Then again.

You know that feeling
you get when you are watching a horror movie, and you know something really bad is about to happen? That’s how I feel as I peel the curtain back. I’ve watched way too many episodes of those true crime shows … it always starts like this.

At first, I can’t make out my visitor’s face in the darkness, but as I look in the distance, I spot a familiar car parked in front of my house. I swear my heart rate just doubled as I brace my hands against the wall to stabilize my weak knees.

I last saw that car almost three weeks ago in the parking lot at the fairgrounds, which means the dark figure on the other side of my door is someone I don’t want to see right now. Or maybe ever.

But yet I want to know why he’s here. Drake Chambers doesn’t do anything unless he wants to. Why would he want to be here?

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, I try to get my emotions in check. He’s hurt me so much. Done things I’ll never forget. And I’ve asked myself over and over if I’d ever be able to forgive him.

I honestly don’t know.

Slowly, I grip the doorknob, closing my eyes as I pull it open. When I think it’s safe, I open them again and let them take in the familiar features of the guy I let myself fall hard and fast for months ago. The guy who turned me upside down and spun me around before standing me back up and walking away, leaving me staggering.

“Hi.” His voice is quiet and screams of fear. I’ve never seen Drake Chambers quite like this. He’s played on much bigger fields.

His eyes stay on mine, but then they roam down, taking in my breasts and my ever-growing belly. They linger there, and when his eyes finally come back up to my face, his head stays down. There’s more remorse written there than could ever be expressed in words.

I stand frozen, still shocked he’s even here … on my front porch. I notice things about him that I didn’t a few weeks ago. His hair is a little longer than it was when we were still in college, and he’s lost weight. I can tell by the way his khaki shorts hang lower on his waist, and the way his t-shirt hugs his thinner abs.

“Em, are you okay?” he asks, taking a step closer.

I flinch, not wanting him in my space. “What are you doing here? How did you find out where I live?”

Now it’s his turn to flinch. He grips the top of the doorjamb and stares at me with those blue eyes where I used to get so lost. He used to be able to talk me into anything.

I wonder if he looks at me long enough, like he is right now, if he still could.

“I need to talk to you, and it’s not hard to find anyone in this state. There aren’t that many of us.”

“What could you possibly have to say that you haven’t already?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. They’re my armor … my heart’s protection.

If only that were possible.

“Just give me a few minutes, Em. That’s all I want.”

The way he says my name … my resolve to push him away is slipping.

Falling.

Deeper and deeper.

I have to know why he’s here at least. Otherwise, I’ll sit and wonder. Just like I have with my mom. I don’t want to go through that again.

“Wait out here,” I say, pointing to the old patio furniture that adorns one end of our front porch. “I’m going to grab a different shirt.”

He looks past me, rubbing the back of his neck. “Is anyone home?”

I shake my head, gripping the side of the door. “Just wait out here,” I say, pushing the screen door closed.

When I’m back in my house alone, I lean over the sink and take a few seconds to catch my breath. Seeing him is doing all sorts of things to me, and none are reactions I expected to have. I thought I’d scream at him until I had no voice left, but all I need right now is closure. We each need to say what we need to say and go our own way.

And what if he wants to be part of our baby’s life?

After grabbing my gray t-shirt from the laundry room, I walk back to the front door, opening it slowly. Drake’s seated on one of the old wooden rocking chairs, giving me a choice between the old porch swing and the other chair.

“I don’t bite,” he jokes, resting his elbows on his knees.

“That’s debatable.”

“I get that you’re pissed at me, but will you please just sit down and let me say what I need to say? I think we both need this.”

I rub my fingers over my temples. The headaches I’ve been getting these last few weeks are starting to get to me. “Five minutes,” I say, finally sitting in the chair next to him.

He does nothing but watch me for a while. It’s dark, and the only sound that fills the country air is the crickets … the same sound that puts me to sleep every night.

“First, I have to ask you something. What you said a few weeks ago about the baby being mine—”

“It’s yours,” I say, cutting him off. If he came to question me about Clay and the baby, this conversation isn’t even going to last five minutes. It’s going to be done now.

He stands, pacing back and forth on the porch. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried. I called one day and left a message,” I reply, resting my elbows on my knees. Since I ran into Drake at the fair, I’ve felt guilty about not trying harder. Even after everything he did, he deserved more from me.

“I never got a message,” he says, stopping in front of me with his hands on his hips.

I sigh, feeling the frustration of this. Of all of it. “I left it with a girl. She said she would give it to you.”

“Damn it!” he shouts, taking his seat again. “Tess must’ve answered it. I’ve told her a hundred times to leave my phone alone.”

“Maybe I should have tried again, but I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. I just couldn’t do it, Drake.”

He leans forward in his chair, burying his head in his hands. “I’m sorry.” His fingers grip his hair, pulling it away from his scalp almost painfully so. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” I ask, throwing my hands in the air. “Are you sorry for pushing me away in the hospital
? Are you sorry for telling me your injury was my fault? Or are you sorry because you thought I slept with someone else right after you broke my heart? What exactly are you sorry for, Drake?”

He lifts his head, but it’s hard to see his expression under the pale moonlight. “All the above. I’m also sorry I wasn’t there with you when you found out. I’m sorry I didn’t get to go to your first doctor’s appointment. I’m sorry that what we did together sent you back here.”

He pauses, glaring up at the stars. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you, too, because I do, Em. I love you so much that everything I did to you hurts like hell. Deep down in my chest, Em, I feel it.”

Leaning forward, I mimic his position from before, pressing my forehead to my palms. I don’t want to look at him. I’m slipping. Falling. Deeper. “The things you said in the hospital … I will never forget them. Why would you say those things if you loved me? Please, help me understand.”

Before I realize what’s going on, he’s kneeling in front of me, lifting my chin with his fingers. “Look at me. Please.”

I comply, tears pooling. His voice has never been more sincere, gentler. It’s wrapping itself around my heart, and all I can do is listen.

“That morning, in the hospital, I heard the nurses talking about me. About how I may never walk again, and I couldn’t put you through that. I knew you’d stay with me, but I also knew your dreams. If you were with me, you would have had to choose, so I chose for you.”

“Drake,” I say, biting the inside of my cheeks to keep my emotions locked up. I’ve shed too many tears over this. So many nights spent laying in my room listening to the saddest fucking slow songs I could find while staring into space. “Look where I am right now!” I yell, throwing my arms in the air again.

His face moves closer to mine, his breath hitting my lips. “I said I’m sorry.”

“You made me feel hated. You made me feel stupid. No one has ever made me feel that way … not even my mom.”

He grabs my face in his hands. “I knew the only way you’d leave is if I made you hate me. I thought it was the only way. Don’t you get it?”

“No,” I cry, shaking my head. “I don’t get it. I could never hurt someone like that, especially if I loved them.”

Gripping my face tighter, the dim light hits his face at just the right angle. Unshed tears glisten in his eyes, and the path of a fallen one shows on his cheek. “It’s a fucked up form of love, but it’s the one I know. I’ve spent years protecting my mom and my sisters … I thought I was loving you by giving you what you wanted. I didn’t want to stand in your way.”

“Did you ever stop and think that maybe it was you I wanted?”

He shakes his head slowly. “I couldn’t see a reason for you to love me enough to give everything up. Football has always defined me, and I don’t have that anymore.”

“So what’s different now?” I whisper, entranced in every word he says.

“I’ve had time to think about what’s important to me. Football was important to my dad. It was his dream, and you know what? After they told me I probably wouldn’t be able
to play again, I was torn up, but it didn’t have anything to do with the game. It was always you. I’ve missed you so much.”

I want to wrap my hands around every word he says, but there’s this wall that won’t come down. I can’t quite reach over.

“Why are you here now? After all these months?” I ask, gripping his wrists. I try to pull his hands away from my face, but either his hold is too strong, or I don’t really want him to let go.

“I finally feel like I deserve you,” he whispers.

Those words clamp my heart. Tight. Squeezing. I hope that I didn’t do anything to make him feel undeserving before. He was good enough to make me forget about all my dreams for a while. If he only knew it takes a special person to do that.

“I broke all my rules for you. That should tell you something.”

He sweeps his thumb across my cheek. “I see that now,” he says, looking down at my round stomach.

“So what do you want exactly?”

He lets go of me, sitting back on his heels to grab something from his back pocket. When he kneels in front of me again, a small dark box sits in the center of his hand.

Pinching my eyes closed, I take a deep breath. This is too much. I can’t handle such a swing of emotions in one evening. Ten minutes ago I was pissed and annoyed. Five minutes ago, I was confused and hurt. Now, well, now I have no idea what to think.

He opens the box, and though the contents are hard to see, the sparkle in the center stands out. The pissed and annoyed phase is creeping back … this isn’t how I thought this moment in my life would happen, and I’m not
going to accept it.

“Don’t,” I say, grabbing the box from his hand and snapping it shut. I place it back in his hand and stand, forcing him back. “I can’t do this right now. Not like this.”

“Emery! Please.”

Walking toward the door, I try to pretend he’s not even here. He won’t let me. I feel him right behind me as I spin around, intent on making my point known. “If we were meant to be, things wouldn’t be this difficult.”

I turn back around, but he grabs onto my hand. “I’m not giving up, on you or our baby. I’m going to be here.”

Looking over my shoulder, I say, “I won’t keep you from our baby, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He lets go of my hand, running his long fingers through his hair. “Is that all you think I’m worried about?”

“It’s all that matters anymore.” I take a few quick steps and disappear through the old screen door without a second glance.

I shut and lock the inside door in case he gets any ideas about following me. When I’m only steps away, there’s more knocking. Without giving it much thought, I turn back around and open the door. I need him to leave, everything that needed to be said has been. “Drake, please.”

“I forgot to give you something,” he says softly, looking down at me with sad eyes.

I open my mouth, thinking he’s going to bring up the ring, but he pulls an oversized stuffed frog from behind his back. I’ve always had a thing about the small green creatures, but I’ve never told him that.

“I saw you eyeing one like this at the fair. I want to prove to you that I can give you what you want so I searched until I found one like it.” He swallows, hesitantly reaching his finger up to brush against my jaw. “I want to give you everything … especially the things that make you smile.”

“Drake, I—”

His finger presses to my lips. “Don’t say anything. Just think about it … I’ll wait for you.”

Before I disappear inside again, he places the frog in my arms, smiling sadly. Maybe I shouldn’t take it, but I don’t want to let it go. “Goodbye, Drake,” I whisper, shutting the door behind me.

I grab my uneaten bowl of popcorn from the coffee table and dump the whole thing into the garbage. After quickly turning off all the lights, I head upstairs and try to get comfortable in my bed with my new gift tucked under my arm. I don’t want to like it, but I do. It’s soft and smells just like him.

Closing my eyes, I try to fall to sleep. I’m doing what I do best … blocking everything out and pretending like it never even happened. It’s impossible, though, because all I can think about is Drake.