Living With Regret (33 page)

This party is exactly what I wanted to avoid. A bunch of my old high school classmates falling over drunk, slurring their words, and even a few hook-ups. Cory disappeared more than twenty minutes ago to find us drinks. If I had a few drinks in me, I could ignore it, dull my senses, but I can’t now. I just want Cory back so we can leave.

“Hey Rachel, where’s Cory?” It’s Kyler. He’s someone who Cory hung out with a lot in high school. A nice guy but he lacks some common sense.

“He went to get us a drink. How’s Northern Iowa treating you?”

“It’s good. It’s good,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I have everything for lemon drop shots over by the cooler. You want one?”

I scan the crowd again. No sign of Cory. “Why not.” At least the alcohol will help me tolerate this scene.

Following Kyler to the back of his pick-up truck, numerous sets of eyes follow me. It’s not abnormal … it happens a lot, especially when I’m with Cory. Tonight, they just feel different, though, and I can’t put my finger on why.

“Don’t tell anyone I said this, but the only reason I bring all this shit is to get girls to talk to me. I give them a couple, and they tell me just about anything I want to hear.”

I watch him fill one of the tiny, cheap shot glasses he always brings with him. “Nice, Kyler.”

“Some of us haven’t been dating the same person since freshman year in high school. We need all the help we can get.”

“Some things never change, do they, Kyler?”

“You haven’t,” he remarks, looking deep into my eyes. “Wrist.”

This isn’t the first time I’ve taken a shot from Kyler. I know the drill. I lick my wrist, and he uses a small shaker to pour sugar on it. He places a lemon slice in my left hand and the full shot glass in my right. “If you weren’t Cory’s girl, I’d let you do this off my abs.”

“I’m sorry I’m missing out on that,” I say, licking the sugar from my wrist. I quickly chase it down with the shot, then take the lemon between my teeth. I wince. These things aren’t my favorite, but they’re still better than the beer they usually have on tap.

He grins. “Want another?”

“No,” I reply, handing him back his shot glass. “I need to find Cory.”

“Rachel, I—”

I raise my hand and walk away. “Bye, Kyler. It was nice seeing you.”

After walking the perimeter, I still can’t find him so I head off toward a grove of trees. He’s probably not in here, but I’ve looked everywhere else. It’s dark. Too dark. I walk around the edge, scared that if I walk between the trees, I’ll trip over branches or God knows what else people left in here.

When I’m on the far side, the one you can’t see from the party, feminine moans fill the otherwise quiet night. I step in past the first line of trees, more curious than anything. The moans get louder, and now, I hear a male whisper accompanying them. Step through one more line of trees, I tell myself. One more.

I immediately wish I’d stayed back. Cory is wearing the light blue polo shirt I bought him for his birthday, but it’s pulled up along his waist. His shorts and boxers are down at his ankles. I can’t see his face, but I know it’s him. Thin bare legs are wrapped around his waist.

Whoever she is, I hate her. I want to rip all the hair from her scalp and shove it down her throat. Tears well in my eyes, and I take a couple more quiet steps. Then, he moves his lips to her neck, giving me a perfect view of her face. I’m shocked. Sick. Stunned. Of all the people on this world, I never thought it would be her. Never.

Under the little bit of moonlight that shines through the trees, I see her eyes are closed. I want her to open them and see me. I want her to see what she’s done to me.

His betrayal hurts.

Her betrayal kills.

I never in a million years thought this could happen.

She wraps her arms around his shoulders and opens her eyes. I’m waiting, and it doesn’t take her long to find me. I bet my face looks a lot like the one she wears right now. Shocked. Sad. The only difference is mine has a thick layer of disgust over top.

Her lips part. She’s either going to fall into euphoria or call me out from the shadows. Neither one is something I want to hang around for, so I run. Not toward the parked cars or the party itself, but in the opposite direction. Far, far away from everything. Far from the life I’d been living.

The last hole has been filled. The sequence of events all lined up, even if they don’t necessarily make sense. She said it started around Christmas. That’s always a busy time, but this last year, I took a short ski trip with my mom’s side of the family. Three days … that was all.

I thought I knew him. I thought I knew her. I’ve never been more wrong. Never. The depth of betrayal runs through my skin into my veins. I don’t think I’ll ever get over this. Our relationships are built on trust, and almost every relationship I had has been broken. How am I supposed to come back from that?

“What are you doing out here? It’s freezing.” I don’t answer. I don’t open my eyes. I’m trying too hard not to feel, and if I look at Sam, that’s exactly what will happen. Sam didn’t come out to the field that night with malicious intent. He didn’t come out there to ruin my relationship with Cory. He was there with Madison, and ultimately, he was there to save me.

Sam protected me for months … from this. Maybe I should be grateful, because this would’ve been impossible to handle on top of Cory’s death.

It doesn’t mean I’m going to forgive him for keeping things from me for so long … I can’t.

His strong arms reach me, lifting me up against his warm body. My eyes remain closed, too tired and swollen from crying to even look where we're going. His shoes crunch at a rapid pace against the fresh snow.

“What happened?” he asks, never breaking his quick pace.

Something tells me if I just say her name, he’ll understand. He’ll get it. Maybe he doesn’t know about the baby, but he knew about them. I wonder if he was ever going to tell me? Does he get how stupid this makes me feel? I should have seen it. Maybe I did, and I just didn’t want to admit it.

“Madison,” I whisper, burying my face in his black leather jacket.

For the first time since he picked me up from the ground, his footsteps slow. If it’s even possible, his arms tighten around me. I was right. He knows, and not only that, he feels. His heart beats the rhythm of mine. He knew how much this would hurt me. He caged me to protect me. He tried to protect my ideals about love, and by doing so, he may have actually strengthened them. Cory could have broken every ideal I’ve ever had, but Sam saved them by sacrificing himself for me.

The relationship we had, the one we built on, was important to him. He finally had me, or at least most of me. He had to have known that by holding the truth from me, he was putting all of that at risk. Don’t get me wrong … I’m pissed at him. I almost wish I’d heard the truth from him, not Madison, but it’s easy to say that now. After the initial shock wears off.

My anger shifted from Sam to Cory to Madison … to myself. How could I not see what was going on? I was basically on my way to becoming like my mom. To becoming the type of woman I didn’t want to be.

We move quickly through the snow again. The cold no longer bothers me; I’m too numb, too exposed.

I must have drifted off for a little bit. My mind gets a temporary reprieve, and when I wake up, he’s walking up a flight of stairs. Heavy boots hitting against the metal staircase. The smell of cedar. I should’ve known he wasn’t taking me to my house.

He kneels, turning the knob and pushing the door open. “We need to get these clothes off you. You’re soaked.”

A shiver runs through my whole body. My feet and hands are numb. My energy drained. I’m not in a place where I can argue. If I were, I’d ask him to put me down. I’d tell him that just because I understand what he did, doesn’t mean I forgive him. Trust is delicate. Once broken, it’s hard to put back together.

He sets me down on the edge of his bed. I’m so weak, but he uses his torso to hold me up. First to go is my soaked coat, followed by my sweater. I think my bra joins them, but I’m not sure. I’m so tired. So weak.

“Okay, I’m going to lay you back. We have to get these wet jeans off you.” He gently guides me back, removing both shoes, and peeling back my soaked jeans. His soft comforter lulls me … I just want to sleep. And sometimes, like now, I never want to wake up.

“Stay with me, baby. We need to get you under the blankets.” I hear him moving around the room, but all I want to do is curl up into a ball and let the day drift away.

The bed shifts beside me, then I’m back in his arms again. This time, he doesn’t take me far, lying me down on the center of the mattress. I expect him to throw the comforter over me and let me go to sleep, but the mattress dips behind me. His chest feels like fire against my back. His legs feel the same as they tangle with mine. The only thing separating the two of us when he wraps the comforter around us is his mesh shorts.

“Go to sleep,” he whispers against my hair.

And I do. I drift to sleep just as quickly as I fell apart earlier.

I WAKE UP IN
the same position I was in when I fell asleep. Sam’s warm body is still locked tightly with mine. His lips are pressed to the back of my neck. They’re just there, lingering, providing an extra form of comfort—not really kissing me. But he’s letting me know he’s here, in case I have any doubts.

I run my feet along the cotton sheets, feeling the sensation of the smooth threads against my skin. My fingers tingle as they brush against Sam’s forearms.

“You awake?” he asks, lips still against my skin.

“Hmm, kind of,” I murmur, trying to pull away from him. I won’t deny that I still feel things when Sam touches me, but I can’t act on them. Too much has happened.

His grip on me tightens, clamping me to his chest. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going home.” I wiggle with no luck.

“You’re not going anywhere until we talk.”

Frustrated, I quit fighting him. I don’t have the energy anyway. I’ll listen like he asked, but then I’m leaving. “Talk,” I say, rolling his sheets between my fingers.

“I couldn’t tell you,” he blurts. “Think about it, Rachel. If I would have said, ‘Oh, by the way, I was there the night of the accident and the reason you were upset that night was because you found out your boyfriend and best friend were sneaking around behind your back,’ what would you have said?”

I shrug. Honestly, I would’ve had a hard time believing him without seeing it myself. It would have been a difficult one to swallow.

“I’ve given you your space, but now, you’re going to listen to me.” He inhales a deep breath. “What we had, what we
have
, means everything to me. I hate that you even thought for a minute that it doesn’t. I would never do what Cory did. Just the thought of it makes me sick. I was going to tell you … that morning when you remembered I’d been there that night. There was just no easy way to say it.” His voice is laced with tremendous sadness and regret. I don’t feel bad for the way I reacted that morning, but he should have told me a long time ago, no matter what the outcome might have been.

“How long had you known … before that night?” Holding my breath, I count the seconds it takes him to answer. This is going to be the deciding factor between us moving forward together or moving on apart. If he knew long before that night and didn’t tell me…

“I didn’t,” he replies, gripping me tighter. “I swear to God, I didn’t. Madison called me, and I could barely make out a word she said except your name. Then, she said something about you catching her with Cory, and I was so pissed. Not for myself but for you.”

Closing my eyes, I let out a pent up breath. “You were never with Lidia, were you?”

He laughs nervously. “I talked to her that night, but that was it. I didn’t want to explain the whole Madison thing without explaining everything else first.”

I hate that he was ever with Madison in any way. Did he care for her like he’s caring for me right now? Did he tell her about his mom and dad, his struggles? Did he have feelings for her?

His hand slides up over my hip, his warm fingers caressing my side. “I know what you’re thinking … Madison and I hung out a few times. We were sort of friends with minimum benefits. It was about fun … nothing else. I never slept with her.”

“I don’t need to hear anymore.”

“Yes, you do.” He scoots back just enough that he can press me on to my back. For the first time this morning, I’m seeing his face. His gorgeous, yet very tired, eyes look down at me. “The way I’m laying here with you right now, I never did that with her. No one has ever been in this bed. No one has been in here.” He grabs my hand, resting it on his chest. “The way my heart is beating … that only happens when I’m with you. I love you, Rachel. I’m in love with only you.”

He’s so sure, and I think I am, too … sure that I love him. When someone’s seen the worst of you, but looks at you the way he’s looking at me right now … that’s love in its purest form. I love him because of the way he loves me. The way he’s brought me from where I was to where I am. I love him because of the way he is—kind, protective, always there. I just love to love him.