Runaway Love (2 page)

To say Scott saved me is an understatement. He brought light into my dark world. He brought companionship to my loneliness. He brought life into my dead soul. For the first time in my life, I felt like I mattered to someone, like I belonged. Finally, I knew what it was like to be worthy of love and affection, and I knew what it was like to share myself and care about someone else. Scott and I even made plans for our future. We were going to be together, no matter what. We had thought about running away, but Scott knew it wouldn’t work because he’d have no way to take care of me. Plus, if we were caught, our case workers could decide to separate us, and there was no way we could take that chance. We were happy just to be together with the world and its possibilities at our fingertips.

My entire world collapsed the day Scott told me he was leaving
.
He was seventeen, so he was able to leave whenever he chose; but since I was only fifteen, I had to stay behind. Scott promised me he'd be back. He said he had a plan to create a happy, stable life for us - he was going to get a well-paying job and find a nice home. He told me I would always be on his mind until we could be together. I never doubted his promise to come back for me. In fact, that promise is what kept me going during my darkest, loneliest days. I was certain I would open the door one day to find Scott ready to whisk me away from my living hell.

Now it’s ten years later, and I'm a twenty-five year-old married woman with a five year-old son. One would think that I’m happily settled down and living my dream, but even after all these years, I’m still waiting…

Holy shit!
I feel my heart accelerate and my body shake as I stare in shocked disbelief at the glossy magazine covers while I’m waiting to check out at the grocery store. I somehow manage to place my items on the belt before I grab a magazine. Sure enough, it’s
him
. I run my fingers over a picture of Scott lying on the beach with a beautiful blonde. I quickly flip through the pages to find his story: SCOTT PETERS RELAXING ON BEACH WITH MAXINE RIVERS!

I’ve tried Googling him throughout the years, but I was never able to find information on him. Now I know why! He changed his last name and moved to England. He must’ve really wanted to get away from me!

“Excuse me, people have places to go!” a rude customer behind me snarls out, interrupting my thoughts. I place the magazine back on the shelf and pay for my groceries. I glance at Scott’s picture one more time with a new mission in mind.

When I get home, I’m relieved to discover my husband, Tony, isn't there so I have some private time before I have to pick up my son. With an odd feeling of urgency, I grab my laptop and immediately start Googling SCOTT PETERS. I practically devour the pictures and information that pop up on my screen. I search through the images first, needing to see the boy – er, man – who shattered my heart. I find several pictures of him with the same gorgeous, blonde model he was on the beach with in the magazine. I'm guessing this is his girlfriend. I start reading some of the articles about him and learn he's a famous soccer player in England. Wow! How did that happen? I knew he was a great player, but I never imagined he’d become a wealthy, famous professional!

I feel an intense hunger to know everything about him as I totally immerse myself into the online world of Scott Peters. I should be pissed at him and angry that he almost destroyed me, but I can’t hate him or even be mad because Scott is still part of me. If I’m being honest for a change, I still want him in my life, even though I am married to an incredibly wonderful man. Yes, I’m fucked up.

I’m elated when I find his contact information on his personal website. Before I can second-guess myself or feel guilty, I send him a quick e-mail saying hi and reminding him who I am. I doubt he’ll ever see it, but at least I tried. Oh hell, who am I kidding? I’m hoping he gets my message and responds right away. Yes, I’m
really
fucked up.

I look at the time. Shit! It’s five-thirty already, and I only have thirty minutes to get across town to my son's karate lesson.  I drive like a mad woman and make it there in fifteen minutes. As I settle my nerves, I watch Scottie finish his practice. Yes, I named my son Scott - don’t judge me.

“Mom! Mom, today was so much fun!” I watch Scottie bounce up and down as we walk to the car. He’s always such a happy and energetic little man. I wish I could have some of his energy and exuberance!

“That's good, son! Are you going to help me cook dinner?” He enjoys helping me cook, and it’s one of my favorite activities for us to do together.

“Yes, Mom. I want hamburgers with CHEESE!” Scottie’s smile reaches his ears as he announces his dinner choice, and my heart melts.

“All right, Scottie, hamburgers with cheese it is,” I respond with a smile as I buckle him into his car seat. “But first, what is the magic word?”

“Please, Mom?”

“Okay. Anything for my favorite guy.”

When we get home, Scottie and I immediately start making my famous hamburgers with cheese so dinner will be ready by the time my husband gets home. As if on cue, Tony walks in with his briefcase in one hand while loosening his tie with the other hand. I look at my husband with his whiskey brown eyes and tussled black hair; he must’ve been running his fingers through his hair because of the stress.

“Is everything okay, honey?” I ask even though I already know he’ll say everything is okay.

“Yes, baby, I'm fine. The office is doing some downsizing, and unfortunately I had to let go of a few good people.” I watch him ruffle Scott's hair before he pours a glass of Scotch.

“Scottie, let's set the table, please.” Scottie, ever so helpful, immediately scuttles off to grab the napkins and silverware while I get the plates. I love that I don’t have to ask our son more than once to do something. Even though Scottie is only five, Tony and I have made sure to instill in him the importance of respect, cooperation, and compassion. My, how life would’ve been different if those qualities had been practiced in the group home!

When we sit down to eat, I watch Tony and Scottie interact with each other. I love seeing the special father-son bond they share. I hear my phone chime, breaking my reverie. I get up to check my phone and see that it's an email from Scott's publicist simply saying:

Scott would like for you to call him at the following number at nine am U.S. time.

I stare at the phone number in disbelief. All I have to do is press those numbers to hear Scott’s voice again? I’m going to talk to Scott again after ten years! My excitement makes me forget the pain of his broken promises. In fourteen hours, Scott will be back in my life! I’m smiling from ear to ear when my husband stops talking to Scottie to look at me curiously.

“You’re smiling! Who sent you such good news?” Tony questions me, an affectionate smile forming on his face.

“Oh, just Kimberly. She has news about the new neighbors,” I lie as I try to tone down my smile. I have to remember to keep my excitement to myself so Tony doesn’t get suspicious.

“Ah, you women and your gossip,” Tony says jokingly and winks at me before he turns his attention back to Scottie.

Before I return to the table, I save the number and delete the email. Should I be surprised that I can lie so easily to my husband? Probably not since I’ve never been fully honest with him since the day we started talking to each other. I sit down with a more relaxed look on my face and join the conversation as much as my mind will let me. I’m thankful for some alone time as I clear the table while Scottie does his homework and washes up for bed and Tony goes in the living room to watch the news. I can't wait for morning to come so I can call Scott! Luckily, I have international calls.

I finish the dishes, kiss Tony, and head upstairs to help Scottie get ready for bed. My son's room is karate themed from floor to ceiling, and it’s the perfect place for a five year-old boy to feel safe, peaceful, and loved. I made it a point to have Scottie involved in choosing the décor for his room and then decorating it as a family.  

“Scottie, is your homework done?”

“Yes, Mom. It was easy! It was just cut and paste. I even cleaned up my mess.” Scottie’s so bright and independent for his age!

“That’s great, honey! I’m so proud of you! It’s time for bed, do you need Mommy to tuck you in?”

“No, Mom. I'm almost six.” The indignant tone in his voice makes me smile and love him even more. Scottie is going to grow up to be a fine man like his father. He’ll be respectful, dependable, loving, and kind. What more could a mother ask for in her son?

I laugh while I give him a kiss on the forehead and tell him, “Okay, Scottie. I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom.” Every time I hear Scottie tell me this, I break inside because I never had the opportunity to say those words. I would’ve been an amazing daughter, but no one gave me that chance. I shake my head, trying to clear away my sadness and close the door to let Scottie sleep.

I go into the shower and just let the hot water from the showerhead pour down my body. As I wash off, I notice the big scar on my knee and remember how it happened.

I was mad and rebelling after Scott left. I tried sneaking out the window, but I ended up falling out of it and deeply cutting my knee on a piece of glass, instead. I sat in that spot for about twenty minutes until I realized I needed to go to the hospital. I was crying silently because I didn’t want anyone to hear me, but I guess I wasn’t quiet enough because when I looked around the corner, I saw a ticked-off Ms. Allen with her hand on her hip.

“Well, Grace, what were you trying to do?” I didn’t answer her, I couldn’t get any words out. She looked down at my knee, saw all the blood, and laughed at me before turning away.

I wondered if she was going to leave me there, but she returned with Tony and Paul to help me back into the house. I thought that was the nicest thing she had ever done for me, but that was until they took me into the bathroom and she had a big bottle of vodka in her hand. They sat me down onto the toilet seat
. 
Paul, being Ms. Allen’s lackey, stayed while Tony left. I knew his tender heart couldn’t handle being there to watch.

Paul began to roughly clean my cut out so Ms. Allen could slowly pour the whole big bottle of Vodka on to my knee. I had never been in so much pain in my life! I screamed so loudly that Paul covered my mouth with his hands. I thought I was going to be sick, but I didn’t see anything else because I blacked out.

I hear a knock at the bathroom door that brings me back to reality. 

“Is everything okay, baby?” Tony asks with obvious concern in his voice.

“I’m fine, honey. I’m coming out right now.” I turn the shower off, wrap a towel around my body, and walk into our bedroom.  I sit in front of the vanity and dry myself off. I watch Tony approach me from behind to help dry my hair.

“Grace, you’re so beautiful… I’ve been in awe of your beauty since the day I met you. I love you more and more every day, if that’s even possible.” I love how Tony looks at me with so much love in his eyes.

“Well, thank you, honey. Let’s be like old people and lie in bed and watch
I Love Lucy
.” He knows that’s my favorite show, so I know he won’t deny my request.

“Whatever makes you happy, dear. Lie down in bed and watch TV while I shower.” Tony doesn’t say anything about me not saying “I love you” to him; he never brings up my lack of affection, but I know it bothers him. He agreed to love me the way I am, though, and this is the way I am, so I try to make up for it in other ways. I finish putting lotion on my body and lie down naked under the covers. I love to feel his body close to mine, to feel his body heat letting me know that he’s by me. I love that he enjoys cuddling with me and making me feel protected.

As I watch
I Love Lucy
, I feel Tony come into the bed naked like me. I turn around and rest my head on his flat chest. I lie in his arms and think of how Tony came into my life.

“Grace? Are you still awake?”

“Yes, honey. I’m just enjoying you playing with my hair.” He knows it comforts me and puts me to sleep, so I believe that’s why he does it. He’ll do anything for me.

“Do you remember how we met?” Tony asks suddenly. I start to laugh. Of course I couldn’t forget that day at Ms. Allen’s. Scott had been gone for several months by that point, and I was deep in the throes of my depression. Ms. Allen and my teachers knew something was wrong with me, but none of them cared enough to pursue the matter as long as I said I was “fine but tired” when they asked how I was doing.

When Antonio Evans first arrived at Ms. Allen’s, our eyes met from across the room. In that one moment, I felt as though we connected in some way. Maybe it was because sadness and heartache attract sadness and heartache. I knew in that instant that his happy, pleasant act was just, in fact, an act. His eyes revealed his true feeling of feeling like he was the loneliest person in the entire world.  I saw Paul out of the corner of my eye, so I quickly looked away and pretended to focus on my writing. But my mind was on the sadness that consumed Tony. Throughout the next month or so, Tony’s heartache became obvious to everyone as he could no longer control or hide his tears. He cried all the time, so some of the kids started making fun of him. I never did because I understood that type of pain that cut so deeply that one couldn’t breathe, much less function every day.