Riddled with confusion.
That’s how I’ve felt ever since Kason kissed me.
And then there’s the guilt because I pressed my lips against his and kissed him right back.
So many emotions surfaced, and in the midst of talking about our past, somehow, in some unexplainable way, it became our present. It was as if no time had elapsed and we were back to where we left off. But all it took was one slip of the mind for Micah to pop into my head, reminding me that I no longer belong to Kason, but him—the one I plan to spend the rest of my life with.
I wanted to bail right then and there, but I couldn’t leave Kason with him being so distraught after finally hearing the truth from me. So, I stayed a while longer. We talked, we cried, and we held each other, but no amount of consoling would ever be enough to repair all the damage that has been done. We’re forever scarred by our past.
Before dawn, I decided to leave despite his request for me to stay. The following day, I woke to a call from Micah to let me know he was about to board the first flight that would take him to our soon-to-be home. There was excitement in his voice, and I did my best to match it, to cover the fact that my stomach was in knots and the taste of Kason’s kiss was still on the tip of my tongue.
The whole conversation felt like a lie. I debated just coming clean and telling him what had happened, but what was the point? It will never happen again. It was us tying the ends of what I left frayed. In a way, it felt right to soothe such heartache with a last kiss.
My mother was at work all day, so I was stuck at the house, going crazy in my thoughts since my car is still in Miami. Thankfully, today is Sunday, and since my mom is home, we are going out for a light jog along Bayshore this morning. Tying on my trainers, I whip my hair back into a knot and head downstairs.
“You ready?” Mom asks from the kitchen.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
We head out the front door and down the circular drive which dumps right onto Bayshore. Crossing to the other side of the street that lines the water, we start off with a brisk walk before speeding up to a jog. The salt from the water charges my energy as I take in lungfulls. Seagulls squawk as they glide through the air, which is already dense with humidity.
“Did Micah make it to San Diego yesterday?” my mom asks after we set a steady pace.
“Yeah. I haven’t heard from him this morning, but we talked last night when he got to his hotel.”
“Is he looking at properties today?”
A couple of moms with jogging strollers pass, going in the opposite direction before I respond, “No. Today he and Zach meet with a new company he just signed a sponsorship deal with. Tomorrow he’ll start looking at a few properties with the realtor.”
“How are you feeling about not being a part of that?”
“I mean, a little conflicted, but I’m also happy that I get to spend some extra time with you before I move out there.”
“I’m happy you’re here, too,” she says as she glances over to me. “Oh, and I was planning to go over to Sharon’s apartment later this week if you want to come help me. I’m going to need to pick up some packing boxes beforehand.”
“Of course I’ll help. Is Kason going, too?” I ask with a twinge of reluctance about seeing him again.
“I don’t know. I doubt it.” She wipes the sweat that’s already forming at her hairline. “Have you heard from him since you went over to see him the other evening?”
“No.”
She eyes me and asks curiously, “Did everything go okay?”
I slow my pace next to her, and she pulls back, too, until we come to a complete stop.
“What is it?”
We step over to the ornate barrier and out of the way of the other people. Squinting against the large rising sun, I say, “I told him about the rape.”
Her mouth opens in surprise. “How did he take it?”
Leaning my hip against the stucco railing, I’m a bit winded when I tell her, “Not so well. I hate that I had to throw that on his shoulders the same day as the funeral, but he asked, and I didn’t feel right about keeping him in that dark any longer.”
“And how are you feeling?”
“Time has passed, and it’s easier for me to talk about, but it just brought up a lot between us. It isn’t as if either one of us ever got any closure. And now looking back . . . I don’t know . . . I’ve just been questioning a lot of stuff.”
She leans against the railing next to me. “I think it’s normal—the what-ifs. Wondering how everything would’ve panned out if you made different choices.”
“Do you think it would have broken us if I had told him?”
Her eyes meet mine as I seek out answers I know she can’t give me. There’s no way to predict that outcome, but she responds anyway. “Knowing where you’ve landed, would you have wanted it to work out?”
Her question gives me pause. I think about not having Micah in my life. I would’ve never have fallen in love with him if things had worked out between Kason and me. And to stand here, thinking about which outcome I would’ve chosen is an awful thing to do. To pick who I would toss away in order to have the other.
“I love Micah,” I defend.
“I know you do. I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s okay to still carry a little bit of affection for an old love. Just don’t get that confused with the ever-present love you have now for Micah,” she says. “Because that man is wonderful, and I know how deeply you love him.”
But this is what is tangling my heart, the fact that I’m wondering if the love I still feel for Kason is deeper.
“And I’m not saying that Kason isn’t just as wonderful, but you aren’t the girl he knew four years ago. He’s changed, too.”
“I’m not doubting anything,” I explain. “I believe in my choices, and I’m certain in my relationship with Micah.” I say the words even though there’s a silent whisper telling me they might not be entirely true. “It’s just awkward to be around him. I wish I could just break through this weird wall between us and get to know him again—as a friend,” I finish with a smirk.
She returns my smile. “Then do that. Why don’t I call him and invite him over to the house today?”
I give her a nod. “God, we haven’t done that in forever.”
“I’m sure he’d really like it.”
I lean into my mom, nudging my shoulder against hers, so very grateful that we can have these conversations. That through the years, we’ve only grown closer despite us living on opposite sides of the state.
“Come on,” she says. “Let’s finish our run.”
My mother called Kason to invite him over and asked him what he was in the mood to eat for dinner. He requested sushi from Jackson’s Bistro, and when he texted her a little while ago to let her know he was heading over, she left to go pick up the food. I’m now sitting here with jitters in my stomach, hoping she makes it back before he arrives. I’m anxious to be alone with him after what happened between us a couple of nights ago.
When I hear the door from the garage open, I sigh in relief. But before she makes it into the kitchen with all the food, the front door opens, followed by, “Hey, Cheryl.”
From the living room, I watch as Kason walks right into our house without a single knock. Obviously, he’s here enough that he’s comfortable just walking in.
“In the kitchen,” she responds while pulling our dinner out from the bags.
I catch his attention as he goes into the kitchen where my mother gives him a hug. When I join them, he finally greets, “Hey,” with apprehension.
“Hey.”
“Come on you two. Help me get everything on the table.”
It’s easy to tell that he’s unsure about all this, but I don’t know if his unsurety is of the same magnitude as mine. We settle at the dining room table, and where Kason used to always sit next to me, he now takes a seat next to my mom. Looking between the two of them, they seem effortless with each other as they pass the various selections of sushi back and forth before handing them my way.
The silence grows to an uncomfortable level as we start eating, and this is exactly what I wish would go away—the awkwardness. My mother looks my way, noticing that I’m the only one who hasn’t touched my food yet, and she’s quick to cut the tension, saying to Kason, “You wouldn’t believe what I did this morning. You’d be proud.”
“What’s that?”
“Ady convinced me to go running.”
He glances at me before turning to her. “And you actually did it?” he says, unconvinced.
“Is that so hard to believe?”
She takes a sip of her drink when he looks to me, and as if there were no tension between us at all, says, “Is she making this shit up?”
He’s able to get me to crack a smile, and before I pop a bite of sushi into my mouth, I defend my mom. “She ran all the way up and down Bayshore.”
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve tried to get her to run with me? The woman has a million excuses.”
“Throw me under the bus, why don’t you.”
He shoots her a knowing look. “Is this you admitting to your cop-outs?”
“I plead the fifth.”
“Typical,” he says, bringing his eyes back to me. “Your mom is a hard-ass, you know?”
He says this with a smirk, and somewhere in the banter, I forget the tension and the air thins out, making it easier for me to talk. “The woman raised me. Trust me, I know.”
“Wait a second. Is this you two ganging up on me?”
“I’m not taking sides here,” I contend and then shove another piece of sushi in my mouth.
“I thought you’d be proud of me.”
Kason’s face softens. “I am proud. Are you going to keep it up?”
She grins and picks up her chopsticks. “Probably not.”
“Figures.”
Now that the pressure of conversation has been lifted, I’m able to relax a little, and it reminds me of how it used to be with the three of us. So many times we’ve sat at this very table to share a meal. Birthdays and holidays—Kason was always here with me and my mom. And now, here we are, just like old times, except not. It may feel that way, but I know it isn’t that way.
Too much has shifted.
Too much has changed.
My mom then addresses Kason with, “Do you know when you’ll be able to set your class schedule?”
“Class schedule? I thought you graduated?”
“I did,” he says. “I’m starting law school in August.”
I stop mid-bite and lower my hand in astonishment for his accomplishment. I always knew his goals, and to see that he never gave up and that he actually made it happen—I’m so unbelievably proud of him.
“You got into law school?”
He gives me a nod, and I catch a glimpse of my mother’s smile from the corner of my eye.
“Kason . . .” My words fail me for a moment, but I pick them back up, continuing, “I can’t believe it. I mean, I can, because it’s you. I’m just . . .” It’s now that I feel the smile on my lips. “I’m impressed.”
The corner of his mouth lifts slightly, enough for me to see a flicker of pride in himself—pride that he is much deserving of.
“He also got a promotion at the firm.”
“Really?”
He shrugs. “I swear, working for your mother borders on nepotism with all the preferential treatment.”
“You’ve earned it,” she assures him.
“So what’s the promotion?”
“I’m now a senior legal analyst, but I’ll be dropping down to part-time when classes start to focus on school.”
My mother looks at Kason in admiration as he tells me this.
“What about you?” he then asks. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know just yet. I wound up getting my degree in advertising, but with the move coming up, I’m going to wait until everything settles down before looking for a job.”
“Why California?”
I take a sip of my iced tea, fretting to bring up Micah. But if Kason and I are going to get to know each other, mentioning my fiancé is inevitable. Setting my glass down, my tone is a little weak when I tell him, “It’s closer to most of Micah’s events. Plus, it’s where his agent is based out of.”
“What does he do?” he asks, his fingers gripping his chopsticks a little tighter.
“He’s a professional surfer,” I tell him without elaborating at all because I can see this is a sore spot for him. I slip past Micah and go back to me, quickly adding, “I was thinking about going into media work, though. Seems like the perfect location to do so with all the studios out there. But I’m not going to rush into anything just yet.”
We fall into conversation after that, talking about his goals of switching out of the defense side and over to the prosecution side. I ask questions, amazed by how far he’s come in his determination to make a better life for himself.
Time passes as we continue to talk, and I don’t even realize that my mother has long ago cleared the table until I look up and notice she’s in the kitchen, tossing the containers away.
“Mom, let me help you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she says, wagging her hand. “I’m just going to toss these plates into the dishwasher and send out a few emails before I head to bed. Do you mind?”
I look at Kason, but he avoids making contact with me as he picks the label of the bottle of beer he’s been drinking.
“No,” I respond. “That’s fine.”
When she finishes up, she says her goodnight to Kason before excusing herself, leaving the two of us alone. The moment she’s out of the room, our eyes finally lock. I wait for him to speak, and I’m sure he’s doing the same with me. It’s an unexplainable feeling to have him back in this house with me, so I go with that thought. “Why does this feel so weird?”
“Ever since you left, it’s felt weird.” He picks up the bottle and takes a sip. “Your mom never stopped inviting me over here for dinners,” he tells me. “At first, I didn’t want to come . . . it hurt too much knowing you wouldn’t be here. Then, one night, I showed up and we’ve made a habit of having dinner together at least once a week.”
“What made you change your mind?”
He brings the bottle to his lips again, hesitating before taking a sip, and when he does, I see the strain in his throat as he swallows before admitting, “You did.”
“Me?”
“It was a hopeful thought that maybe you’d randomly show up.”
The conversation teeters between us, and I don’t know what to say when he tells me this. A second later, my mom’s voice can be heard on a phone call, and in a way, it feels like an intrusion.
“You want to go out back?” Kason asks when he stands from the table, and I give him a nod and follow him out to the veranda.
He leads me down to the pool, and we both kick off our flip-flops before sitting along the edge and sinking our feet into the water.
Kason tilts his head and looks up into the night sky as I watch him. Though his eyes are the same, there’s so much new about him. His frame is more muscular than what it was, the way he styles his rich brown hair is different, and the stubble he wears on his face seems perpetual. He’s no longer the nineteen-year-old guy I last saw him as, and a part of me, an undeniable part of me, regrets missing the time in between the change.
And then my mind drifts to wonder what exactly happened to him during that time lost. I’m still shaken up after seeing him with those prostitutes the other night. Knowing that he’s drifting so far but not really knowing exactly how far scares me.
When he turns and looks at me, we deadlock on each other for a moment. I stare into his green eyes—eyes that still sometimes find me in my dreams. And like a knife digging through my chest, I think about all the horrible things they’ve seen.
“I’m worried about you.” Before I realize I’ve even spoken, the words are out of me. He doesn’t question me when I say this, and even though I always avoided this topic when we were younger, it doesn’t feel right to tiptoe around it any longer, so I ask, “Are you scared? Because I am.”
“Of what?”
“Of what I saw the other night.”
It was that same night that he said what I had always known in my gut but had been too scared to confront because I never wanted to upset him.
The second the thought crosses my mind, clarity reveals itself. This must’ve been exactly how he felt when he knew in his gut someone had hurt me. Both of us were terrified to acknowledge the one thing that haunted us the most, and we allowed those things to take power over our lives. But where he still suffers, I found help.
“Can we talk about this?”
He looks away from me, and I worry he’s shutting me out.
“Have you ever told anyone else?”
He shakes his head, and when he turns back to me there’s embarrassment in his features.
“Will you tell me how bad it is?”
There’s a moment of hesitation before he confesses, “It’s bad.” I slip my hand into his and hold it, but his grip is loose on me. With his eyes adrift, he surprises me when he begins to speak. “You were the only thing worthy of me trying to control myself for. When I lost you, I no longer saw a point in trying to fight myself, so I just . . . I gave up, and I gave in.”
Everything inside me sinks under the intense pressure of guilt, knowing that if I hadn’t left him, he might not have ever gotten to this point. But I did leave, and I was so wound up in my own mess that I never spent enough time thinking about what my absence would do to his addiction. Kason has always been needy. Not just for getting off, but also for affection. He clung to it—clung to me—as if he were starved. And he was, never getting the nurturing he needed from home.
I force myself to shove all that down for now because I want to focus on him and not all of the questions to which there are no answers for. Dwelling in my regret won’t hurt him, but his actions will, and that’s what worries me the most.
“Do you do that a lot?” I ask timidly. “You know, with girls like that?”
His expression pains, and his hand finally tightens around mine—trembling really. I wish I could vanquish the turmoil that must be roiling inside of him.
“I don’t want you to know this about me—the person I’ve become.”
“But I want to know. Just like you wanted to know about me. You wanted me to tell this horrifically ugly thing despite all my fears, right?”
He nods. “I did.”
“This is me asking you to give me what I couldn’t give you.”
Releasing a heavy breath, he wavers, and when I give his hand a reassuring squeeze, he opens up. “I do a lot of really fucked-up things like that. I’m not the same guy I was when we were together. And, yeah, I’m scared. I’m scared of a lot of things.”
“Are you safe? Because all I can think about is—” I choke on my words when I consider all the diseases and illnesses he could easily get. “I can’t stomach the thought of anything bad happening to you.”
He shifts and turns toward me, and when he takes my other hand in his, I pivot to face him as well when he stresses, “I’m safe. As safe as I can be, but I get tested, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
The ache in my heart for Kason grows, and he sees it when my chin begins to quiver out of my control. “I don’t want this for you.”
“I don’t, either,” he releases weakly. “But at the same time, I’m terrified to help myself.”
“Why?”
“Because I need it. Just like any addict would need their drug of choice I suppose.”
“You aren’t happy, though. I know you aren’t. You can’t be.”
“It’s the one thing that does make me happy. It’s the highest high imaginable,” he tells me.
“Followed by what?”
“Followed by the lowest low imaginable. So low I wonder sometimes if it has the power to kill me because it hurts so bad.”
I drop my head and blink back some of the most harrowing tears. To know this is how he feels is heartbreaking. When he first confessed this craving to me, I remember how much he feared it. He denied it—fervently. And now, here he is, completely defeated and accepting of what used to haunt him.
“You have to do something about this, Kason,” I tell him, nearly begging. “You just have to.”
“Why? For what?” He then lifts my chin, urging me to look at him. “For who?”
I want to say for me, but I can’t. I belong to another man. One thing I do know is that when I got help, I had to do it for me, so I answer him with, “Do it for you, Kason.”
“I’m not worth saving. If you only knew how sick and repulsive I’ve become, you’d—”
“Stop.”
“I’ve done disgusting things.”
“I don’t care.” I push back because I can’t stand him talking about himself this way. “That isn’t who you are.”
“It is.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“No?” he counters, pulling his hands from mine. “You think it’s that easy?”
“I never said it was going to be easy. It wasn’t easy for me to get help, either. I felt worthless, too. I felt like I didn’t have any control over the situation. But I found out that I did. And I fought.”
“You want me to fight?”
“Yes,” I plead, pitching my voice in urgency.
“And where do you fit into this? Or am I still on my own?”
I grab his hand back. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“For now. But you’re leaving, and the difference between you and me is that you have someone. I have nothing.”
“You have me, and I swear to you, that even though I’m moving, I will still be here for you in any way I can. I won’t turn away from you again.”
He draws back, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can.”
“Look at me,” I implore. “All I’m asking is that you think about it. That’s all. Because I know you. Deep down I think we both still know each other, and I’m certain there’s a piece of you that wishes you could be free of this. Am I right?”
Without having to think, he answers easily. “Yes.”
“Will you promise me you’ll consider talking to someone and getting help?”
After a beat of resistance, he nods. “I’ll think about it.”
Hearing those four words, in a way, feels like a victory. This whole conversation does. The fact that we’re actually talking to each other instead of hiding behind our own fears. If only we could have done this sooner, we could’ve avoided so much self-deprecation. Maybe it took all the misery we’ve endured to get us to this point, and even though it’s years late, I’m holding out hope that Kason can find it in himself to at least try to seek some sort of treatment. Whatever it may be.
“When did you become a hard-ass like your mom?”
I laugh under my breath and he breaks a smile. “Is she really as tough on you as you make it seem?”
“She’s brutal,” he teases.
“You’re delusional.”
The two of us chuckle lightly, and it’s crazy how we can jump from emotion to emotion with each other in a single night—in a timeless moment. I smile, and with a heart that beats a little easier, I tell him, “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Are you?”
I give him a nod, and when I do, a large bug flies into my face, startling me. Pinching my eyes closed, I blindly swat it away, the movement knocking me off balance and straight into the pool. Catching my breath, I wipe the water from my eyes to find Kason now standing, laughing at me.
“I see your fear of bugs hasn’t changed,” he jokes.
“That is so not funny.”
“If you could see yourself right now, you’d be laughing, too.”
I kick myself over to the wall and look up at Kason as he stares down at me. He’s wearing the biggest smile, and it’s just as beautiful as it used to be, setting off a swarm of something inside me, something that radiates through my bones. And when he offers me his hand to help me out of the pool, I grab ahold of it and jerk down, pulling him into the water with me.