Aubrey
Staring ahead at the empty street, I nurse my coffee, eyes still heavy from disturbed sleep. I take comfort in the stillness, in the quiet. I’ve become comfortable in my own company over the last few months, feeling protected, living without expectations and finally coming to reconciliation within myself. Traveling alongside Dad gave me plenty of time to reflect on these past few years while in my own company. At first it was lonely, no more than my life had been living with David, but daunting to have to finally work through my own issues. Forgiveness was harder. Trying to accept that my actions may’ve been selfish and hurtful but never malicious. Inadvertently deceitful, sure, but I never intended to inflict any level of pain upon anyone. Not Dad. Not Annabelle. Not myself. But most importantly not Jake. It was an unrealistic hope, an idea that I’m fully aware was a fantasy. I spent a lot of the last few months in self-reflection and trying to understand why I chose the path I did. I let myself be controlled by a man and I still hate myself for that, but I’m working on it.
My dad was right, David did nothing after I left. His threats were as empty as his heart and I feel all the more stupid because of it. I should’ve known. I let my self-doubt magnify to the point that I couldn’t see straight. Dad grumbles about having to see him at work, but ever the professional, I know he’d be nothing but cordial. Dad’s coming close to his term-limit on the board, something else I knew nothing about. He’ll be resigning from there, wanting to be as far away from David as he can be. At first it made me sad, thinking his time at the company he’d spent his life helping to build was coming to an end. But he’s excited, livelier than I’ve seen him in years. Looking forward to a new chapter. I know he’s being headhunted, but he’s taking his time to consider all of his options.
Dad and I grew closer traveling together. I spoke a lot about Jake, about who he was to me and how he made me feel. The G-rated version of course. Think my conservative old man would’ve choked on his own breath if I’d let on about Jake’s choice of jewelry. My lips break in an immediate smile at the thought, and I drop my head, for no reason in particular, I’m alone, but the thought is private.
I spent so much of my time thinking of Jake, not only reminiscing about our time but wondering what he was up to, how he was doing. It would consume hours of my days at times and pushing that aside was hard.
The front door opens pulling me from my thoughts, and I smile up at Steve as he steps onto the porch. “Mornin’, shortcake, sleep okay?”
I shrug non-committedly, knowing my answer would be unnecessary; the dark circles under my eyes are enough to give away my lack of rest. “Headed to work?” I ask, my voice catching on the dryness in my throat.
Nodding his head, Steve drops a kiss on the top of my head, starting towards the stairs.
“Stevie,” I stop his descent, dropping my voice to a quiet whisper. “Can you not tell; you know I just need to sort my head out. I’ll—”
“Aubrey, sweetheart,” he coaxes. “I won’t say a word. You approach him when you’re ready. A word of advice though, it’s a small town, someone’s gonna notice you around soon, don’t let him think you’re avoidin’ him.” I give him a small smile, and he waves leaving me in my own company once again. I sit for a while longer.
My plan today is to see Darci, try to get an idea of the damage done with Annabelle before approaching that minefield. I wish I were confident and strong enough to go straight to Jake. To tell him how sorry I am, beg for his forgiveness. To tell him I love him, that it’s only him, that no other person means as much to me than he does. To plead with him to give me another chance. But the fear that I promised will no longer lead my life hasn’t fully eased away, and I need a little bit more courage. I need Annabelle. I need my best friend. I need her forgiveness and her weight in Jake’s emotions on my side.
Mom joins me outside, sitting close, head on my shoulder and I take reassurance in her presence. “It’ll be hard, bub, Jake’s a sensitive soul, takes a lot to mend a broken heart and even more to risk it again on someone who hurt you. I know this from experience.”
Mom and Steve were so relieved to see me when I arrived home. I’ve kept in contact, a few emails, texts and a scarce number of phone calls. We spoke well into the night. I thought Stevie was going to explode when I told them about David. Mom was more hurt that I hid it, rather than confiding in her. We discussed their relationship, the small resentment I held against them for dad. They were hurt, but because they’re the people they are, they got it. They understood my internal struggles and were more upset that I dealt with it alone for so long and let it have such a negative impact on my life these past years. Mom reinforced what Dad told me, that their marriage breakdown was mutual and that her heart always belonged to Steve. I appreciated their honesty and felt part of my soul heal with their understanding and support.
Sighing loudly, I agree wholeheartedly and that’s what scares me most.
“Aubrey, sweetheart, I know we discussed this with Steve, but I wanted to talk to you about it, just you and me.”
I knew this would happen, prepared myself for it. While my Mom is cool and will always work to understand my viewpoint, she likes to talk shit out. Has always been her way.
“I thought we were tight, bub. That if you were struggling with something, especially something that big, you’d talk to me. God, Aubrey. How did I not see that my baby girl was living with a monster?”
“Mom,” I soothe. “It wasn’t that bad. Promise. David was unfeeling, but he wasn’t abusive.”
“He blackmailed you into a relationship.”
I close my eyes in regret. “Mom. I promise you, I’m fine and I’m sorry for not coming to you. I was a little lost in my own head.”
“I don’t want you to be sorry, Aubrey. I just want you to trust me enough to talk to me.”
“I do, I thought I did.” Shaking my head, I growl at the empty street. “I think I was such a mess inside, I don’t actually know what I what I would’ve come to you with.”
“You know,” she smiles, a soft laugh breaking through her lips. “Everyone tells me you’re like me, but, that brain of yours, you’re so much like Joseph. So set, determined to carry through on your path. It’s not a bad thing, by any means, just infuriating at times.”
I stare at her profile until she meets my eyes. “I wish you’d told me things like that more, that I’m like him, maybe I would’ve felt easier in life knowing I gave him something for him to know that he’s my dad, that I love him.”
“Why do you victimize him so hard?”
I frown at her question, considering that she’s right, all my life, I’ve oppressed him as a person, in my mind anyway. Made him weak, viewed him as forceless without even realizing I’d done so.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly, my voice full of puzzlement. “You don’t think he knows I’ve seen him that way?”
She shrugs. “Joseph isn’t exactly observant, Aubrey, unless it’s about work and you’ve done a good job at hiding it from us all.”
I keep staring at her profile, waiting for her to give me her full attention. She turns slowly, watching me carefully.
“Why didn’t you tell me about you and Dad, about you and Steve? The real story. Why did you let me hear only gossip and make me form my own assumptions?”
She looks guilty, and I want to take back the accusation in my question when her eyes fill with tears. “You never asked, and you put up a pretty strong façade, sweet girl. I thought you were good with our family dynamic. I’m sorry, I should’ve been a more clued in.”
“I guess we’ve both made mistakes. Reckon I’m good with moving on if you are?”
“Reckon I could manage that for you, daughter.”
I laugh, dropping my head to her shoulder and linking my arm through hers, wanting to feel closer.
“Have you seen Annabelle around?” I test.
“I’ve seen her around, but we haven’t spoken. I think she’s a little unsure of how to deal with the situation. While it's not in her face, I think she’s working at avoiding it - until that tactic becomes impossible.”
My shoulders deflate with disappointment, hoping that Mom had more insight on how to tackle a friendship breakdown. “What if she can’t find a way to forgive me?” I stutter around the emotion stuck in my throat.
Pulling my shoulders in for a hug, she rubs her hand up and down my back to settle the cries breaking from my throat. I’ve done nothing but cry since I arrived and it feels somewhat freeing, finally ridding the bottled-up grief living inside. “I hate to say it, bub, but apart from Archer, Jake’s Annabelle’s number one and you hurt him. She’ll feel deceived, she’ll feel wronged, and there’s a strong possibility that she’s gonna take a bit of time to come around.”
I appreciate her honesty. Her ability to show her complete support even when delivering a blow. I hug her tightly, and she lets me cry, soothing me through forehead kisses and quiet hugs. My nose is running, my eyes feel puffy, and my skin feels dry from the salty track of tears gliding along my skin when I eventually calm down.
"Do you think he'll forgive me even if she doesn't?"
I wait patiently as Mom thinks about my question. "I don't think I can answer that, you know Jake better than I do… obviously," she winks down at me and I snort out a laugh.
"Let's hope so, or that's a whole lotta drama I am not equipped to deal with," I retort, and she squeezes my arm affectionately in amusement.
"Bub, you can go over every possible scenario in that overworked mind of yours, and none of them could happen. I hope that if his love for you is strong enough, it shouldn't matter what anyone else thinks, Annabelle included. But, I don't know. I wish I did, but I don't know what's gonna happen any more than you do." She looks down at me, her lips twisting at the side in a sympathetic half-smile and I return it, dropping my head to her shoulder and settling back into silence.
Showered and dressed I borrow Mom's car and drive to Darci's apartment. I texted her this morning to let her know my plans, and she replied with a wide smiling face and thumbs up emoji so at least I know she's happy to see me. I borrowed Mom's car for the sole purpose of trying to remain inconspicuous for as long as I can.
Jogging up the stairs to her apartment, I move fast, paranoid at being spotted.
I greet Darci with a hard hug, taking comfort in her soft frame. The hug lasts longer than necessary but having her reciprocate my show of affection is too much for me to let go of and she goes with it, as is Darci's way. After a few quiet minutes, I finally recede from our embrace, smiling gratefully at her welcoming face.
"I'm so glad you’re home, Aubrey," she gushes, squeezing my hand to encourage the sincerity of her words. "Was that Clarah's car I saw you driving?" she questions, moving into the small kitchen to pour us both coffee. She adds cream and sugar to her own but slides mine across black, and I smile my thanks, nodding at her question.
A dark eyebrow arches over her thick-rimmed glasses, waiting for me to explain and move to sit in the living room. "Just trying to lay low for a bit, when I face… when I see Annabelle and Jake, I want to be ready," I finish quietly, and she nods her head in understanding.
Darci's amber colored eyes watch me, scanning over my face to take me in.
"What's the verdict?" I ask with a smile, moving my mug to my lips and relish the bitter taste that warms my throat.
"You seem… freer, lighter, in the figurative sense. But you're sad, scared and still a little lost," she answers honestly, and I want to reach out and hug her. She has such a warmth about her, her words, while frank, were still spoken with a fierce concern.
"What have you been up to all these months? I've been worried," she confesses, and I feel awful about the detachment I forced with some of the people I love most.
"I'm sorry," I admit. "I've been traveling with my dad, just to a few different states while he worked. I spent the time soul-searching and working through the knotted mess inside my heart and head."
"What about…" she starts, trailing off into quiet, unsure as to whether she should finish her question.
"David?" I prompt, and she nods her head once.
"After that night, he reprimanded me like a child," I laugh without humor, placing my empty mug on the table before tugging my knees underneath my body and edging further into the couch. "I actually don't think he cared that I'd let someone else fuck me," I confess, the bewilderment of my revelation no doubt clear on my face. "He was infuriated that I had embarrassed him, with a boy no less."
Darci's eyes blink slowly in sympathy and dropping her own mug to the table she moves to mirror my position on the couch.
"We headed back to Bellingham that night, and he announced that we should get married," I smile with fake enthusiasm, and the shock in Darci's face is similar to how I imagined I, myself, looked when David dropped that bombshell.
I give her a moment to gather herself and watch her almond shaped eyes blink widely before she moves her hand to push up her glasses in a nervous gesture. "I… wh-what… I…" she stutters, bringing a genuine laugh from my lips.
"That was pretty much my response. The next day Jake showed, declared his love, I was a horrible fucking bitch, said some truly disgusting things that were so far from the truth I didn't even begin to understand the person I was anymore. He left, obviously, and I packed my things and went to Dad's," I conclude my story, and I watch a mixture of emotions skate over Darci's face.
Relief, I guess for me not having said yes to David and probably, likely (and accurately) concluding that, that relationship is now done.
Disappointment, for no doubt shutting Jake down and out the way I had. This emotion is unnecessary, my body is filled to capacity with my own disappointment, I really don't need anymore.
Sadness. This would be solely for my purpose. Sad that I'm sad and I can understand that.
Hope. Darci has always had an ever-enduring faith that we'll all find our happily ever after and she apparently feels I'm on my way to mine.
Hope is not something I can become fixated on. Reality. Possibility. That's it. My outlook has to be completely un-romanticized in case it all comes crashing down. Hope is too great of a risk for my heart right now.
I don’t tell her about David’s blackmail, about the real reason I stayed. I’m ashamed. I’m still working it through in my head and I don’t deserve her sympathy. I’m not a victim. I don’t want forgiveness based on pity. I want it to be because I earned it, because I made it right.
"Darci, talk to me about Annabelle," I ask quietly, and she begins massaging the middle her glasses into her face, her distress clear. "Darci," I urge, reaching out to touch her hand. "I know this is hard for you and believe me when I tell you I'm trying to make it right. I will try with everything inside of me to fix whatever is broken with Annabelle. I just need your help," I implore, entwining my fingers with hers and clasping tightly.
"In all honesty, we haven't spoken about it a whole lot," she pales, hating having to be the in-between for mine and Annabelle's breakdown. "She's mad. You know Annabelle, she's taking it more personally than she probably should, but in saying that, she's rightfully hurt. Jake's important to her, and you caused him a lot of pain, Aubrey." She must see my flinch because she squeezes my hand reassuringly. "I don't say that to cause you any pain or guilt. It's the truth. Pure and simple. Annabelle feels betrayed, and she's being pig-headed and unmoving on the subject. Believe me when I tell you that Archer and I have been trying to quell the fire inside of her, but it's not working. She's mad, Aubrey. Really, really mad."
I swallow against the bile rising in my stomach. It’s difficult to do around the tightness in my throat. Tears immediately spring to my eyes, and I tip my head to the ceiling, trying to force the water brimming in my sockets to dissipate. I knew this would be the position I’d placed myself in, but hearing that her anger hasn’t eased over the last few months is still difficult to swallow.
“Archer’s helping?” I query, dropping my eyes back to Darci, irritated that water once again dampens my face. Using the palms of my hand, I dab at my face, removing the moisture.
“He seems to think that whatever happened, was between you and Jake, nobody else. He thinks she’s being selfish, focusing on herself when in reality, it has nothing to do with her,” she reveals, and I breathe a sigh of relief at the belief in the words she speaks. While she’ll never outwardly take sides, her tone has told me she agrees with Archer, and the constricting pressure around my heart eases slightly.
“Plus I think he still holds a soft spot for you after you stopped Annabelle from running that last time,” she adds as a final thought, and I smile.
We sit in companionable silence for a few minutes as I digest Darci’s words, racking my brain for some kind of plan on how I can right this with Annabelle.
“Distract me. Tell me about you, any action with Lord Hotness?” I smile widely, and Darci shakes her head around a laugh.
“I assume you are referring to Bennett?”
“That would be correct. Please tell me while we’ve all been marinating in melancholy, you and Bennett have been fucking like crazy,” I push with optimism.
Pink shades Darci’s cheeks as she drops her eyes, picking imaginary lint from her leggings. “No, that has definitely not been happening. We’ve barely spoken,” she admits regretfully. “I thought I was the expert in avoidance, but I think Bennett’s actually got me covered,” she shares, eyes searching mine for some form of guidance.
“Oh. I’m sorry, Darc,” I say, moving across the couch to pull her into a hug.
She returns my embrace, sighing loudly. “Maybe it’s for the best, it was ridiculous for me to even consider us a possibility,” she concedes, shocking me from our position.
“Excuse me?” I ask incredulously.
Rolling her eyes beneath her glasses, she moves to stand, collecting our mugs and walking towards the kitchen. “Aubrey,” she complains around a breath.
“No. I won’t stand for this shit anymore. You are fucking amazing, Darci Walker, and Bennett James would have to thank his goddamn lucky stars that he would ever be able to have you. Yeah, Bennett’s hot, really fucking hot, but so are you. For some really warped reason you don’t believe us when we tell you but Jesus, Darci, you’re beautiful. But looks aside, you are the sweetest, most loyal, most caring person I have ever known. Bennett would be punching above his weight scoring someone as amazing as Darci Walker,” I beseech, my voice had risen with my need to get her to understand.
“Thank you,” she smiles softly, her hands automatically fixing her glasses in timidity.
“Why don’t you think he wants you? Honestly,” I challenge, skepticism clear in my tone.
Darci’s mouth opens a few times, but words struggle to form. I wait patiently, wanting her to actually start sorting through this shit storm in her head. “You know, today was supposed to be about you,” she grumbles, and I arch a single eyebrow in impatience.
Blowing out a long breath, her almond-shaped eyes roll once again, and she leans back against the kitchen counter, hands twisting in agitated energy. “When I’m with Bennett, like with him,” she meets my eyes, trying to convey her meaning.
“When you fuck?” I interpret, and her cheeks turn an adorable shade of red as she nods.
“Well, when we’re together like that, I feel different. My nerves completely dissipate, and it’s just he and I, and, it’s… amazing, Aubrey,” she breathes, the dreaminess in her voice enviable. “When I see him unexpectedly though, I’m a bumbling mess. I go bright freakin’ red and make a fool out of myself,” she groans.
“Darc, babe, Bennett’s known you for a while now, and you’ve gone at it more than a few times. Have you ever considered the possibility that he likes both versions of you? You’re sweet, Darc, I’d bet anything that he loves the fumbling you. Probably makes him feel better about himself knowing that he makes you nervous. Probably strokes his over-inflated ego.” I smile widely, and she returns it with a laugh.
“Well, he’s avoiding me now, so I guess it doesn’t really matter,” she counters, and I move towards her, bracing an arm around her neck as she drops her head to my shoulder.
“My guess, he’s playing fire with fire, stop avoiding him, babe, and he’ll stop too. Guarantee it,” I say confidently, and she groans at my declaration.
“I wish I had your confidence,” she yearns, and I laugh sarcastically.
“Babes, right now, trust me when I tell you, you don’t want to be me,” I insist, and she giggles at the utter disdain in my voice. It takes me a second, but I join her, laughing at how two educated, grown-ass women could possibly be so twisted up inside by men.
The rest of my week passes in quiet, a lot of it spent alone. I spend time with Darci, our conversations steer away from the drama in our life and we talk about her work, The Coffee House, my travels, the photos I’ve taken. She watches me expectantly every time I see her, hoping that I’ve made the step to fix what’s broken with Annabelle. I know she hates this divide and having to keep our catch-ups a secret. I feel guilty for putting her in that position, but I have a plan. A plan that involves finding courage where I’m not exactly sure it can be found.
My backbone is weak, frail under the weight of the outcome that can result from future confrontations. I’m not completely deluded or planning on avoiding forever. I have a cut-off. A week. Just one more week of settling everything in my head. It’s not that I haven’t tried. I have. Every day. Every morning I wake with a renewed sense of focus, and I work myself up enough to get into my car and drive. My newfound focus always wanes on the drive, my palms become clammy as my heart begins beating up into my throat and I start shaking. I feel a crashing wave of relief every time I pull into his street, and his car isn’t parked outside Janie’s. My heart rights itself at his absence, and I leave the street as quickly as I arrived, not giving Annabelle’s a second glance. With each day of his absence though, my relief is quickly replaced with rising panic. He’s never there; not in the mornings, throughout the days or late into the evening. I’ve checked every possible time of day and Jake seems to have disappeared. I know he’s still in town. Steve would have told me otherwise. But his lack of presence at home is concerning.
Is he spending his time with someone else? The thought has me reeling, and I know I have no right to feel upset or mad. But even though I have no right, I’m fucking mad. He said his heart belonged to me, if that was true how could he so easily replace me?
My panic begins to consume me until I can’t take it any longer and as risky as it is, I drive to the shop. Within moments of arriving, I feel myself take my first full breath because his blue charger is there, backed into his usual spot in the lot. While I still don't know where he's spending his time, that small visibility of something that he owns, something that was so totally and perfectly Jake, eases the pain in my heart. I can’t see him, not from where I’d parked across the street, but moving closer isn’t an option because as much as I’m dying to see him, even just a glimpse, his workplace isn’t the place for him to see me. I can’t open our heartbreak up to his friends and colleagues. It wouldn’t be fair.
So I'd given myself a week. One more week, before I grow the fuck up and finally face the mistakes I've made with Jake.
Seven more days of creeping around town hoping no one sees me.
Seven more days of living in mindless panic and nervousness about the possibility of life.
Seven more days of driving past Janie's house to see if Jake has come home.
Seven more days of making sure his car is parked at the shop if I can't see his car at Janie's.
Seven more days. Where I can work shit out with Annabelle.
"Shortcake, that you?" Steve bellows from somewhere in the house.
"Yeah, Stevie, it's me," I answer, dropping my bag inside the door and dragging my feet towards the kitchen and the sound of his voice.
"Beer?" he offers, and I grimace at the thought.
"Something stronger please," I sigh, dropping onto a bar stool.
"Tequila coming up," he smiles turning towards the pantry to locate my beverage of choice.
I watch him pour my drink in silence, finding so much comfort in his company.
"Saw your car at work today," he tests, sliding my glass towards me.
Sitting up straight my eyes go wide, and I swallow deeply. "Did Jake see me?" I rush out, panicked at the thought.
"Was working underneath a car most of the day so unlikely. Seen you there a bit over the last few days, wanna tell me what you're playin' at?" he asks, taking a deep pull from his beer.
Twisting my glass in circles on the counter I watch the water expand along the marble tops. "I just needed reassurance he was still around. I went to see him the other day, chickened out well before I arrived, but his car wasn't at home anyway. Been there every day since, mornings, afternoons, some nights, but he's never there. I just… is he seeing someone else?" I ask the small pool of water, using my finger to move it around the bench.
"You been goin' to Janie's?" he asks, and I give a slight nod of my head, eyes still trained downward.
"Shortcake, look at me," he urges, and I look up through my lashes. "Jake moved out," he smiles. "He's livin' in one of the apartments he owns across town."
"What?!" I sit up straighter, my full focus on Steve's face. "Where Archer was living awhile back?"
"Yeah, Aubrey, he moved in a little over a month ago. Could’a just asked me, Shortcake, instead of lurking around town," he laughs, head shaking side-to-side.
Sighing loudly, he places his bottle on the bench, arms crossing over his chest. "Look, kid’s been givin' some pretty intense, moody eyes lately. Watchin' every move I make, comin' closer whenever I'm on the phone. If I were a betting man, I'd say he knows you're back. Now, I don't know how he knows, I sure as shit haven't said anything, but I also don't like keepin' it from him. I like him like he's my own, so I'm tellin' ya now, he asks, which he's gettin' close to doin', I'm not gonna lie, sweetheart."
Closing my eyes, I nod in understanding.
"Aubrey, sweetheart," Steve coaxes, making my eyes open. "I love you, with all my heart. Truth is, to the world it looks like you fucked up. Big. You hurt some people in the process and that ain't just gonna go away with you hidin' out, pretendin' you need more time. You've had enough time. You're never gonna fully forgive yourself or have a chance at the life you want unless you move forward. Go to Annabelle. Go to Jake. Will they forgive you? Sweetheart, I do not know. But you're never gonna forgive you unless you try and I sure as shit want my Aubrey back."
Moving towards me he plants a kiss on the top of my head before tipping my chin up so I can meet his eyes. "Do me a favor, find her for me. I miss her." He winks before sauntering from the room.