Harper

The mind often wandered during the late hours of the night, and my mind wandered to places I rarely wanted to go. While many had endured worse, my past was one I didn’t quite enjoy. There had been an abundance of love in my childhood home regardless of the struggles that had followed. I’d had a small number of friends, but we’d been so close that we had felt like sisters. My days had been filled with beautiful bliss, childhood curiosity, and overwhelming opportunities. I adored my childhood, but it became something more bitter than sweet when I thought back to the time I’d spent with Lincoln.

When I was in the eighth grade, I met Lincoln Heatherton. He had been a year older than everyone else in my class, so people had assumed he had been held back. With raggedy clothes, unkempt hair, and a bad reputation, Lincoln had been the black sheep of our class. In the beginning of the school year, I had simply watched as people whispered about him as he passed and ignored him as he sat alone during lunch. Sometimes he came with a sandwich, but there were many times when he’d have nothing but a complimentary apple. Even as a child, I’d felt nothing but sympathy for that boy. I supposed I had talked about him enough at home, because my mom had encouraged me to reach out and befriend him.

It had taken a lot of nerve on my part. My little thirteen-year-old nerves had almost gotten the better of me, but then something amazing had happened. Lincoln looked up from the library book in front of him and our eyes met. For the first time in my life, I’d felt a connection with a being that wasn’t an animal. In that moment, I knew Lincoln was more than just the troubled outcast everyone else had made him out to be. On that day, I walked up to the sweet boy he had once been and introduced myself like a proper lady.

“I’m Harper,” I’d muttered shyly, almost as if I were a young doe who had encountered an intimidating yet fascinating fox for the first time.

Lincoln had looked up at me through his thick lashes. He had piercing gray-green eyes that had seemed to look me right in the soul. He had the eyes of a wise old man; it was as if he had seen everything life had to offer and wasn’t impressed. Yet when he’d looked at me, there had been a spark within him as well. I’d read the shock on his face despite his attempts to remain neutral. He was cautious, but interested. It was as if he were thinking to himself, “Who is this brave girl and why is she bothering me?”

Without uttering another word, I sat down next to him. I remembered the way the blush had burned on my cheeks when I’d settled far less delicately than the feather I’d been attempting to emulate. Instead, I sat down with a “thud,” and a small smile made its way onto Lincoln’s face for just a moment before he corrected himself. Looking back as an adult, I knew he had been trying to protect himself because so many people had hurt and humiliated him. Even back then, when I didn’t know why, it had broken my heart to see him so resistant to my presence.

“Are you hungry?” I had asked him. I’d laid out in front of me the lunch my parents had packed. They had been well off when I was a child, so I’d never lacked for anything. That day was so vividly etched into my mind that I even remembered what my mother had packed for me. There had been two of everything because my mom had wanted Lincoln well fed. Along with two apples and two juice boxes, there had been two sandwiches, both without the crust of course. Once I had unpacked, I slid his half over to him before beginning on mine.

The students who had made fun of him, including my friends at the time, watched in near silence as Lincoln and I sat there eating the packed lunch. I was shaking because I didn’t like the judgement in their eyes, but there was something comforting about having someone by my side as I defied those who tormented the innocent. Lincoln and I didn’t exchange a single word, but I listened as he tore into the food. There was no hesitation, and, for a moment, his guard was down. In that moment, I looked over at him and smiled a genuine smile. He caught my eye and a blush tinted his cheeks.

“Thank you,” he had muttered, his cheeks full of peanut butter, jelly, and homemade bread.

I had simply grinned at him in turn and swallowed my food before responding with a polite, “Tomorrow we’re having turkey and tomato.”

The next day, I kept my promise, and the day after as well. Eventually, we ate lunch together while conversing. Our talks ranged from everything from the free rodeo shows our parents took us to on Friday nights to our dreams of wanting to be pilots or horse trainers when we grew up. The innocent times were filled with just that—innocence. However, it wasn’t all pleasant. Eventually, my friends turned their backs on me and I was an outcast as well.

I would walk to class with my books against my chest only to have an older kid knock them to the floor. I was taunted by my peers and a game was started in which the players would detail my future with Lincoln. They said things like our children would be luckier than Lincoln because at least my parents would let us all live in the horse stables. They also said I was just as flea- and lice-infested as the Heatherton family and everyone should stay away from me. There were times when I would go to the bathroom and cry only to come out with my head held high because I didn’t want anyone to see me break.

Eventually, Lincoln began sticking up for me. As we got older, he gained a reputation for being the “bad boy.” He skipped class to go smoke out by the park, and he often caused trouble with students and teachers alike. He was a rough-and-tumble guy who only showed his softer side to me. When I was sixteen, we announced our love for one another. We showed our affection to the world and fearlessly faced those who opposed us together. While the students loathed us, our parents adored our relationship. I joined his family on weekends to watch Lincoln ride horses and bulls at the rodeo, and Lincoln spent his time after school on my family ranch. We were together for two years, and I had thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together. The last day I saw him, things had been perfect. He’d taken me for a long walk through the fields of my house, and we had stopped in front of the tree where we’d had our first kiss. On that day, he had promised he’d love me forever. That night, we made love for the first time under that tree, and then we cuddled under the stars, basking in our ever-present love. I fell asleep in his arms that night, and I woke up alone.

For the following week, I was in denial. I was certain he would show up eventually. He was probably in the next town over getting an engagement ring. Then a month passed and I was positive that he must have snuck off to get a job so he could afford to get us out of the stupid little town we lived in. After a year, I finally had to face reality. It had taken me a whole year to realize that he had left me behind, and then nearly two years after that to get over him. Three years had been wasted on me getting over that dumbass who had broken my heart, so I thought it was selfish and cruel that he would just show up out of nowhere and decide to insert himself into a space where he wasn’t welcome.

I could tell I was red-faced and fuming. The thought of him leaving me behind to pursue a life of luxury caused me to with bubble with rage. I couldn’t fathom why he wouldn’t want me to go with him, especially since our dreams had aligned so well. It was like the heavens had made us specifically for each other and we were destined for greatness as a couple. I could have been a billionaire with him. My family didn’t have to suffer. I didn’t have to get my heart broken. Life could have been good. We could have had a family together just like we’d talked about so often when we were younger. Three boys and a girl who would never feel fear because her brothers would kick ass before anyone messed with her.

He’d thrown that all away for money.

“He threw it all away for nothing!” I yelled out as I was brushing Lady. The beautiful horse in front of me was startled, and he stumbled away just a bit. With a heavy sigh, I tossed the brush I had been using to the side and walked out. I was practically shaking, and my vision began to blur. It took everything in my power to keep from crying. Too many tears had been wasted on a man who had obviously never loved me enough to deserve them.

I didn’t understand why I was so emotional after so long. It had been a decade. I hadn’t seen Lincoln in a decade, and before the passing of my parents I hadn’t thought of him in nearly a month. Yet there I was, beginning to sob like a child who had lost her parents in the middle of a busy grocery store. There was nothing graceful about how I was reacting, and it got worse the more I tried to stop it. The tears didn’t cease to flow and my anger grew the more they fell. In the heat of the moment, I decided to do something I had picked up to deal with my emotions after Lincoln left me. I kicked off my shoes and I just started running. I took off across the barn and through the bountiful land my family owned. I ran hard and fast, pushing myself past the point of thinking and feeling.

The wind hit my face hard and the tears dried against my cheeks. The world around me didn’t matter, just the abundance of land in front of me and my legs moving as fast as they could across it. I ran until I couldn’t run anymore. The air in my lungs was fleeting and my heart was pounding against my chest, but I didn’t stop. I moved hard and fast until my legs collapsed beneath me and I fell to the grass and dirt below me. Once there, I panted and cried to my heart’s content. No one could see me or hear me, so I allowed myself to be my most vulnerable. I cried like I hadn’t cried in a while. I cried over Lincoln’s betrayal more than I had cried after my father’s passing. At least I knew my father was in a better place; I had no closure with Lincoln.

He had broken me, betrayed me, and brutalized me. There was no forgiving a man who had promised me the world and then left me to conquer it on his own. All our dreams had gone down the toilet, and I was stuck accepting the pathetic life fate had in store for me all on my own. That was one of the reasons I’d chosen to go out of town for college. I didn’t need the reminder, yet he had decided to come and confront me all on his own. After crying it out, I stood up and made my way back to the house. As I walked, I silently vowed to never forgive him or allow myself to be vulnerable with him again. He didn’t deserve a second chance.