Light from around the blinds wakes me, and I turn to see her red hair on the pillow next to me. Her breathing sounds slow and even, and I try not to move. I want to wrap my arms around her and pull her into me but am not sure whether she’d want to be awoken. I note the time. Five after nine. I can’t remember the last time I slept past nine. But seeing as how we were up past two, I should be thinking about more sleep. Now that my train of thought switches to the previous night, there’s no way I will drift off.
She stirs and turns to face me. I stare at her face. Her lashes rest on her cheek like soft red feathers. Her skin is so white, and freckles dot her nose like pink rose petals. I wonder if I’ve ever seen someone more beautiful.
The corners of her mouth turn up. “Do you always stalk people while they sleep?”
“How did you know I was awake?”
“Can’t you tell when someone is staring at you?”
“But you’re so beautiful.” I kiss her nose.
Snuggling into my chest, she looks up at me. “I don’t want to leave this apartment, much less get out of bed.”
“So, you’re not cooking for everyone today?”
She shakes her head. “Definitely not. I’m not sharing you with anyone.”
“I’m going to have to eat soon.”
“Me too.” She pushes up on her elbows and turns her facet to look at me. “Coffee then pancakes?”
“Sounds awesome to me.” I swing my legs over the bed and slide on a t-shirt.
After breakfast, we go for a run and take showers. We hang out, watch the parade and a football game, go to the grocery store, and make dinner. Before we know it, it’s dark again.
“I don’t want it to be a work day.” Liz takes my hand and pulls at my arm.
“Me either.” I smooth her hair down her back.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night?” she asks, pushing up on her toes and kissing me.
Our days and weeks flow one into another. We see each other almost every day, whether hiking with the group, meeting up for biking or volleyball, hanging out with friends, making dinner, or catching a movie. Most nights she is at my place or me at hers. As the start of spring training approaches, I start to worry about our time apart. I know I’m in love and pray my schedule doesn’t ruin us.
“I don’t understand why you can’t tell me where we’re going,” Liz complains as she throws clothes into her bag, packing for our Valentine’s getaway.
“I told you, you need a nice dress, bathing suit, hiking clothes, and that’s it. One night and a day adventure, that’s all.” I spread out on her bed as she rummages through her closet.
“You have to leave for me to pick out a dress then.”
“Fine.” I trudge into the living room.
It’s not two minutes before she exits, roller and garment bag in hand. “Okay, I’m good.”
“Sweet.” I jump up off the couch and take her bag.
“How far is it?” she asks as we descend the stairs to the parking lot.
“Not far.”
“I don’t understand why it has to be a secret.”
“Not a secret, a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises.” She puts her hand to her hip as we reach the car.
I roll my eyes and lift her bag into the back. “That’s not what you told me before.” Opening the door for her, I kiss her lips.
She climbs in her seat and spins to face me. “I didn’t tell my mom. Of course, I didn’t tell her I slept with you either. I’m sure I’d get a speech about co-habitation.”
“Co-habitation?” I wind around the vehicle and slide into the driver’s side.
“That’s what she called it when she found out Marie spent the night with her boyfriend for the first time.”
“Hmm, technical.” I crank the truck and back out. “You should be lucky I didn’t blindfold you.”
“Yeah, I think I’d hurl in your floorboard.”
“No puke in my vehicle,” I say and then take the ramp onto the freeway.
“You said it wasn’t far.”
“It’s not. So impatient.” I squeeze her hand and smile at her.
It’s only one exit up, and I really didn’t even need to get on the highway, but I wanted to throw her off. At the next street, I take a left and then approach the entrance, slowing and turning onto the palm-tree-lined drive.
“This is where we’re going?”
“Yes, you like?”
“Isn’t it, like, crazy expensive?”
“I got the team rate.”
“When did you plan this?”
“Like six weeks ago.” I slow the truck and pull into the visitor’s spot. “They have two huge pools. We have reservations on the patio for dinner and a private suite with a balcony view of their grounds. Tomorrow we can go for a hike, or whatever you want.”
“This looks like paradise.” She pushes her door open.
I meet her at the back of the truck. “So, you approve?”
“Oh, yes.”
Leaning in, I kiss her. “Good.”
We walk to the lobby and get our room key and then move the car and roll our luggage inside. A valet takes Liz’s and escorts us to our suite. Inside, a table holds an iced bottle of champagne and a bowl of strawberries. Roses sit on the far table near the window.
“I can’t believe this. It’s amazing. I’m speechless.” Liz opens the door to the balcony and steps outside. “Marie is going to have a heart attack when I tell her.”
“Our dinner reservations are at seven, and we have a gondola reserved for nine.”
“A gondola?”
“Yes, you rent a boat and row along the stream.” I point to the canal ringing the small forest area around the hotel. “What do you want to do first? The pools are heated.”
“Yay! Let’s swim.” Liz skips to the bedroom and pulls her suitcase into the bathroom. “I can’t believe this.” She pokes her head out. “This place is bigger than my bedroom.”
Inside the bathroom, there is a hot tub and a glass-lined shower. “I could stay in that tub all evening.” I wrap an arm around her waist.
She squirms out of my embrace. “Let’s go swim.”
We play in the pool and then relax in the hot tub until we’re cooking. Upstairs, I shower and then watch television while she washes and dresses.
“Do you think this is fancy enough?” She exits the bathroom in a slim black dress.
“Oh, that is perfect.” I pull her to me. “You look amazing.” I lean in to kiss her, but she pushes me away. “Don’t smudge the makeup before the appetizers.”
“Let’s have some champagne.” I pick up the bottle. I pop the cork and pour us each a glass. “To us.” I ding my glass with hers.
“To us.” She smiles and sips the bubbly liquid.
“That is really good. Shall we?” I motion to the balcony.
She sits on my lap and we drink our champagne, watching the sun dip below the mountains. My watch beeps, indicating it’s time for our reservation. They have a table waiting for us at the end of the pool deck. As the sky darkens, small lights draping the trees twinkle on.
“This is like a dream world.” Liz’s eyes scan the scene.
“I wanted tonight to be special.”
“You probably spent too much.”
“You can’t put a price tag on things like this.”
“I guess not.” She smiles.
We order an appetizer and then the main course. Deciding to have dessert later, we leave the table and walk through the gardens. My phone beeps.
“What’s that?”
“Time for part two of this magical night.”
I take her hand and lead her to the boat dock. The attendant has a gondola waiting for us. I help Liz into the bow, and I sit across from her. Trees create a canopy of the canal, and I paddle through the maze.
“How did you even know about these boats?”
“Carlos hooked me up.”
“Of course.” She rolls her eyes.
Laying the oar in the bottom of the boat, I cross to sit beside her. I wrap my arms around her. “Are you cold?”
“A little.” She snuggles against me.
“Not quite like the Colorado winding through the canyon.”
“I can picture it.” She smiles and turns to face me. “This is really cool.”
Releasing her, I find her hands and look into her eyes. “I know the next eight months might be crazy. But I’m committed to this relationship.”
“Thanks, that means a lot. I really like us, what we have. I’m going to miss seeing you all the time.”
I look at my lap and back at her face. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”
“Is that so?” A grin forms on her face.
“Yes, actually, I know. I love you.”
“Wow,” she whispers. Water pools in her eyes. “No one has ever told me that before.” She squeezes my hands. “I’m one-hundred percent sure I’m falling in love with you too.”
“You had me sweating there for a second.”
“Sorry, I didn’t expect something like this.”
“I want you to make sure you know you’re important to me, and I’m committed to you.”
“I can tell.”
“Good.” I release the breath I’m holding.
She places her hands on each side of my face. “You’re really special to me too. I wouldn’t have decided to be so intimate with you if you weren’t.”
“I wanted to say it, to tell you out loud. So there wasn’t any guessing.”
“Thank you.” She kisses me.
I wrap my hand around her neck and press my lips to hers. Lapping sounds on the water bring me out of the moment. Another boat approaches.
Liz clears her throat. “I think our time’s up.”
“I think you’re right.”
Switching back to my seat, I find the oar below my legs. We weave through the canal, taking in the night air and star-filled sky. At the dock, we exit and take our time on the path back to the hotel.
“Do you want to get dessert down here or order something?” I ask as we ascend the stairs.
“I’m good for now.”
Taking the escalator to our floor, we trace back to the room.
“What now?” She spins as she lays her bag on the table.
“Dancing?”
“Dancing would be nice.”
I find music on the television and take her in my arms. We dance to a few songs, and then I lead her out to the balcony. She sits on my lap, cuddling into my chest.
Kissing her temple, I wrap my arms around her. “I don’t want to leave tomorrow.”
“It’s not like you’re far.”
“I’m anxious about the schedule.”
“You’ll get there and figure it out.”
“Yeah, I know. I don’t like the unknown.”
She lays her head on my shoulder. “Would you mind if I changed? Got out of this dress?”
“Not at all.”
She stands and points to her zipper. “I can get this, but it takes some major contortions.”
I jump up and start it for her, wrapping my arm around her middle and kissing her neck.
Prying my hand from her waist, she kisses my cheek. “Give me a minute.”
Walking inside, she heads into the bathroom, and I find a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. My stomach gurgles, and I flip through the room service menu. Jumping up, I knock on the bathroom door and turn the knob before she has a chance to answer. “Hey, do you want—”
A towel is fitted around her torso. In the middle of her chest between her breasts is a vertical jagged pink scar. One hand goes to her towel, and the other palm juts out to me. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Sorry.” I shake my head trying to remember what I was going to ask her. “Do you want something to eat?”
Spinning so her back is to me, she looks over her shoulder. “Whatever you want is fine. You know what I like.”
Confused, I close the door and head back to the bed. I sit down and let the menu fall to my lap. There’s only one way to get the scar I saw. Is that why she didn’t want to take her shirt off with me? Her chest is sensitive from the scar? Or she didn’t want me to see the scar? I don’t want to jump to conclusions. Maybe the skin in that area does feel weird. I rub my inner thigh where I got my hockey injury. I guess it feels different, but still, why wouldn’t she tell me? It’s not like me knowing she’d had open heart surgery would make me look at her any differently. But it explains why she’s conscious of her heart rate. I stand up and pace to the door.
“Hey.” She appears before me in a pair of shorts and hoodie. The jacket is unzipped to halfway down her chest, and a layer of lace is visible underneath. “Did you order some food?”
I lift the menu and lower it. “No.”
“Why not? Something wrong?”
“I saw your scar. Why wouldn’t you tell me about having a surgery like that?” I scoot back on the bed, giving her space to sit down.
She reaches out and rubs her hand down my arm. “You’re mad?”
“I’m confused.” I take both her hands. “Why was it a secret? I mean we got through that whole thing with your parents and Luis and Elizabeth.” Standing, I run my hands through my hair, trying to figure out my swirling emotions that vacillate between anger, fear, and hurt.
“You wouldn’t understand.” She tugs at my shirt.
I bend over and grab my suitcase. “Maybe you should try me before you make that judgment.” Spinning, I head to the door, grabbing my phone and keys from the table as I pass.
She trails me and her hands wrap around my arms, halting my escape. “Please stay. Let me explain.”
Dropping the bag on the floor, I spin to face her. “I love you. I’ve been in love with you since November. We’ve been to San Diego and Chicago together. I made sure you were okay with my job choice. You decided I was important enough to share your bed. Why keep this from me?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t tell people.”
“You don’t tell people? I’m not just people. You weren’t lying about me being the first guy you slept with, were you?”
“No.” She grabs my hand. “Please, come sit down. I’ll tell you everything.”
“I’m not sure if there’s anything you can say to make this better.”
“Please.” Tears fill her eyes. “I love you. I don’t want to lose you.”
Deciding I trust that she cares about me, I take a seat at the table.
She sits across from me. Looking at her hands, she raises her eyes to meet mine. “I’ll start from the beginning.”
“Please.” My tone is harsher than I intend, but I don’t regret it.
She clears her throat. “When we were in the accident, they discovered that I had a valve deformation. Before that, I remember being tired for weeks, and my mom kept taking me to the doctor. He always said nothing was wrong, that I had a heart murmur and would probably grow out of it. In Ireland, before I came to the States to be with my aunt and uncle, they gave me a calf’s valve. Because my heart was still growing, it would have to be replaced anyway, and they didn’t want put me on blood thinners.”
I place my hands on the table. “But they only last ten years.”
“Right.” She swallows hard. “They were waiting for my heart to grow to full size and me to get older to decide which type of valve I wanted. At sixteen, they repeated the surgery, and I got an artificial valve.”
“So, you take blood thinners and watch your heart rate?”
“Right.” Her eyes meet mine for a second.
“You think I care about a scar? That you had heart surgery? You’ve seen the scar on my leg. It’s not pretty.”
“It’s not only that.” She stands and paces to the bed. “Last year, I was dating this guy, Chad. We dated for six months, and I finally decided to be intimate with him. He freaked out when he saw my scar, like really freaked out, said he couldn’t do it, that it grossed him out too much.”
“So, he’s an idiot!”
“A girl doesn’t forget something like that. When I was young, I would wear tops and bathing suits like other girls, people stared. So, I stopped wearing clothes that revealed my scar. It’s too hard to talk about every time someone comments on it. And then to have someone I loved be so disgusted.”
“And that’s why you never talked about your ex-boyfriends? When were you planning to tell me?”
“I don’t know.” Tears stream down her cheeks. “Please.” She grabs my hands. “Can’t you even grasp how traumatizing that was? On the canyon trip, Josie accidentally saw my scar in the bath house. I overheard her telling Sam how freaky it was. She said that if I showed you then you would like me because I was the ugly duckling.”
“Josie? This is about something Josie said?”
“Do you even get how much that hurt? I’ve been the girl who lost her parents and had open heart surgery twice. I didn’t want to be that girl anymore.”
“But with me?” I lower my head to my hands. “I’m not sure I can understand why you wouldn’t tell me.” I push off the table to a standing position. “I have to get out of here.”
“No.” She grabs my wrist. “Just stay. Tomorrow we can drive up to the canyon. Go for a hike. Talk more.”
“I’m feeling like you don’t trust me, and I can’t trust you. I don’t want that kind of relationship.”
“Please.” She tugs at my arms. “Just stay. I do love you. I’m trying to be different. Get over this. It’s really hard for me.”
I stand there frozen wondering what to do for a solid minute. My heart feels like it’s been smashed in two. This girl I’ve been sharing everything with has this huge part of her that she hasn’t been willing to open up to me about.
“Please stay.” Her eyes lock on mine.
My psyche screams that I want to be alone. But I’ve said I’m in this relationship with her, so I decide to give her this. “Okay.” I twist my wrist out of her grasp. “But it’s late. I’m going to sleep. I’ll take the couch.”
“Come on, no, please.”
“Liz.” I take a step back. “I’m staying. I can’t give any more tonight.”
“Okay.” She raises her palms.
I cross to the bathroom and brush my teeth. Then, I find a blanket in the closet and snag a pillow from the bed. Liz washes up and gets in bed and turns the light off. I lie awake, listening to the creaks and random noises. My brain won’t shut down. I wonder if the gym is open but dismiss the idea of going for a run. I dig in my bag and find headphones, but the music makes it worse. My heart won’t stop racing, and my brain won’t turn off.
Sometime after two, I finally fall into a restless sleep. As soon as there’s light in the room, I’m awake. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I dress in workout clothes. I’m not sure why I’m still here, but I told Liz I’d stay, so I am. I click the door open and hear my name.
“Zack, you aren’t leaving, are you?”
“No, going for a run.”
“I’ll order breakfast.”
“Kay.” I pull the door closed behind me, thinking to call someone. Doug, Carlos, my brother? I wish Amanda and I were still friends. If anything were her department, this is it. In the end, I crank up my music and pound out three miles on the treadmill.
When I return, Liz is dressed and there is a food cart stacked with plates next to the table. She stands as I approach. “I ordered breakfast.”
“I’m going to shower.” I point at the bathroom door.
“Aren’t you even going to look at me? We have to talk about this.”
“Just let me get cleaned up.” Eyes trained to the floor, I cross the room.
Liz is sitting at the table when I exit from showering. I don’t want to look at her. Can’t believe she thinks this can be fixed with words, one hour, one day, even a week. I don’t know the person across from me. Still, the thought of not having her in my life seems equally painful.
“Are you hungry?” She holds up a muffin.
“I guess.” I take a seat across from her.
She opens each dish, handing it to me. Nothing looks appealing, but I spread cream cheese on a bagel and lay a slice of lox on it. Pouring two cups of coffee, Liz sets one in front of me. “How did you sleep?”
“Not good.”
“Yeah, me either.” Smoothing her pants, she sits down. “I’m really sorry.”
I abandon the bagel. “Is there anything else you haven’t told me? Because now would be the time.”
“No, I swear there’s nothing else. You know everything. When Josie said that in August, it put me over the edge. I didn’t want to be your lost puppy.”
“This shouldn’t have anything to do with Josie. Can I finish my breakfast?”
“Yes.” Her eyes drop to her plate.
I feel bad. Sad that I’m being short with her. But she can’t expect me to not be hurt. If I told any of my friends what had happened, first with keeping the information about her parents from me and then this, they’d probably tell me what that I should have huge reservations about the chick. But I want to give her another chance. I want her to be the person I thought she was.
“Can we drive up to Flagstaff?” she asks as I finish my bagel.
Really, I want away from her, time to think, but I’m not sure when my next day off will be. “Sure, we should get some warmer clothes. I can run you by your place and then swing back by and pick you up.”
Water pools in her eyes. “You promise we’ll drive up to Flagstaff?”
“Yes, I promise.”
We pack our bags, check out, and head to the truck in silence. I’m not sure what she’s thinking. When I park in front of her place, I look at her. With an ashen-white face, she stares into my eyes. “You’re coming back, right? We’re going up to Flagstaff? Because I know that it wasn’t great of me to keep this from you, but it’s not that worst thing I could’ve done.”
She has a good point. If what she’s told me is true, her issue wasn’t with me, about her trusting me, it was her insecurity. I shake my head because it seems like it all boils down to her not trusting me, or not willing to be open with me. What type of relationship will we have if she can’t tell me stuff? Still, I heard that she’s been dealing with this for a long time, and imagine her trauma could be deep rooted. “You’re right. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Okay.” She shakes her head and pushes the door open.
I watch her climb the stairs to her apartment. I hate that I can’t be mad at her. Maybe I should, but all I can feel is hurt. Anger I could deal with much easier than this pit I feel in my chest. As soon as I pull in my lot, I open my contacts in my phone. Staring at Amanda’s name, I debate whether I’m being crazy that she feels like the person who can help most. But, she’s the only person I know who can give me insight as to whether I should cut Liz some slack or run away fast. I tap the screen to dial her number.
“Zack?” Amanda answers the call.
“Yeah, hi, I was wondering if I could get your opinion on something. Do you have a few minutes to talk?” I push open my door and grab my bag.
“Sure, what’s up?”
“You probably thought it was a butt dial, right?” Climbing the stairs, I unlock my apartment. I throw my bag on the floor and look to the ceiling. It hurts to repeat the story, but I start with how good me and Liz’s relationship has been except for the issue with her parents. Summarizing how close we’d become, I ask Amanda whether she would have shared that information or kept it from me.
“Well, it definitely sounds like she has trauma around the issue. It probably is much deeper than that Chad guy. Think about coming to the US with dead parents when you’re nine and speak with an Irish accent. Plus, you have this scar on your chest. Kids can be cruel.”
“Maybe that’s what this is all about, it reminds her of the family she lost.”
“But the bigger question is are you willing to forgive her for not opening up to you? Do you feel like the relationship is worth it?”
“She’s worth it. I mean, other than these issues, she’s great. I think I’m in love with her. How did you forgive Doug? Do you trust him now?”
“I don’t know. I guess I forgave him. I mean you really can’t control how you feel. Beyond that, it’s just time. It’s not like we picked up where we left off. I started over with him. He has to earn back everything we had before.”
“You think you guys will stick?” I cross to my room and find a sweatshirt and jacket.
“I have no idea.”
“Seriously, you don’t know?”
“I’m a different person than I was four years ago. I don’t know what’s going to be important to me two years from now.”
“But you love him?” Putting the phone on speaker, I toss it on the bed and switch my shirt out.
“You sure do ask a lot of questions.”
“Well?” I pull my sweatshirt on.
“I’ve always cared for him.”
“Think I’m a spy or something.” Returning to the living room, I retake my seat on the couch.
“I don’t know, Zack. I’m not even sure how I feel. I’m taking it one day at a time. I’ve got a lot on my plate.”
I pull up the weather for Flagstaff and see that it’s cold but sunny. “And Doug is okay with that?”
“He’s learning to deal. He likes having a plan, and if he thinks about it too much, I think he gets weirded out. But he’s got a good distraction with running this new office.”
“Talk about maturity. You summed Doug up in one sentence. He’s big on knowing at least five years out.”
“I’m not sure I helped you any.”
“Yeah, you did. As much as I hate it right now, I really care for her. I think it’s worth giving her the benefit of the doubt.” Closing my computer, I stand and snatch a backpack out of the closet.
“Yay for love.”
“Oh my God, that may be the hokiest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
“I hope things work out for you guys.”
“Yeah, me too. Thanks, and say hi to Doug.”
“Will do, bye.”
Ending the call, I throw the bag I packed for spring training over my shoulder, as well as the small backpack and a couple of water bottles. I’m back at Liz’s apartment in forty-five minutes, door to door.
Taking two steps at a time, I knock on the door.
It takes a few seconds for her to come. “Oh, it’s you. Come in.” She leaves the door open and turns to pick up a bag from the floor.
“Who else would it be?”
“I don’t know. It hasn’t been an hour yet. Thought it might be Brad.”
“You didn’t think I would keep my word?”
“I don’t know.” She wipes her brow. “You ready?”
I figure she thinks the truck and our destination are sort of neutral territory. I still don’t know what to say to her. How to start to explain my pain. I realize maybe I don’t need to. It’s obvious I’m hurt, no need to rehash it.
On the drive, she starts telling me her whole life story from the moment she has memories. Liz recalls her mother, father, brother, grade school, grandparents, friends from Ireland. After the crash, she is in and out of the hospital for six months, living with a foster family and supervised by social workers because her grandparents were too elderly to care for her. She tells about the first time she remembers meeting her aunt and cousin Marie. “They were basically strangers, not any different than the social workers or foster family.”
“I can’t imagine being tossed around like that at eight.”
“I dreamed of running away and living on the streets alone because I thought it would be better than living with strangers.”
We stop for a late lunch in Flagstaff. I kill the engine and turn to face her. “I get why it would be hard to open up when you’ve lost people close to you and others you trusted rejected you.”
After lunch, we take the road north to the canyon.
“Here.” She points at a parking lot a couple hundred feet ahead as I inch over the soft snow, grateful for my four-wheel drive.
I park in front of the trail sign. We bundle up and traipse through the snow and trees, having no idea where the trail is. It’s quiet, and the cool air calms my nerves. With the white ground and trunks of the Aspens, the monotone landscape soothes my senses. After a few hundred feet, we come to a clearing.
Stopping as we exit the trees, I stuff my hands in my pockets. “This isn’t a lake, is it?”
“Were you even paying attention? No, it’s Wildflower Meadow.”
“Oh.” I trudge out into the deeper snow.
“What are you doing? Your feet are going to be frozen blocks of ice.”
“They’re fine. I thought we were hiking.”
“Let me finish my story.”
“Okay.” I let her take my hand.
She details her second surgery, and how again, she’s the odd, sick kid. “When I tell people, they treat me differently. I’m defined by having lost my family and the surgery. I didn’t want to be that person here.” She hooks her arm through mine.
“I get it.” I turn to face her. “I’m hurt that you haven’t felt comfortable enough to tell me. I want you to trust me.”
“It has nothing to do with you. It’s me and my own insecurities.” She stands on her toes so our faces are inches apart. “You’re so perfect. Maybe I don’t deserve you.” Stuffing her hands in my pockets, she leans into me. “I love you so much. Thank you for giving me today and a chance to make things right.”
I wrap my arms around her. “I’m not perfect. You know that. I sort of get it. But I can’t handle any more surprises. If there’s something else, I need to know today. Now.”
“No, that’s it. That’s all of it.” She shakes her head, and her curls bounce around her face. “I love you. I’m ready to be all-in with you. I felt bad yesterday about not telling you yet and planned to tell you today.”
We stand there for what feels like minutes. Me holding her and praying she has trusted me enough to divulge everything, and I’m brave enough to stick with her. I take a deep breath. “I can’t change how I feel about you anyway. I love you.” I kiss her forehead and wrap my arms around her.