I COULDN’T GO TO sleep. I was sitting on the end of the hotel bed, at the edge of my sanity, thinking about the past. So many memories, and they were all flashing through my mind, each one too fleeting for me to hold on to.
My phone chimed, bringing my mind out of its weird fog where the past and present were dueling for my attention. The relief I felt was automatic when I saw his name.
Derek: You find him?
Me: Yeah. I did.
Derek: And???
Me: I don’t really know yet.
I was staring at my phone, waiting for his return text, when it suddenly rang. I answered and brought the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“How could you not know?” he asked, exasperated.
“Put yourself in my shoes. You see the love of your life for the first time after four years of not knowing where he is. What the hell is going through your mind?”
I was met with silence. After a grunt of acknowledgement, Derek asked, “What’d you guys talk about?”
“I can’t even remember. There aren’t words.” I gripped my chest. “It’s just a whole bunch of feelings.” I stood and started pacing. “And none of them make sense. They all contradict each other. I feel like I’m breathing for the first time in four years, and yet I still can’t fully catch my breath. My heart is calm and at peace knowing he’s okay, while at the same time it’s pounding to get out, to get close to him again. It feels like the exhaustion of these past four years has finally caught up to me now that I know he’s alive and well, so all I want is to sleep, but I’m wide awake, energized and wanting to sprint down the street to find him.”
Shaking my head, I walked to my wallet and picked out the one photo I had left of Hunter and me. His brown hair spiked up in every direction, his smile impossibly wide. It was taken on his seventeenth birthday, right after I’d given him a new digital camera and he insisted we take a picture right away. My smile was soft. I looked… so incredibly in love.
“Sherry?” Derek’s voice brought me back.
“Yeah?” I asked quietly, setting the picture facedown.
“Remember what I said… whatever your feelings are, it’s okay to have them.”
“You’re a good friend, Derek.” I paused as he made a noncommittal noise. “Sam is gonna be one lucky girl once the two of you wise up and get your shit together.”
The explosive coughing that followed should have made me feel bad. It didn’t. Derek and Sam, Gabe’s younger sister, had been dancing around each other for months. And even though they were obvious, he had yet to admit his feelings for her.
I was pretty sure he was terrified of it himself. Growing up, he and Naomi had very little parental support. Their father had disappeared from their lives when they were young kids and their mother was a heroin addict who only recently started a serious attempt to get clean.
It left a lot on Derek’s shoulders. He never complained because he loved Naomi and would give anything for her, but I could see how those years affected him. He was only nineteen when his mother went to prison, leaving him to take care of Naomi. His girlfriend at the time broke up with him because his time became limited, not that he cared. He told me they would have never made it beyond a few months anyway. Once he graduated, he got a bartending job. He loved it, but I could also tell he was struggling with his “purpose” in life.
He had hooked up with a few girls in the first couple years I knew him, but over the past year I’d only seen him make out with a handful of girls—none of whom got more than a five-minute kiss, and that was only when he was having a bad night. But since Samantha came into our lives, he had cut out or at least limited his destructive behaviors. Not one kiss. Only an occasional drink—never more than two—and a significant reduction in the number of fights he participated in. That one was the biggest.
I didn’t believe in miracles. I didn’t believe in love at first sight or that Sam suddenly had the power to “heal” Derek. Hence the fact that he was still fighting. But she had the power to make him want to be better, and sometimes that was enough. And he was on his way. When I first met him he’d fight two to three times a week. But since he met Sam, he had only signed up for six or seven fights. And over a nine-month period, that was a big deal.
“I’m sick of not knowing what the hell is happening with you two. I want answers,” I demanded.
Once his breathing got under control, Derek said, “With everything going on there, with you and Hunter, that’s what you want to focus on? I knew you’d get it out of me eventually, but you want to have this discussion right now?”
“Yes. Because Hunter and I are the definition of complicated and I want to take my mind off it.” Well, the first part was true. I didn’t think any conversation would take my mind off it, but I wasn’t above using this as an excuse to finally get him to open up. And I did want at least a little break from the soap opera that was Hunter and me.
“Don’t think I don’t know this is a total guilt trip.” I smiled at how well he knew me. “But I love you so I’m going to pretend otherwise.”
“Much appreciated, Derek.” I crawled into bed and started playing with the frayed edges of the blanket. “Now spill.”
“She’s about to graduate,” he started abruptly.
“Yeah, and…?”
“You think shackling down with a loser like me is really the best way for her to start her life?”
“What?” I nearly screamed. I knew he had some insecurities; given his past and how he looked at Sam like she hung the damn moon, it was obvious. But I had never dreamed he thought he was a loser. “If I was there right now I would hit you upside your stupid head.”
He chuckled, but it lacked any of his usual humor. “Yeah, I know. I just meant she deserves someone better.”
“Yeah, I got that. What I’m failing to understand is why you don’t think that’s you.” Derek was silent and I thought of what to say next. “Sam has flaws, too. And before you start comparing them, no, I’m sure she hasn’t been arrested. I know that’s what this is really about. But I also know it wouldn’t matter to her.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I’ve seen how she looks at you, so yes I can know that. Because it was the kind of look that said I’ll still care about you despite your stupid misdemeanor in which you were protecting someone else.”
Derek exhaled, sounding lost and exhausted, well beyond his twenty-five years. I could relate.
I felt found and lost at the same time. Over the past four years, there had been days when I thought the only reason I existed was for the sole purpose of missing him. And now that I’d found him I hardly knew who I was without all that sorrow.
We were quite the pair. Neither of us sure of our place, yet convinced we understood each other. Maybe that was all a best friend really was, someone who reminded you of who you really were.
“We’re gonna be okay, right?” he asked.
“Yeah. We will. I’m gonna settle everything here and then I’ll come home and help you get your girl.”
Derek laughed, the sound much more genuine than before. “Sherry to the rescue?”
“Always.” I smiled.
“And will you be alone?”
I paused, my gaze landing on the photo I’d left across the room. “I hope not.”
Small, delicate fingers snapped in front of my face. I blinked and looked into Maria’s concerned, dark brown eyes.
“What’s wrong, dear?”
“Not a thing, ma’am.” I gave her a tight smile before going back to my soda. I came here right after dropping Sherry at her hotel room. Thankfully it was a Friday so the bar was open until two in the morning.
“I have four sons. You know that, and between them they’ve blessed me with seven grandsons and three granddaughters.”
I smiled and gave her a nod, unsure what else I was supposed to say.
She grinned, seemingly aware of my dilemma. “All that means, I’ve dealt with my fair share of bullshit, so I know when someone is lying to me.” Maria looked down the bar toward Becky, one of the bartenders on shift for tonight. “I’ll be back in a minute. I just need to have a chat with Hunter.”
I threw back the rest of my drink before following her toward her office.
“Sit,” she commanded once the door was shut. I did what I was told. “Speak.”
There was no point in holding anything back. Besides the fact that she would hound me until I told her the truth, I actually wanted to talk. Apart from Sherry’s mom, Maria became like a mother to me during my senior year of high school.
“I need to tell Sherry the truth about what happened four years ago.” She nodded at me to continue. “I’m afraid she’ll still hate me when she knows, that she won’t understand,” I confided my biggest fear.
“You screwed up, Hunter. You made a choice, for both of you, that you had no business making. You can’t make a decision like that and not expect a bit of anger.” Her eyes softened. “But even if she hates you, she’ll forgive you.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because she loves you. I saw the way she used to look at you. Hate and anger don’t take that away.”
“I still don’t like it,” I mumbled.
“Of course not. But that’s part of the process. You feeling guilty doesn’t mean you get a free pass to feel better.” She paused. “You know that saying, ‘love means never having to say you’re sorry’?” Maria waited for my nod before continuing. “Well it’s bullshit.”
My eyebrows flew up my forehead.
“Love means getting on your knees and begging for forgiveness. Only people who are stubborn and proud won’t say sorry. And you know what happens to them?” She gestured toward the bar outside the door. “They end up alone, drinking at a bar, trying to forget the great thing they lost. Because the saying ‘pride comes before a fall’ is true.”
I thought about some of the guys out there, about their weathered form and sad eyes, and I understood what she was saying. And while my reluctance was born of fear, not pride, I still had to man up and explain.
I loved her and whether or not she forgave me, she deserved an apology. I just had to hope she loved me enough to understand and forgive me.
“He’s got it,” Maria whispered to herself before throwing me a wink and heading toward the door.
“Maria?” I turned toward her just as she opened it and went to step through. When she looked back with raised brows, I said, “Thanks.”
She gazed at me just like a mother would. “Anytime, dear.”
Amazingly, I managed to get four whole hours of sleep. Less fortunate was the fact that I was up and ready by seven a.m. with absolutely nothing to do but worry about seeing Sherry in a few hours. It felt like eons before I was actually standing outside her hotel room at nine.
I didn’t know what to expect. My palms were sweaty and my tongue felt heavy with all the things I needed to say.
All of a sudden the door flew open, and there she was.
“Hey.”
I swallowed. I felt like I was seeing her for the first time all over again. “Hi.” She stepped out and shut the door behind her. Shaking my head and trying to regain composure, I pointed toward a trail on the side of the hotel. “I figured we could take a walk, avoid prying eyes?”
Her breath of relief was answer enough.
We were quiet for the first ten minutes, just enjoying nature and taking frequent peeks at each other. Her hair was down and blowing in the slight breeze. I kept catching hints of her shampoo. Mint. Just like it’d been years ago. But it was darker and longer now, and it looked more styled than it had four years ago.
How were we ever meant to bridge this gap between past and present? It seemed impossibly vast right now, almost impossible.
“So…” she started. “Where have you been?”
I cleared my throat and kicked at a rock. “The first year I was in a few different places. Luckily, photography gave me a way to drift for a while—I didn’t really need to be anywhere.” Looking over, I saw her jaw clenched as she stared straight ahead, and I knew I’d messed up. Because she had needed me.
“Did you ever settle down anywhere?” she asked.
“Yeah, the last three years I’ve been in Rockford.” Her head whipped around.
“You… you were that close? I can’t believe… I came back whenever I could and you were… right there.”
Her voice was laced with an unbearable amount of pain, and I seriously considered punching myself in the face. But loving her and leaving her weren’t mutually exclusive; the truth of the matter was that I left because I loved her. Because it was the only way to keep her safe.
“I hated leaving, Sherry.” The words came out on a whisper, dancing off in the breeze, and I felt her stiffen beside me. “You have to know that, and there were days when I missed you so much…” I trailed off, shaking my head. “I wasn’t in a good way that first year, so I can only imagine the pain you were in. I’m sorry for that.”
I finally chanced a glance at her. She was already looking at me, tears shimmering in her eyes. I almost fell on my ass when I felt her hand reach out and softly grab mine, offering me comfort. We slowed to a stop as I held on, and both of us looked down to see my thumb lightly brush over her knuckles.
“How were you that first year?”
My hand tightened around hers. “It was bad. I drank a lot, trying to lose myself. But every morning I would look in the mirror and there I was… with the same problems and pain as the day before. The only way that would have allowed me to escape was if I lived in the bottle. It solved nothing. It took me a year and one nasty fight to learn that, but I learned it.”
She smiled and tugged on my arm. “Is that where all the muscle came from?”
I huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. The guy who found me beaten and robbed owned a boxing gym. He offered to train me.”
“You box?” she asked, surprised.
Nodding, I started walking, her hand still clutched in mine. “Yeah. Not actual fights, just techniques. I spar with some guys but it’s not dangerous. I needed a way to release my anger. I never thought of myself as an overly aggressive person, but it helped. The owner told me that by using boxing as a sport, something I did even when I wasn’t angry, I would take away the connection between aggression and anger. Who knows if it’s psychologically true, but it made sense to me. And it worked. I still get angry, but I just go take it out on a bag. I’ve never been inclined to hit a person. I’m not my father.”
Sherry looked shocked before her lips turned down into a frown and she pulled us to a stop. “Of course you’re not. Did you actually think that?”
I couldn’t look her in the eyes when I answered. “Yeah, sometimes I did.”
“Hunter—”
“I don’t think that anymore. Trust me, Maria worked on setting me straight all these years, and you know how she can be.” I was trying to lighten the mood, but it seemed to do the exact opposite. Her hand pulled away from mine and she wrapped her arms around her stomach, like she was protecting herself.
From me?
“You still talked to Maria?”
I swallowed and shoved my hands in my pockets to stop myself from pulling her back to me. “Yeah. Thomas sometimes, too.”
Now was the time to do it. To tell her why I left and all of what happened that night.
“Sherry, I—”
“Hey, let’s go to our roof. I haven’t been back there in years,” she interrupted hastily. I frowned as I watched her walk away without waiting for an answer. This wasn’t like her. This wasn’t like us.
Sherry never shied away from how she was feeling, from wanting the truth. She wasn’t one of those girls who wanted to live in the dark or avoid confrontation. I still have nightmares from when she would walk right up to me and call me on my bullshit.
My lips pulled down even more. Who was this girl running away from me?
His footsteps were hurried as he raced to catch up to me.
He talked to Maria.
He talked to Thomas.
He only lived four hours away from here.
And no one told me.
He had been about to tell me something important, I could see it in his eyes. And I ran away, something I never did. I still wanted answers, but I was overwhelmed with all the knowledge I’d just been given.
When he finally caught up to me, he didn’t say anything. He just kept sneaking glances until we got to the building. By the time we got to the top I was so wired, I jumped when Hunter’s hand landed on my shoulder.
“Sorry.” He held up his hands, his eyebrows pulled down into a worried pinch. I nodded and tried to get control over myself as he stepped back toward me. Hunter hesitated for a second before lifting his hand and pushing a piece of hair behind my ear.
“What happened to you?” he whispered. I knew he didn’t mean it as an insult, but I felt my eyebrows draw together in hurt and confusion. Hunter rushed to finish when he saw my expression. “I just meant, you never pretended with me. If I hurt you, you’d tell me. If you were happy, same thing. I never had to guess at what you might be thinking or feeling. And right now I don’t have a clue.”
I cleared my throat and stepped out of his reach. “Like you said yesterday, we’ve both changed. Maybe that change is too great.”
His face paled and his entire demeanor screamed devastation. “You don’t mean that.”
He was right, I didn’t. But… “I don’t know what I mean.” My shoulders slumped forward and I pinched the skin between my eyebrows. “Why did you leave me?” I whispered.
Warm, familiar hands found my shoulders as I continued to stare at the ground. “My father threatened you,” he whispered.
At that, my head snapped up. “To kill me?” My voice was strangled, fear coating the words even though it made no sense. His father was dead.
Hunter shook his head, squeezing my shoulders in comfort. “Not in so many words. But the implication was enough.”
I knew what he meant. I only saw Hunter’s father once after Hunter left. It was two years later, and he was walking down the street, looking down at his phone and not paying attention. I never slowed down as I walked up to his father and slapped him in the face as hard as I could.
He looked stunned when he turned back to face me. That expression quickly fled and humor took its place. And that was when he made his own “implication,” which left me with the fear that Hunter might be dead.
“Sherry.” My eyes, which had wandered away, came back to him. “I’m sorry I had to leave. But I need you to know, I don’t regret my decision.” He braced himself for my reaction, but truthfully I didn’t know what to feel.
I stepped away and moved toward the edge of the roof, stopping short when my gaze rose and landed on my house. Well not my house, my house was gone… but where my house used to be. In all the years I’d come back here, I never went near it. There was no need to and seeing it now just about gutted me.
Losing my parents and the house I grew up in, with my only link to Bobby, had been hard enough. But when I’d learned Hunter left, I could hardly make sense of anything. It felt wrong, but now, with his impassioned tone and genuine words, the decision could only be described as right.
How could the same thing be both right and wrong?