For Her (Broken Promises #2) (7 page)

So I don’t.

Rolling my sorry ass out of bed, I’m downstairs and in front of Lane’s old door in no time flat. Seriously, I don’t really remember how I got here. It’s dark. It smells like him. That damn light in the bedroom is still on.

And I still can’t go in.

“Come on, fucker. Don’t be a pussy, just go the fuck inside,” I whisper to myself.

Fuck. Why is this so hard?

One foot in front of the other, I take the first steps into my best friend’s apartment that hasn’t been lived in since that tragic night. Taking a breath, I close my eyes and breathe in the comforting scent that’s always seemed to rest in the air here. My place is just one story up, but it’s never smelled or felt this comforting. This… this is home. This feels more like home than my apartment does. This is where we’d stay up late at night just drinking and hanging out together when neither of us felt like living the LA lifestyle; when we both just wanted to not have to be busy models or musicians anymore. He was the only person I could do that with, now he’s gone and I have nothing. No one.

I need to get Alexis back here. I need to show her she’s better off here, with me and the rest of our friends.

Taking a deep breath, I start making my way around his apartment, absentmindedly running my hand along the surfaces, feeling his life wipe away like the dust that’s settled on the surface.

He’s really gone.

That night I don’t go back upstairs. That night, after hours of sitting and staring at his apartment, I fall asleep on the couch one last time. 

Alexis

“Dad are you watching this?” Grabbing the remote from the arm of his chair, I walk over to the couch and stare at the TV. Snorting and opening his eyes from his afternoon nap, he sighs and grumbles something before standing to walk out of the room. This is becoming a daily ritual. He takes me to physical therapy in the morning, we have lunch, he naps while I job hunt, and then I wake him up to watch a little TV before calling Braydon. We’ve been going at this long distance friendship thing for a few months now. Each day is a little easier being away from him, but each day I spend at my parents house under their care also reminds me of how much I’m missing back home.

Home.

In the past few years of living in LA, I had really made it feel more like home than my parent’s house ever did. I had friends; I had a job that I could support myself with. I had a boss who turned out to be my best friend and boyfriend all the way up to the end. I had it good. And in one night I lost it all. So here I sit, on my parents couch in their living room watching Jeopardy as my dad starts on making dinner. I feel like I’m thirteen again and without a purpose.

It’s insane how one event can completely wipe away all of your purpose in life. And now I don’t know how to get it back. I’ve been job hunting, but I can’t for the life of me find something that I’m going to make enough at and be happy with in my current situation. I can’t help but think that maybe had I moved back to my place in LA… well, Lane’s place… that I’d be able to find a job easier there since I know so many people. Maybe moving back here wasn’t the smartest move, but I can’t change that now.

When my phone dings I glance down to a text from Braydon.

Bray:
What’re you up to tonight?

Grinning, I swipe out my response and hit send.

Me
: Netflix night with my parents. I think I may skip out and go to bed early. How’s your week going?

Bray’s been fantastic with keeping up with my progress and keeping in touch. He makes sure to come out at least two times a week if he can, but the band is starting to get a bigger name for themselves, which in turn has made the bar busier than normal. I know he’s busy, so I know he can’t make it out as much as he’d like, but I’m thankful for any time I get to spend with him. We haven’t talked about that night that he kissed me. I’m afraid to bring it up because I know it was probably just him hurting and searching for something to hold on to. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it, but I can’t. I couldn’t. I needed to find myself.

Hell… I still need to find myself.

If I keep telling myself that, then I’ll one day believe it. Truth is, I miss him so damn hard. I miss his randomness. I miss his brash, unapologetic tone when the truth needs to be spoken and no one else has the balls to speak up. I miss the way he smiles. I miss his music and his god-awful early morning squawking when I’d spend the night, because I didn’t feel like driving home. I miss it all… but I shouldn’t have it, so I’m staying away.

Thing is… I’m lying to myself. Lying when I tell my parents I’m happy living here. Lying when Braydon asks how I’m doing and I tell him I’m doing well. I’m lying to Pete when I tell him I’m looking forward to starting over here in my hometown. I’m lying, because I can’t have Bray the way I think I want him, and I’m scared to what would happen to our friendship if anything ever happened between us. I’m not the ‘take no prisoners’ Alexis that I used to be. The accident did something to me. It gave me fear I never knew I had. It gave me fear that I’ll end up losing the only thing I hold close to me, so I’ve become a chicken and afraid to speak my mind. I’m afraid to lose anything else. Anyone else.

I don’t realize I’m crying until a tear hits my hands. I’m holding my phone tightly, staring at the screen, waiting for the reply text to come through. Fucking emotions. My phone dings, so I dry the screen off and swipe the unlock code, opening up to his reply, making me grin. It’s a picture of his dumb ass beautiful face with a coffee cup in front of it. Dork.

Bray:
It’s fine. Busy. I’m about to head into practice. Show this weekend. I’ll call later…  I miss you, Al <3

I smile down at the text, seeing his subtle heart he added in there. He hasn’t come near my lips with his again, but he’s not holding back in hinting towards possibly wanting something more with me. Whatever it is, I can’t do it. I can’t do that to Lane so soon. Even months after his passing, I still feel like I’d be betraying him in some way. I’m not sure if it’ll ever be okay to be with Braydon the way I think my heart wants to. And for that reason, I’m not budging from my spot in my parent’s house.

Do I want to move back to LA? Absolutely. I want to be near Bray. I want to be near my friends. I honestly think that I’d be able to find a job easier and get on with life easier if I wasn’t under constant care from my parents. One day I’ll get there. One day I’ll be able to go around town like it’s no big deal I don’t feel sexy at all anymore and only have one point five legs. One day I’ll feel normal again and be able to say ‘sure, I’d love to go out on a date with you’ to any random guy. One day I won’t be so self-conscious about my new state of being that I’ll be able to sleep with someone with no fear of them bolting when they see my leg.

One day. That day isn’t today, though.

Today, I’m preparing for a meeting with Lane’s lawyer. He called yesterday and wants to meet at the end of the week to go over a few things. I guess since I was closest to Lane’s estate that I’m the go to person when it comes to finalizing things. I told him I’d help out any way I can, but he has to come to me. I’m not really a fan of being in cars for long periods of time at this point.

My parents and I spend the night watching I Love Lucy reruns, reminiscing of times when I was younger and would try to imitate Lucille Ball’s outrageous behavior. The laughs coming out of my dad… so carefree and happy… remind me of why I came back home.

The best medicine is family. I’m getting a huge dose right now, but there’s nothing wrong with that.

The next day at physical therapy, my trainer Ben finally speaks up on something other than my progress.

“So, you have plans this weekend?” His hands shoved in his pockets, Ben smiles a comforting smile as I keep up a good pace on the treadmill.

Therapy since I’ve gotten used to walking with a prosthetic has been going great, and now I’m only doing it to keep up my strength, really. Insurance is paying for it and they are nice here, so it’s a win win. Soon I’ll be receiving my custom made prosthetic which will mean more sessions to make sure everything is lined up and moving correctly.

“Nope,” I huff as he inclines the machine ever so slightly. “I meet with the lawyer tomorrow to go over Lane’s estate.” I shrug at him as he nods. He knows everything about the last few months of my life. When you spend every day with someone, working in some pretty close proximity you get to know them pretty well. I’ve cried to him multiple times, and each time he takes it professionally and perfectly, letting me get it all out, then pushing me a little harder to make me focus on moving and not the pain.

“You ready for it?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for it, no. I have to do it, though. I was the closest to him right up until the end. It has to be me.” I shrug and keep walking, deciding to make a subject change to take my mind off the nerves starting to radiate through me.

Of course I’m not ready. I’m scared to death of what’s going to happen tomorrow. I’ve been absent from Lane’s finances and paperwork… hell everything about the modeling gig was left in the dust the minute I woke up in the hospital without a leg and without my boyfriend. Shit sucked,  the last thing on my mind was making sure his paperwork was straightened out. I’m scared shitless that it’s all going to come back and bite me in the ass now.

“You going to see Pete later?” Ben asks, looking at me through his sunglasses as he walks out to my car with me at the end of my session.

Pete, my childhood best friend, is now a lawyer in his hometown. He lives in a huge house with his two dogs and one ferret Mr. Nono. I’ve asked him plenty of times this last month why he got that name, but he has yet to tell me the story. Pete’s been gay since the minute I met him, but he’s only recently come out to those he loves that his love interest just happens to be the same sex as him. I’m happy for him. I’m all for people being with the person they love, no matter what color, religion, or sex. If he’s happy, I’m happy.

And right now? Right now, Pete and Ben are attempting to date without either of them saying they’re ‘dating’, because each is as stubborn as the other, but I see through their façade. Talking to Ben about it, I see the signs. The love signs. I see it more when talking to Pete, but that’s only because I’ve known him since I was five years old.

“Yes, Ben, I will be.” I say, smiling at him. “Dinner at eight. Would you like to come with?” I’m asking because I know he’s going to shy away and decline the invitation, which is just too damn cute.

“I’m fine… I’m… No thanks. I have to go.” He mutters something and I smile, knowing full well how much he really wants to come to dinner and be with us. I wish they’d just be open with their relationship. Neither of them are in the closet, both have had public relationships in the past. I’m not certain why they’re being different with this… whatever it is.

I sigh and yell goodbye at him, laughing when he waves me off, and head out to the car where my dad is waiting for me. One day I’ll have the nerve to drive myself again, it’ll just take some time. I remember the first and only other accident I was in. I was seventeen years old, I had just gotten a new car. Well, it was new to me. It was actually an older model car, because my parents refused to spend a shit ton of money on a car I was more than likely going to wreck.

They were smart parents.

The fender bender didn’t hurt anyone, and my massive Buick barely took a dent. Either way, after that accident I was scared to drive for weeks, too chicken that I’d hurt someone worse the next time.

This time? Well, this accident has taken a lot from me. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to drive myself anywhere again without having that anxiety, but one day I’ll try it. I have to, if I ever want to get my life and independence back.

“Your mom is working late,” my dad says, interrupting my thoughts, “You want to grab dinner or something?” He’s really a cute older man. I almost feel guilty that I haven’t produced a grandchild for them yet, but they are still young that even if it takes me a few more years they’ll still be young enough to be involved in their grandchild’s life.

“I’m going out with Pete tonight, Dad.” I smile at him, but feel guilty that I’m turning him down. I know he loves to spend time with me, I can’t help but think that he knows my stay at home might be coming to an end sooner than they’d hoped. I know I have a ways to go, but I feel like they think I’ve moved home for good.

This isn’t a permanent situation. This is only temporary. I still have a life to live.

“So Ben told me today that I’m probably ready to switch to less sessions with him. He said since I was so physically fit before the accident that the recovery time has been shortened and I’m doing so well getting around that they don’t need to see me as much anymore.” I smile at my dad whose hands tighten on the steering wheel.

“Well that’s fantastic, Alexis. I’m proud of you. You’ve always been a fighter.” 

“Yea,” I sigh. “I feel like I might be getting somewhere, Dad. I feel like I’m ready to start looking into starting over.” God, just saying the words out loud are hard.

“Oh yea?” He flicks his gaze to mine, then back to the road quickly. He knows my apprehension with being in a car. He’s not about to make it worse by driving carelessly.

“Yea.” It’s all I can say because I only today came up with this decision. It’s strange how one session could have changed my outlook, but after hearing from a trained professional how good I’m doing, I know I have to stop feeling sorry for myself and start moving on with my life. “I’m ready.”

Silently nodding, my dad’s hand reaches over and rests on top of mine for the rest of the short drive home. He knows how much LA means to me. I remember the fight we had when I moved out there initially. I was young, naïve, and just wanted out of my hometown. They never wanted me to go, but once I was there, making a living and a name for myself they couldn’t have been prouder. I know they’d support me in anything I choose. I know it won’t be a fight this time if I said that I’m ready to go back and live in LA… I’m just not one hundred percent I’m ready for it.