Freeing Destiny (Fate #2) (9 page)

I wanted to tell her that the pain would be worth it if it meant getting to
be with her, be with her
, as she phrased it. Even for a little while. But that would be a lie. If we started anything, once it inevitably ended we’d both be crushed.

Secretly hoping for a miracle to land in our laps, I conceded, “How can something so right be so wrong?”

“Because sometimes the world is a cruel place.”

I hated hearing her so cynical about life, but part of me understood her rationale. We put our faith in greater powers to lead us through this crazy world. Sometimes, the way things fell into place proved how spectacular and wondrous life could be. But cases like this—meeting the person who could be my soul mate only to have her ripped from me because of poor timing—made me wonder if the Man upstairs was merely moving me around like a pawn on a chess board.

Stella

The next day should’ve been easy since it was well-rehearsed.

I was supposed to tie up a few more loose ends over the phone with NYU and pack some things to ship to Ryan’s parents in New York. But as I went through the mundane motions, I couldn’t get my mind off Jack.

After our deep conversation on the beach, the two of us ran along the shore in silence. For me, running was a way to relieve all the pent up frustration that came with longing for Jack. A sprint always cleared my mind and prepared me for what came next. For Jack, I couldn’t help but think he was following my lead just to stay in the game. The harder I ran, my feet thudding against the wet sand, the tougher he fought to keep up. He was chasing me—in every sense of the word—and no doubt trying to prove that he wouldn’t lose gracefully.

Why was he making it so difficult? Why couldn’t we just be friends and then say our good-byes, happy to have been given the chance to meet at all? I liked to believe in happenstance—if we were truly meant to be, our paths would cross again at some point in time. I was moving to New York, not Antarctica. People ran into each other all the time. It wasn’t as if it was an impossibility. Jack was friends with my stepfather; I still had other friends out here, so I’d probably be back again some day. I was not about to throw away everything I’d worked for over a guy I just met.

That was my story and I was sticking to it. Except my damn heart had her red pencil sharpened and ready to make some life altering revisions.

Staring at my cell phone, I felt as if it were calling out to me—
use me, Stella! Put your pretty little fingers on my screen and dial that boy’s number. You know you want to . . .

God, did I! But that would only screw up this screwed up situation even more. If Jack hadn’t moved in for a kiss when he dropped me off from the beach yesterday, he was probably convinced it was time to leave well enough alone. Maybe he was finally giving up—or giving
in
to my wishes. I’d told him time and time again that we couldn’t be anything. Maybe it finally sank in—for good.

Turning my back on the imaginary voices coming from the electronic device, I busied myself with emptying out my desk drawer. When I came upon an old letter from my dad, I immediately picked it up and pressed it close to my chest.

I knew what it said because I’d read it over and over again throughout the years. I loved having this little part of him to cherish forever. The tiny paper held so much weight even though he couldn’t have realized it back when he was writing it.

Dad had gone on a business trip and was leaving me, Mom, and Nina for the first time. I remember crying and throwing an ‘it’s not fair’ tantrum because at eight years old, the thought of Daddy not being able to tuck me in at night felt like the end of the world. Silly now that I thought about it, since I’d have to learn to live without him ever tucking me in again only a few short years after he wrote the letter.

Unfolding the page, creases crackling, I stared at his words and let them breathe new meaning into me this time.

*

Dear Stella Bella,

Be a good girl for Mommy, just like you always are. I’ll only be gone for three measly nights and then I’ll be back to hug you ’til the sun don’t shine.

This probably won’t make any sense to you now because you’re so young, but remember that there are times in life when we have to do what’s best for the big picture. This means that even though we don’t want to do something (like I don’t want to go away and leave you, Mommy and Nee Nee for this trip) sometimes we have to be brave and strong and suck it up. I’m sucking it up big time by getting on the plane tomorrow and missing pizza night, story time, and Saturday morning cartoons because Daddy’s job is important. But when I get back, it will be like it never happened. Pinky promise, Stells.

I love you more than all the fishies in the sea, baby.

Love,

Daddy

P.S. One more thing, even though I have plenty of time to teach you all of life’s important lessons. Although doing the
right
thing sometimes seems like the
hardest
thing, never ever do something that doesn’t
feel
right. I’m probably confusing you—oh who am I kidding, you’re smarter than me and Mommy combined—but what I’m trying to say is, always do what makes you happy, sweetheart. If it makes you smile—that’s all that matters.

*

Over the years when I read this letter, it would urge me to do things like give in to my pain in the ass sister when she needed a favor or wanted to borrow a favorite shirt. A few times it encouraged me to do some pretty awesome things at school, like running for sorority president and taking an advanced class that was sure to kill my social life. But today, as I let my father’s words sink in—
if it makes you smile, that’s all that matters
—I grabbed the phone and sent the text that I’d been wanting to send all morning.

Me: You make me smile. Got some time for more Sunshine today?

I stared at the phone, hoping my decision to throw caution to the wind and do what made me happy wasn’t too late.

When the screen lit up with an incoming message, I was so happy I’d followed my heart for once.

Jack: Ain’t no sunshine when you’re gone . . . shit yes! What time can I come get you?

Me: Now’s as good a time as any.

Jack

What the fuck had changed in the last twenty-four hours? Or did I really care? All I knew was that when I saw that text flash across the screen of my phone I nearly danced around the office, touchdown style.

It was Monday—back to the daily grind—but things were slow and Stella wouldn’t be around much longer; I could maneuver my schedule a bit to take her out for a nice dinner.

Me: Wrapping some things up here in the office. Can I take you out to eat tonight?

Stella: You mean like a date, date?

Her schoolyard outlook on boy meets girl made me smile. Things should always be as simple as boy likes girl, girl likes boy, girl and boy live happily ever after. But alas, our tale came with a twist. Still, I smiled at the thought of spending more time together, happy she’d been the one to initiate. After the back and forth at the beach and the hookah bar, I made the decision to back off and let Stella take the lead. It actually felt good not to be chasing her for a change.

Me: Yes. Tonight we wine, dine and . . .

I stopped my fingers from texting the vulgar response. Whenever I’d gone a little too far past her comfort zone over the last few days—aka letting her know how much I wanted her—she froze. I didn’t need that, but I also couldn’t abandon the real me.

Stella: Don’t you dare finish that sentence with 69!

Me: I had no intention of it, but looks like your mind is in the gutter.

Stella: Oh, Jack. You do crazy things to me and I’m not sure whether to hate it or love it.

Love it, damn you!
She’d let down her guard, that spoke for something. But even through text, her walls were up. I’d do my best to change that tonight. I had the opening.

Me: Let me get everything settled here, freshen up at home and I’ll pick you up at 5. Okay?

Stella: Don’t keep me waiting too long or I might change my mind.

Like she had to remind me—that exact thought had already crossed my mind, but I wanted our first
real
date to be right. I had to leave a lasting impression. It was one of the final ones I’d ever get.

Me: I wouldn’t dream of it. See you soon ;)

She emerged from her home, the For Sale sign with the word SOLD taped across the front still spiking out of the lawn. For something that was so normal to me and my line of work, this particular vision actually made me sad.

I shrugged off the dread that came with the notion of Stella leaving and ogled her appearance from afar. My Sunshine looked as gorgeous as always. Her blonde waves bounced as she strode down the driveway in my direction. Her tiny hips swayed beneath the light, flowing material of her skirt. Mesmerized by her effortless beauty, I nearly forgot to get out of the car and act a gentleman. I somehow unloaded my mind of all the things I hoped we’d do tonight, and jumped out of my seat to meet her at the hood of my Jeep.

I had an insane urge to start this date off the way most people ended one—with a kiss. Her lips shone with gloss in the late day sun, and tempted me to take a taste.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Her voice cracked when she asked, but her eyes gave her away. She loved the way I stared at her.

I didn’t want to
tell
her why. I wanted to
show
her. But at the risk of ruining the night before it even started, I tamed the need for my lips to claim hers and hooked an arm around her neck to bring her in for a hug. “You look beautiful,” I said, and sucked in the scent of her sweet perfume and coconut shampoo.

“Thank you. You look really nice, too.”

She’d seen me barely-clothed in swim trunks, dressed to the nines in a tux, and sporting my favorite pair of jeans, but tonight—judging from the way the words floated off her tongue in a breathy whisper—I knew she liked what she saw. We were on even ground—finally. This would be a night to remember.