Into the Tomorrows (Bleeding Hearts Book 1) (30 page)

“Is that what you meant, when you said you weren’t supposed to let me go yet?” My voice had raised, but I controlled it, pulling it back down to a calm level.

“I made you promise me six months. Six months living together, spending our days together. I made that promise to myself, that I wouldn’t let you go.”

Putting my hands in my hair, I tried to control the burning in the backs of my eyes. “You wasted my time. You wasted yours. All over your guilty conscience?” I swallowed when the tears pricked my throat. “And the worst part of all of this is that you didn’t even
try.
You brought me here and then left me, like you did when she died.”

I turned to Mila. “And you. You…pretended to be my friend? For what reason?”

Mila closed her eyes and when she opened them, she looked sadder than I’d seen her look. Her normally effervescent personality was gone, replaced by a woman who looked to be mourning so much.

“I didn’t pretend. I wanted to hate you, Trista. But I couldn’t. I wanted to be your friend. I want to be your friend. But…” she looked at Colin. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. Any of it. I’m sorry you’re hurt.”

I shook my head, because hurt wasn’t the word I would use to describe
how
I felt in that moment. Shock, anger, and a little bit of disgust with myself for not seeing it—that would better articulate what I was going through.

Suddenly a movement out of the corner of my eye caused me to pause. I turned to Jude, who’d been a silent bystander the whole time. “Did you know?” I asked.

His eyes never wavered. “Yes.”

“The whole time?”

He nodded.

“And you didn’t tell me either? What happened to no more secrets?” I asked, reminding him of the promise he’d made in the campground.

He stepped forward, directly under a fluorescent light. He looked at Colin first, and the anger was reflected in his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to lash out at Colin, but he turned to me instead. “I’m sorry.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” I asked, gesturing to him and Mila. “I need air. I need to get some space.” I couldn’t think with three pairs of eyes on me, everyone reeking of secrets they’d kept too long.

“And you,” I said pointing to Colin, “don’t blame me for not taking care of yourself. If you’re not supposed to drink, don’t fucking drink.”

Colin’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you.”

“I don’t know what’s gotten into
you.
You’ve had this heart condition for several years, but lied to me about the scars on your chest. You had six years to tell me the truth. Six years. You cheated on me for a year, but still moved me into your apartment because you felt sorry for me.”

“You’re such a hypocrite. Don’t tell me that you and Jude didn’t hook up while camping. You both have been so tempted, for so long. I can see it—I know who you are, I can see your secrets.”

It didn’t matter what he said, because he missed the entire point. “You think I like cheesecake. You think I hate the outdoors. You haven’t been paying attention to me, Colin. Not once, over the last six years. I may have fallen in love with you out of gratitude, but that’s long, long gone.” I wrapped my arms around my chest, to warm the chill that had overtaken my heart. “We were done a long time ago, but neither of us had the courage to admit it.”

Colin looked unfazed by what I was saying. It hit me, how little he must have cared for me. All the times he’d begged me to stay, to work through our shit—had been out of pity. And now that I knew it, he dropped the act.

Mila looked miserable, more affected than Colin was by what was happening. “You kept this from me. You didn’t take care of yourself.” I shook my head. “You could’ve ended up in the hospital at any moment—and you didn’t tell me.”

“I should take better care of myself.” Colin laughed without humor. “We all do things we shouldn’t do, but just because my vices are less honorable doesn’t make everyone else irreprehensible.” He turned his gaze to Jude.

Jude shifted beside me, like he wanted to say something. When he didn’t, I turned to him. “What does he mean?”

“You didn’t tell her that either? You’re not better than me.” Colin’s voice was grating now, twisting my nerves.

“Tell me what?” My eyes hadn’t left Jude’s. He suddenly looked ten years older, the lines around his eyes reflecting sadness.

“He has the same heart condition I have,” Colin spat. His words lanced me, as I stared at Jude. “That’s how we met. That’s why we look out for each other. Why our parents are so keen on us sticking by one another—because we both keep pushing ourselves.” His voice seemed to be drowning among the sounds in my head, as if he was lowering his voice. “It’s why Mila lives with us, to keep us both in check. Why Jude can’t go on strenuous trips alone.”

The pages in my head flipped—back to the scar on Colin’s chest. Did Jude have the same scars? Flipped forward to Jude telling me about having an illness when he was younger. To the EKG Jude had in the hospital. To the way he seemed so fit until we ascended the falls. To the sign at the top of that hike, that urged those with heart conditions not attempt the hike.

My scars are things I didn’t choose.

There are a lot of things that aren’t good for me. I haven’t stopped doing them.

Jude’s words repeated back to me as I stared at him. Colin might have continued talking, but it didn’t matter—not anymore. I needed a break. I needed air.

“You kept it from me. Like Colin did.”

Jude glanced at Colin, but instead of the anger that I’d seen in Colin’s eyes as he told me about his heart condition, I only saw remorse in Jude’s.

“You were so sad when I met you—Colin told me…” He swallowed, choosing his words carefully. “Colin told me you weren’t coping well, which was why he hadn’t told you.” He took a breath, glanced back at Mila and Colin. “Can we talk outside?”

My nose burned. The tears were right behind my eyes, because the hurt was worse now. Everything was happening so fast, my head spun.

I was already pushing past him, into the hallway. Three doors down from Colin’s room, Jude grabbed me and held me close. He must have sensed the way I was falling apart, the way all the pieces of the things I knew had crumbled.

“You didn’t tell me,” I said against his chest. I didn’t hold him, couldn’t hold him. My entire world as I knew it was crumbling around me.

“I thought it was best, until we knew each other better.”

I pushed off of him. “But you went down that hike, to the falls. Knowing you shouldn’t. The sign said not to hike it if you had breathing or heart problems, and you did anyway.”

He rubbed a hand over his neck, down in his chest. “I’ve known I’ve had this condition for years—the time doesn’t make it any easier to accept it.” He took a deep breath.

“Have you had surgery, like Colin?”

“Nothing as invasive. Small procedures.”

I shook my head, put my hands on my hips. “You took me hiking—in high altitudes, knowing your heart could give out. What would I have done? If you’d collapsed? You took a huge risk, and you made me responsible for you. Would Mila have let you do the hike down to the falls?”

Jude didn’t need to say anything, because his face gave it away.

“So you kept information from me—something that could have
killed you
a secret—just so you could climb down the falls.” I blinked rapidly. I couldn’t let tears fall in front of him.

“I did.”

“You touted honesty to me, repeatedly. And while you might not have lied, you kept something very important from me.” I squeezed my eyes shut because the hurt was rising. “You knew Colin and Mila were together, and you didn’t tell me.”

He sucked in a breath, pointed to the room. “That’s my sister, Trista. Do you think I approve of them? Half the time, I don’t even like Colin all that much. But she does. And you did. And when you came to Colorado, all I could think of was how much of an asshole he was.” He blew out a breath, his eyes red. “And it killed me, seeing you so sad, knowing that he didn’t care how he should.” His hands came to my shoulders. “I never meant for us to happen, but I wanted you to see him for who he was yourself. If I—” he shook his head and I felt the anger, the frustration, in his hands. “If I pushed you from him by telling you, you’d think I was selfish.” He squeezed me. “Because I was. Fuck, I wanted you. But I wanted you to want me, not by default.”

“I never wanted you by default.” But I couldn’t have him hold me. I shrugged his hands off my shoulders.

“I should’ve told you. Everything. Trista, I… I’m just so sorry. For everything.”

My feelings for him hadn’t changed, but knowing what I knew and suffering from a crippling, overwhelming need to get major distance from him—from everyone—made me walk away.

He stopped me, pulling me tight to him. But I was done.

My boyfriend had lied to me, about the most important things. He’d all but pushed me on Jude, to rid himself of the obligation he had to me.

The man I’d fallen in love with had kept something important from me, because he saw me as fragile—too afraid to know the truth. He’d had a hundred conversations, a hundred opportunities to tell me all of it, and he didn’t.

“You knew how confused I was—that I didn’t know why I stayed with Colin. And yet, the whole time, you knew he was with your sister.” My words were venom. My sadness was fusing with anger, as I thought of all the time I wasted. “You could have told me, given me an out. Saved me from finding out like this—with everyone” –I flung my hand to the hospital room— “watching me find out that my boyfriend had been cheating on me for a year.”

He tried to touch me, to pull me to him. I nearly let him, but I couldn’t. Everything was too much, and this time, his touch wouldn’t be enough

It was clawing at my neck, this need to escape, to breathe. “I need to be alone right now,” I said, knowing full well that my right now would be longer than his. “Please, leave me be.”

His eyes were haunted as he looked at me—like he knew, deep down, that I wouldn’t be coming back.

“Goodbye, Jude.” It was painful, walking away from him. My heart beating, my lungs aching. My steps echoing down the beige and blue hallway.

There were a thousand conversations in my goodbye, but I only said those two words and didn’t look back.

There’d been a weightlessness in my chest the day before—an absence of the heartache that I’d worn for years. But my chest filled, and my mother’s words came back to me once again.

Sorrow. It’s your destiny.

I stopped at Colin’s apartment, grabbing the box of Ellie. Knowing Jude would be at the hospital a while longer, until Mila would bring him home, I sat on his bed, smoothing my hand across his comforter. I lay back, needing to close my eyes for a moment. I fell asleep to birds singing their night song, music playing in the distance, my heart beating, and a bed empty of him.

My eyes were burning from unshed tears, but my heart—my heart was absolutely aching. I was alone. Again. And I loved him still.

I knew in my heart that I couldn’t let him completely go over this. But I couldn’t cope with all that had been withheld from me. In coming to Colorado, I’d found the truth of my boyfriend, the love in another man. But the one thing I hadn’t found was what I set out to find: me.

I’d been defined for so long by the people I’d loved that I didn’t know who I was without them. I’d been the other half of Ellie and Trista; I’d been Colin’s girlfriend. I’d been loved by a man who was drawn to my sadness. I had made too many mistakes, fallen in love out of gratitude. I’d hurt and I’d loved in equal measure, but still—I was lost, because I didn’t know who I was, outside of them, outside of the sad.

I wasn’t sure how long I slept, but when I woke, I stared at the empty pillow for a long while.

I dug in my purse for paper and pen and then wrote Jude a note.

I held the note tightly as I lay alone on that bed; birds chirping, music playing, heart beating, heart breaking. 

And then, I left.

I
breathed
in the gentle wind, let it burn my nostrils. The sun was warm on my skin, bringing with it a memory of one of my yesterdays, of the man who made me look forward to my tomorrows.

I closed my eyes, imagined his face. Imagined how I’d touched his skin, how he’d kissed mine. How his words had made me feel loved, needed.

It was all I’d ever wanted.

One step forward, one breath out. One dream gone, one hope forgotten. A thousand wishes lost once they’d left my lips. He’d been in almost every one.

A breeze fluttered my oversized shirt, flapping its frayed edges against my bare legs. My arms rested at my sides, my fingers clenched around my phone. How long had it been since my hands had held his? Since I’d felt the very definition of human connection? Too long.

“I miss you,” I heard myself say, but my words were a whisper from cracked lips, a tremble from my feeble jaw. My heart was a drumbeat in my head and I repeated one word in time to each beat: no, no, no.

Goosebumps lit my skin as the sounds of my surroundings broke the trance I was in. People laughing, televisions blaring their afternoon
Judge Judy
as they ate from chipped dollar store china. The world moving around me as I stayed still. Dawn was flooding the horizon, driving away the gray and warming buildings as it made its approach to where I stood.

As the sun touched first my toes and then my legs, I took in a deep breath. From my feet to my head, the sun warmed my skin, and I imagined it washing away my sins. A baptism performed on the edge of a building.

I loved you, I thought to myself, his many faces like a slide show behind my eyelids. I still do.

Bring me back to yesterday, to the man who’d made me feel worth something.

I no longer wanted a tomorrow. I wanted him, but he was gone. He was my tomorrow, all of my tomorrows, and he was gone.

And as I took another step to the edge, looked down at the cars below me.

Trista
, his voice whispered.
Are you ready?

God, his voice. It’d been so long since he’d let his words caress my ear. My knees trembled, their knobby bones the only thing holding me together.

I shook my head, willing him away. He was gone.

I swallowed the saliva that had pooled in my mouth. How did I go from being someone with a schoolgirl crush to someone standing on the ledge of my shitty apartment building, contemplating taking one extra step and falling through the air to what awaited me below?

I’ll wait for you.

It hurt, his voice. His memory was an open wound. I had nearly been ready. And here I was, back to who I was before all of it.

The phone in my hand rang. The number was unfamiliar—but they all were. My heart was crumbling inside my chest, but I pressed “answer” and waited.

There was a rumbling, a cough and a breath. And then, a ghost spoke, giving me the shiver he always did when he said it.

“Trista.”