Mesmerized (9 page)

“I’m still in love with you, Cherry, always have been. None of my feelings changed when I left.”

I exhale. A tear breaks free of my resolve and trails down my cheek.

“I know I don’t deserve a second chance. What I did to you is unforgivable, just like Ashley said.”

He pauses and I wait, silent, sensing he has something else to say.

“I know you have a boyfriend. I saw you today,” he continues.

My eyes open wide.

“At the farmer’s market. I saw you with him. It wasn’t easy but I watched you for a while. I can see that he treats you the way you deserve to be treated, and I have absolutely no right to ask you to try us again. I’ve already crossed lines with you.” He takes my hands in his, holding them tightly. “But I also know there’s still something here, between us, and I would be a complete idiot to just go back to LA and act like none of this ever happened.”

I don’t know what to say. Brandon’s eyes are dark and intense. I have to break away from his gaze because I can’t think straight with him looking at me like that. I look down at our hands and try to calm my racing mind.

In the months, even years, following his disappearance, I would sometimes let my mind wander through different scenarios and imagine what I would say to him, if I ever saw him again. Mostly they were a series of bitter diatribes that were meant to wound him and make him feel like shit for leaving me that way. I never imagined he would apologize and be so self-aware of his own failures. I never prepared myself to have
this
type of conversation.

However, one nagging question still remains unanswered. I look up at him again. “Why didn’t you come back for me? If you’ve felt this way the whole time, why not come here and tell me? You’ve had three years of stewing in this regret, when you could have contacted me at any point along the way and tried to make things right.”

Brandon shifts his gaze for a moment before answering. “I was ashamed. I was scared. I didn’t know how you would react. You have no idea how many times I sat down to write it all out in a letter or an email. I would go to call you but hang up before dialing the last number. Eventually, I just stopped and tried to bury it all. Lock it away in the back of my mind.”

I nod, remembering the letters I started but then threw away, the emails I never sent, and the hang-up calls I made. I remember being angry, scared, rejected, lonely, sad, and how I never found the right words to explain it all.

“I’m so sorry, Cherry, more than you will ever know. I know I ruined everything. I wish I could take it all back.”

I look down at my hands, no longer able to meet his eyes. “I can’t do this,” I hear myself say. “I can’t have you here, saying all these things.”

Brandon clears his throat and rises from the table.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“It’s okay. I get it,” he says. “Like I said, I know I don’t have the right to ask you for anything, but I had to try. For my own peace of mind.”

I can’t speak. My mouth opens but nothing comes out.

I finally look up and our eyes connect. He looks conflicted, as if he wants to say something more.

“Let me walk you out.” I start to rise from my chair.

Brandon holds out a hand to stop me. “Good-bye, Cherry.”

“Good-bye,” I answer. I wait until the front door clicks shut, and I finally release the tears I’ve been holding back since before dinner even started.

Work drags on for what feels like forever the next day. Ashley hasn’t stopped by yet, which is unusual for her. I drum my fingernails on the counter top, staring out the windows of the café…wondering what Brandon is doing right now…wondering if I should try to see him again…wondering what I would say if I did see him…wondering.

I’m just about to text Ashley to see what’s taking her so long. I also want to momentarily distract myself from my looping thoughts. I grab my phone from my pocket, and right as I send the message she stumbles through the front door.

Looking as if she’s about to collapse, she slaps her hand on the counter. “Hit me.”

I set a fresh coffee in front of her. “Pulled an all-nighter?”

“Is it that obvious?” she asks. As she smoothes her hair and tugs at her jacket, she realizes her buttons are mismatched. She mutters under her breath and unbuttons her coat to fix it. “I was up till four. But…I got everything done and shipped out this morning, so it was worth it. Just exhausting.”

“We’re getting too old for all-nighters. We don’t handle them as gracefully as we once did,” I say.

She nods in agreement as she begins to chug down the coffee. It’s gone in less than a minute. “Hit me again.”

I refill her cup from the carafe and decide she has probably burned off half of her taste buds by now.

“How was your night? Did you go out with James?” she asks.

Oh boy…here we go.

“Not exactly,” I start.

“You were with Brandon, weren’t you?”

My jaw drops in surprise. “What? How did you…?”

“Charity, I’ve known you forever, and one thing I know is that you’re a terrible liar! I always know when you’re up to something. Remember that surprise party you tried to throw for my seventeenth birthday? You kept it from me for what? A whole three days?”

I smile at the memory. “What gave it away this time?”

“The jacket. I knew it wasn’t yours.”

I shoulda known. Leave it to Miss Fashionista to spot something like that.

“It could have been James’s.” I know I sound unconvincing.

She just shakes her head at me like I’m some poor creature to be pitied.

“Okay fine, you’re right,” I admit, looking down at the countertop and rubbing at an old coffee stain.

“Alright, so spill. What’s going on with you two? What the heck was all that about in the restaurant yesterday?”

I start to recount the day to her in hushed tones. Even though we seem to be alone in the front, you never know who will overhear what, and in a small town like ours, it can seem like even the walls have ears.

“I can’t believe you made out with him in my bathroom.” She rolls her eyes when I finish. “I’m going to have to do some kind of a cleansing in there now. Bad juju!”

“
That’s
the part you can’t believe? In all this mess? Really?”

She laughs. “I’m just saying. That’s not very
Charity-like
behavior.”

I open my mouth to protest, wishing for some wild tale to use as a comeback. But I got nothing.

“Why didn’t you just tell me he was there?” she asks.

“I didn’t know how you’d react. I didn’t want it to be a big scene.
””
”

“What? You thought I’d punch him out or something?” She laughs.

“Or kill him. You do have a lot of sharp tools,” I say, referencing all of her jewelry-making gadgets.

“True,” she says. “Not like I haven’t considered it before.
””
”

“What? Killing him with pliers?”

“No, that would be way too messy.” She winks.

“Do you think I’m making a mistake?” I ask, suddenly serious.

“That depends. What are you doing?” Her eyebrow rises.

“I don’t know.” I sigh, dropping my head into my hands. “I’m just so confused.”

“Well, you know I’m here no matter what you decide. I know you well enough to trust that you will figure this out and make the best choice for you. But I do think you need to talk to James.” She takes my hand and forces me to look at her. “Whether you end up with him or not, he deserves to know the truth.”

As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right.

***

I head home and call James as soon as I get there. He apologizes for not checking in the night before, but apparently playing hooky in the morning led to a pretty late night at work, and he didn’t have a chance to call. He lets me know he is wrapping up at work for the day and can’t wait to see me later tonight for our “mulligan dinner” as he has taken to calling it.

I will never understand golf people.

I agree to meet him in the city so he doesn’t have to drive all the way here to pick me up. I can’t help but think that it will also spare us another awkward car ride back if the night should take a turn. I have a sick feeling, it will. We finalize our plans and get off the phone.

He drops another “I love you” bomb before the call ends, but I had already started to hang up, so I’m hoping he figures I just didn’t hear him.

I guess he will know the truth soon enough….

My face flushes at the thought of it. I’ve never really dated a lot and I have never been the one to end a relationship. Although, once he knows I’ve been seeing Brandon, he’ll probably be the one to actually end the relationship.

That’s just a formality, I suppose.

I try my best to push those thoughts out of my head as I go about getting dressed. I’ll need to leave soon if I want to beat the nasty, Seattle-area traffic.

***

A few hours later I’m sitting across from James. We are seated at a different table, but I can’t shake the déjà vu feeling that hovers around me. He is quite handsome in his business suit, and with the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow. He seems antsy, and I can tell he’s had a long day at the office and is ready to unwind.

He orders an appetizer and a bottle of wine before we really start talking. I try to stop my foot from bobbing under the table, hoping he is too tired to pick up on my nervous energy.

“So, Charity, there is something I wanted to talk about tonight. In the spirit of our clean slate,” he starts, after we finish our small talk.

I inhale sharply and my posture stiffens.

“I want you to know how happy I am that we are moving forward, and I am so looking forward to this summer. But all this talk got me thinking about our future, beyond just this summer.”

I nod. My mouth is dry, and I don’t think I could speak even if I wanted to.

He takes my hands and rubs his thumbs along my wrists. “I know you want to take things slow, and I appreciate that, sweetie, really, I do. It’s just that I need some reassurance that you’re in this for the long haul. I’ve had a moment of clarity and realized that I do want us to get married someday. This rough patch helped me see that. We can take all the time you need, but to me, that would be the end goal.”

I pull back one of my hands and take a gulp of wine.

“James,” I say, barely above a whisper.

He ignores my pleading and plows ahead with his speech, “In light of our clean slate, I would like to take this chance to move forward, not cement things where they are and have this whole conversation again in six months. I’m a proactive man.” He reaches for his pocket.

Oh my gosh….No, no, NO!

He pulls out a small, velvet, fancy box.

I inhale sharply.

He pops the lid open to reveal a ginormous diamond ring. “I thought this might help you make up your mind.”

What is happening? Did he just propose?

I stare at him for a moment, completely flabbergasted by what just happened. Is he insane? A week ago, I bolted from this very same restaurant at the very hint of a proposal.

My gaze shifts back to the ring. Or should I say diamond door knob. It’s gigantic and very sparkly, not really my style, but pretty nonetheless. I wonder if he is hoping to hypnotize me with bling and lull me into saying yes.

“No, no, James.” I reach across the table and snap the lid shut. “This isn’t what I want.”

He releases my other hand and sits back from the table. “Why not? We can get you a different ring, if that’s what you want.” He looks angry now.

“It’s not about the ring, James, it’s about us. We’re not ready. I’m not ready. There’s something I need to talk to you about, actually, I uh—”

He cuts me off before I can figure out how to say what needs to come next. “Charity, you’re being unreasonable. Listen to me. I’m offering you a future here. We can get married and start a life, a real life together. You don’t have to work in that little rinky-dink café making coffee anymore. You can do something with your life!”

My mouth flops open in horror. I feel like he just slapped me across the face. In the entire course of our relationship he has never said anything like that before.

“Rinky-dink? Is that what you really think of me and my life? Wow.”

“You know what I mean,” he says, rolling his eyes like I’m being dramatic.

“No, I don’t. And do you want to know why? Because I don’t know you.”

“Charity, you’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not!” I struggle to keep my voice under control. “I don’t know you, not the real you. Unless you really are just a shallow guy who doesn’t like anything more than golf and expensive dinners with a bunch of rich people you don’t even know! All you talk about is work, what kind of car you want to buy next, and how much money other people make and how they spend it. I don’t care about any of that shit!”

“You’re making a scene,” he hisses under his breath, his eyes nervously darting around the restaurant to see if other people were listening in.

“I don’t care. I don’t know these people, let them think whatever they want of me.”

“We need to leave,” he says, still watching the nearby diners. He reaches up and gestures for the waitress. “We can discuss this elsewhere.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable. I can’t believe you would even
think
that a proposal was appropriate after everything that has happened in the last week. Actually, you wouldn’t if you really knew that was going on.” The last part, I say mostly to myself, but James picks up on it.

“What are you talking about? Why not?” he demands.

I sigh, figuring the bomb has already gone off. What more harm can really be done?

“I’m in love with someone else, James. I am very sorry that I betrayed you, it’s not who I am, but it happened.”

“What!” James reels back. “You’ve been cheating on me?”

I have nothing to say, so I stay silent.

He stuffs the ring back into his pocket. “You know what? Just go. I’ve put up with quite a few of your antics over the course of our relationship, but this exceeds the limit. You’ve humiliated me enough without making an even bigger scene here! I’ll probably never be allowed back as it is.”

I shake my head, stunned that being put on the blacklist at a restaurant is his major concern right now.

“I’ll go, but just a little tip, for your next marriage proposal, it’s not a business merger! You don’t come armed with a diamond ring and a list of pros and cons, when asking someone to spend the rest of their life with you.”

James’ face darkened another shade of red and I could tell he was about to explode again.

Not even chocolate cake could keep me here another minute. I stand and leave the restaurant, without even bothering to look back.

And this time I remember to grab my own coat!