The Fall (24 page)

“He’s so much more than that.”

I noticed her demeanor change and asked, “What? What’s wrong?”

“Things are too good, you know? It’s a miracle I found him, or actually, he found me. Do you know what his first words to me were?”

Feeling the guilt associated with not knowing a damn thing, I quickly remedied by saying, “Tell me everything.”

“He introduced himself to me on campus as the man who was going to marry me.” She laughed, her eyes distant with the memory. She told me how their whirlwind romance started and how he was dating a woman who was in medical school that had attended her first class when she literally ran into him. He had watched her squirm under his stare the entire three hour lecture before professing to her in a crowded hallway that she was it for him.

“I thought he was insane,” she said thoughtfully, “but then I got to know who he really was and...God, sorry, I’m babbling.”

“As you should, Rose, it’s a really cool story. Please forgive me for not being a better sister.”

“We are both so busy. One day, we will get to all of it,” she promised and I nodded. “How about tonight I stay here with you and we do just that?”

“No way, this is your engagement party. I’m sure your fiancée wants to take you home and ravage you. How about next week? Just you and me, okay?”

“Deal.” She smiled. “So I see Dean and Josh are both here,” she remarked, raising her perfect strawberry blonde brow at me. “What are you going to do?”

“Drink,” I said, clinking my champagne glass against hers.

“So, with Dean, anything there?”

“Too much.” Admitting the truth to my sister felt good. I was done with denial half an hour ago with Dean’s admission. I had been running from the truth long enough.

“And Josh?” she asked carefully.

I shook my head no. I’d been fighting that inevitability long enough as well.

“Hey, beautiful,” Grant called from inside the door. “Come on, I have something for you.” We both stood up and I gave her a brief hug before she joined Grant. I followed them both in. I looked to see everyone gathered around. A piece of canvas sat on top of my father’s model table, which now sat on our kitchen table. My father encouraged Rose to unveil it and we all waited silently, excited for her reaction. Our brother Paul stood with his arms wrapped around Hilary with excitement in his eyes as Rose jumped in reaction.

“Oh, Grant,” she exclaimed, looking at the model of her future home. “It’s perfect.”

“We are going to build it for you, sweetheart,” my father said, meeting Paul’s eyes with a nod, his pride in his ability to make her dream home a reality. Rose had mentioned that Grant owned some land they were planning to build a house on. She threw herself into my father’s arms as she cried happy tears, then my father made a toast. Everyone in the room clinked glasses, and I felt arms slide around me as Josh apologized sweetly in my ear.

“I’m sorry. I love you,” he said, kissing my cheek, his warmth radiating from him. I nodded as I looked up to see Dean watching us. His expression was pained as he looked on at Rose. He stood still for several seconds before setting his glass down on the counter and walking out of the room. Feeling the need to go to him, I excused myself from Josh, just as my father recruited him to bring out the cake.

“Dean.” I stopped him at the door.

“Please apologize for me,” he said, opening the door then closing it behind him. I opened it, stepping out and grabbing his arm. “I can’t fucking take this,” he said as he faced me, his lips coming in hard and fast. I pushed him away with a fierce “No.”

He stumbled away, the hurt on his face ripping into me.

“It’s not right. You can’t just throw a fit when you don’t get what you want. You are better than this.”

“You’re right,” he said, fumbling in his pocket for his keys. “It won’t happen again.” I nodded as he took a step forward. “But don’t think for one second that I’m giving up on you. I’ll be patient, and wait for you to do...whatever it is you need to do.”

“I’m doing the right thing, Dean,” I argued.

“Bullshit,” he said, cupping the back of my head and forcing me to face him. “You are cowering away in your corner with a safe bet. You don’t want to hurt him, I understand that, but you are only going to hurt him in the long run.”

“You’re pretty confident about that, aren’t you, you smug bastard? You’re so sure I’ll come running back to you.” He dropped his hand and closed his eyes tightly.

“
I’m
running back to
you,
Dallas, can’t you see that?”

“Took you long enough,” I said sarcastically.

He backed me up against the door, his frustration rolling off of him.

“Does it feel good to see me like this? Completely fucking ruined that he gets to touch you when I can’t? That I’ll go home tonight out of my mind with the fact that he gets to have your smiles, your laugh, and your body? Because if having me like this is what you are aiming for, I’m there.” I shook my head no furiously as he leaned in closer.

“I’m not intentionally trying to make you feel any certain way. You damn men and your egos. He’s my
boyfriend
. You have no right to feel this way or to guilt me for being his.” I exhaled as he pushed away from the door, backing away slowly. “I’ve explained this to you repeatedly. You put yourself in this situation and have given me nothing but hell about it ever since.”

“Maybe,” he said, “and maybe I’m finally doing what you wanted me to years ago. I’ll keep fighting for you, Dallas, until you realize that I’m not going anywhere.”

“Looks like it to me,” I said as he clasped his keys in his hands.

“Seriously,” he said, as if I was the one being completely unreasonable.

“Get your entitled ass back into that house, spend the evening with my family—a family who embraced you as one of their own for half your life, might I add—and congratulate my sister. Right now, you’re acting like an ass. You don’t deserve my loyalty or theirs by pulling this crap.”

He looked shocked as he absorbed my words.

“You have no right to touch me, Dean, or to ask me to leave my ‘safe bet,’ or anything else for that matter. You have no right to judge my life or how I live it. I asked you to be a friend, not put yourself in direct competition with the man who’s held my hand through the last year of my life. He deserves my loyalty and faithfulness. You want to make me believe you, that you’re sincere about your feelings for me, fine. I’m giving you that chance now.”

I walked back into the house and downed a glass of champagne, trying to drown out the heat I felt from our exchange. No matter how I felt about my relationship with Josh, I owed it to him to stay faithful for as long as it lasted. I had already blown it by returning Dean’s kiss.

I joined Josh in the kitchen and passed out several slices of cake as Dean strolled in through the back door with his arm around Paul. They seemed to be on the tail end of a serious discussion. I gave Dean a questioning look and he answered with a wink and a knowing look and turned his attention back to Paul. I smiled slowly.

He came back.

The last few hours of the party played out smoothly. I watched as my sister and her fiancé said their farewells to the guests as they made their way out. Dean made it a point to be the last to say goodbye, and I couldn’t help but smile at him as he gave me a small amount of attitude with his curt goodbye. He even went as far as shaking Josh’s hand. Josh reluctantly took it, the unspoken promise of a good ass kicking lingering between them both. I pulled Josh back, wished Dean a good night, and noted his eyes brushing over our clasped hands.

It’s always a whirring sound. They sound nothing like trains like I’d been told. It was silent except for the never-ending whipping of the wind that surrounded me. In this dream, there were three of them circling and growing closer. I’d been in this dream before a thousand times. I shouldn’t be afraid, but still I was terrified. I was in a field with absolutely no shelter. Three cylindrical clouds destroying everything in their path. The horizon was filled with light as the tornadoes mocked the peaceful skyline with their overbearing and destructive presence. The space between them and I was vast, and yet I could feel the wind lashing my face. I felt their eminence. They were coming...They were coming for me. Their path was clear by the way they surrounded me. The field’s blades started thrashing erratically as the fear set in. I screamed but nothing came out. I felt helpless, hopeless. They were coming ...

I woke up choking and gasping, a scream lodged in my throat. I turned to see Josh sleeping peacefully as I tried desperately to catch my breath. I let the tears fall silently as the feeling of complete despair stayed with me.

Tornadoes. Always the fucking tornadoes.

I evened out my breathing then grabbed the sheet from the bed, wrapping it around me. It was not always the same scenario but it was so close there was no mistaking the dream and its effect on me remained the same.

Pure devastation.

I used to think it was a blessing to remember my dreams, especially the ones where I took flight. They were exhilarating. Now I looked at the recollection of them as more as a curse. They were vivid and some of the time they hurt and could ruin an entire day of my life. Today in particular, not all the soap and water in the world could wash away the sick feeling that lingered.

I knew exactly where that dream stemmed from.

I was covered in sweat. I looked through Josh’s blinds as the sun peeked through the buildings of downtown Dallas. I made my way to his shower, staying as quiet as possible. I didn’t want him to see me this way.

I heard the shower door open and greeted Josh with a cold-shouldered “Hi.”

“Good morning,” he murmured wrapping his arms around my waist. I pulled away from him and immediately felt him stiffen behind me. I’d denied him sex after the party and blamed a headache for the reason for my early retreat to bed. But as of this morning, I was done lying.

“Dallas, please let me touch you,” he demanded, turning me to face him. I haven’t seen you in weeks. I miss you. I need to feel you.”

“Josh, we need to talk,” I said, pulling myself out of the shower and grabbing a towel. I looked to see his face fall as he followed me out.

“It’s him. It’s Dean, isn’t it?” Josh said, wrapping a towel around his waist.

“No, it’s us,” I said softly, unable to look at him as he stood in front of me.

“What is it, Dallas? I’m a patient man, but I can only handle so much. I saw the way you looked at him at that party. And what in the hell is wrong with us?” he asked, his voice growing more impatient.

“I’m sorry. This just isn’t going to work,” I offered as I turned to get my clothes.

“No fucking way, Dallas. You don’t get to pull this crap on me and walk away.” He rounded the corner and caught my arm.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking a lot about us and I just don’t see a future,” I said, shoving my legs into my scrubs as quickly as humanly possible.

“This isn’t about our future. No,
this
is about some fucking guy that wants his way back into your pants and has got you confused,” he argued, pulling my shirt away from me as I tried to put it on. I tugged at the end and we ended up in a small tug-of-war, which I lost. I took a seat on the bed in defeat as I stared at my feet.

“Look at me, Dallas,” he commanded, his voice hoarse with emotion. “If you’re going to rip my fucking heart out, the least you can do is look at me,” he reasoned. I looked up to see his face filled with hurt. “I was going to ask you to be my wife.”

I looked at him evenly. “And what would I have said, Josh? I already told you I didn’t want to move in with you. Why would you even think about marriage?”

He picked up the clock that was next to his bed and threw it against the wall.

“I knew this was going to happen the night I saw you at that fucking restaurant!” He fumed around me, pacing back and forth as I stared at the now ruined drywall.

“Well, I didn’t,” I said softly. “This has nothing to do with him and everything to do with the way I feel about you.”

“Bullshit, stop fucking lying to me. Did you fuck him?” he asked, standing over me.

“Of course not!” I barked back, taking my shirt from the floor and putting it on. “And this is not about him. This is about what you deserve and it’s not me. I can’t give you marriage. I can’t even give you half of that,” I said, trying to reason my way through it.