Unbreakable (37 page)

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey.” He turns toward me and responds with a half smile.

He looks as bad as I feel. The dark circles under his eyes are even darker. He looks exhausted. Sitting down on the loveseat next to him, I run my hand over his unshaven face, stopping to run my thumb over his lower lip. His hand stops mine and pulls it away from his mouth.

“When did you get this?” he asks, running his finger across my barely healed tattoo on my inner left wrist. “I noticed it yesterday but forgot to ask,” he says.

“Last week.”

“What does it mean?” he asks, tracing each letter of the script that is barely visible against my skin.

“Unbreakable,” I whisper.

“Unbreakable,” he whispers back, running his fingers back and forth, over and over again across my wrist.

“I finally decided that I can’t let circumstances or events that I have no control over break me,” I offer. “No better reminder than to have it front and center every day where I have to see it and can’t forget it,” I explain. A small smile crosses his face, and he pulls my inner wrist to his lips. He closes his eyes and gently presses small kisses along my wrist and over the tattoo.

“I have to go,” his voice breaks. Clearing his throat, he stands up still holding my hand. Pulling me into a hug, I wrap myself around him.

“I love you,” I whisper in his ear. “Thank you for finding me.”

“I love you too. God, you have no idea how much I love you.”

Pulling away from me, he saunters over to his bag, picks it up, and turns back to me. “I will wait for you. When you are ready to come home, I’ll be there. I will always wait for you.” And that’s when I know there is no one in this world for me other than Gabe Garcia.

“Turn down Beach Avenue,” I direct Matt as I do every shift we work. Driving past her condo has become a ritual for me when we’re on duty.

“Have you talked to her?” Matt asks, his voice masked with sympathy.

“Nope,” I reply abruptly. “Only two more days of you driving my sorry ass past her place,” I reply quietly. “She’s moving back to California.” The patrol car is silent except for the radio broadcasting calls, which Matt has turned the volume down so that it’s almost inaudible.

“Sorry, brother,” Matt says.

“It’s okay. It’s what’s best for her.” Saying those words, even thinking them, is fucking killing me. I keep my attention focused out my window, trying to not get emotional. “She was different,” I say, turning my head to look at Matt.

“I know,” he says, nodding his head in agreement. “I’ve never seen you like this over any woman. She has to be something. I really am sorry.”

“Thanks,” I reply, knowing he’s right. I fuck women. I use them and dispose of them. I don’t care about their feelings, and I certainly don’t fall in love with them. Until, Jess.

“You need to say goodbye to her, man. Don’t let her leave without talking to her,” he says. I listen to him and take his words to heart, but I don’t know if I can stomach seeing her. I don’t let people in, and she is in a place I didn’t know existed.

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

“Do it, man,” he tells me.

“Let’s go eat. I’m starving,” I say, changing the subject and taking my mind off of the one thing that has consumed my every thought for the last three months.

“Hey, big brother,” Lindsay announces as she rounds the corner into the kitchen. I’m sitting at the small table, drinking coffee and reading the latest Sports Illustrated.

“Hey, little sister,” I respond. “You look nice,” I say, looking at her in a little black dress with knee high black leather boots on. Pouring herself a mug of coffee she joins me at the kitchen table.

“Thanks. We’re all taking Jess to lunch for her last day,” she says quietly, looking down at her mug and blowing the steam off of the coffee. “You should meet us,” she says timidly, awaiting my normal tense reaction.

“Nah, have a great time though. You really do look nice,” I say, laying the magazine on the table and taking my mug of coffee with me to the living room.

“Just call her Landon. Text her. Say goodbye to her. Neither of you will talk to me about each other. I’ve never seen you like this,” Lindsay pleads with me, her voice becoming more faint the further away I walk. My throat dries up, and I swallow hard. I’ve honestly never felt like this. All of these emotions are new to me as well.

“We’ll see,” I toss back over my shoulder.

I’ve only ever dealt with losing one person I cared about, my mom. I vowed to never let a woman into my heart to the point where I’d get hurt, but I did. My gut tells me to just let her go, but my heart tells me to say goodbye. The decision is simple really; I only ever listen to my gut, but fuck if my heart isn’t trying to win this battle.

Shoving the last suitcase into the back of my SUV, I slam the door and pray I can still see through the rearview mirror out my back window. Kevin is shipping a few boxes back to me in California that won’t fit in my car. Walking up the sidewalk into the condo to get my purse and lock up, I can’t help but remember what it felt like to walk this same sidewalk three months ago. What a different person I was then. A shell of what I am now.

I have grown immensely moving across the country for an internship, meeting some of the greatest friends I know I’ll ever have, and for the therapy that has helped me forge a path to healing. I know I have a long way to go, but I feel hopeful for my future. I know that my leaving California, on the terms I did, was selfish, and I hurt many people. I’m ready to make amends, but I won’t regret my time here in Wilmington.

Taking one last look around this beautiful condo, I can’t help but wonder what everyone will think when I show up in California. No one knows I’m coming, not even Dad. Gabe and I text and talk daily, working to repair the damage I did by shutting him out, but I needed to make the decision to move home on my own accord. This is about me, not Gabe.

Locking the door to the condo, I place the key under the doormat as Kevin has instructed me. Holding the key to my SUV in my hand, I take one last look at the amazing beach that lies straight ahead. I will miss the sounds and smells of the ocean. It’s become a needed form of therapy for me, to sit on the soft sands of its beaches, and just think.

My heart stops when I see him, leaning against the side of my car. Wearing dark jeans and a tight white t-shirt, his sandy brown hair is messy, and a five o’clock shadow outlines every ridge of this jaw. I can’t help but smile when I hear that sweet Southern accent drawl out, “Hey, baby girl.”

My pace quickens until I’m standing right in front of him. “What are you doing here?” My pulse is racing.

“Wasn’t going to let you leave without saying goodbye.” He smiles at me with his perfect mouth. Reaching out, he pulls me into a firm hug. I will never forget his smell, light, masculine, and comforting. We stand, hugging each other for at least a minute. I can feel his heartbeat against my chest. Finally pulling back, I look into his beautiful blue eyes.

“Thank you for calling Gabe,” I say, my voice finally breaking and tears spilling out from my eyes. “You were right, you know.”

“I’m always right, baby girl,” he says with a chuckle, wiping the tears from under my eyes with the pads of his thumbs.

“I should be thanking you,” he says with his eyes focused intently on mine. “I didn’t know I had the capacity to feel love for anyone, and somehow, you broke down those walls that were barricading my heart. So, thank you.”

“FFL’s?” I ask him.

“FFL’s? What the hell is that?” he asks me, laughing.

“Friends for life,” I say.

“Always. FFL’s.”

“Oh, and hey,” I raise my left arm and flash him my inner wrist. “It means ‘unbreakable.’”

Grabbing my wrist, he presses his lips to the white script tattoo just like Gabe did. Slowly releasing my hand, he moves to open my car door, waiting for me to step in. Tossing my purse over to the passenger side seat, he moves closer so that he can close the door after I get inside. Before I sit down, he wraps his large hand around my upper arm, pulling me toward him. Standing there, just inches from him again, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to my forehead.

“Bye,” I whisper as I pull away from him and get into my car. With a nod, he closes my door. Backing out of my parking spot, I roll down my window.

“Take care of Linds for me.”

“Always have, always will, baby girl. Be safe.” He forces a smile. Memories of Landon will be etched in my heart forever. I will cherish his honesty, trust, and friendship for the rest of my life. With a raised hand, he mouths ‘bye’ to me, and I leave him standing next to his motorcycle, beginning my three day drive back to California.

Time stands still as I make that last turn onto Lawson Street, the street where I grew up between two different homes. Dad’s truck is gone, which means he’s at the fire station—shocker. At this hour, I will go unnoticed. It’s after midnight, so I grab just my purse and small bag with clothes and toiletries. Checking the hanging planter for the house key, I find it exactly where it was left. Some things never change.

Letting myself into the house, I take in the surroundings that I left just over three months ago. Everything seems different here. I feel older, like I’ve been gone much longer. Finding my way down the short hallway in the dark, I open my door to find my bedroom untouched from when I left. Throwing my purse on the white wooden desk, I quickly shower and change into my pajamas. I want to get a few hours of sleep before I drive to the fire station to see my dad.

Waking at six, I actually feel refreshed. Even with a few hours of sleep, I’m excited to go announce my arrival back in California. I pull a short cream dress from my closet that has eyelet cutouts around the neck and sleeve line. Putting the finishing touches on my make-up, I’m out of the house before seven.

My heart is racing, and adrenaline is running through my body, not because I’m nervous to see Dad or Gabe, but because of the stop I need to make first. Driving back from California, I decided this was something I needed to do for me and my healing. I must face my fears and forgive, let go.

Pulling into the small gravel parking lot at Washington Park, the sun is up, casting its bright rays on the green park. Walking the path I used to run, I clutch my phone and car keys in my hand while passing women and men running, just as I did that day. Winding through the park on the paved trail, I find the spot where my life changed so suddenly. No one is around this morning—the irony.