Ignite (36 page)

             
“I don’t even remember the trip I took with Lexi. Every day I was on a different bus, but I wasn’t mentally there. I was constantly revisiting the last day I had with you, how I hurt you by flirting with that guy. I was nowhere near healed when I went back to beg for another chance. It was realizing you’d moved on, and you were happy – that’s what forced me to heal. For all these years I imagined you walking into that apartment and feeling anger that I was gone, but then relief that you wouldn’t have to put up with my bullshit anymore.

             
“I quit school because I didn’t deserve to better myself. I deserved nothing but the worst. So, I waitressed and took meditation classes on the side. I was always trying to keep myself occupied, but it didn’t help until I met Daniel. He hired me, but that first year we became friends and I let slip that I had a problem. He set me up with the best therapist around, and it was the best thing at the time. Dr Shipton was incredible. He taught me to cope with the pain of losing you, and ways to move past the anger I’d built.”

             
I wasn’t even looking at him anymore as I reflected on the last few years. I kept my eyes pointed at a random spot on the rug. “When I was with Daniel… it was the only way I could forget you. Being lost with someone else for even a moment was better than having to feel the hole in my heart at the reminder of what I’d walked away from. He… he’s broken too. What we have… or had… was a simple agreement.” This was hard to talk about, but I knew he wanted and needed to hear it. “We never had a real relationship or anything like that. We’ve just been using each other to forget the bad things for a little while.”

             
“He looked at you like you were more than just an arrangement, Sara.” Jaxon’s voice was startlingly soft.

             
“He offered more. Today.”

             
“And what did you say?”

             
“He told me to wait a few days, but he made me promise to go back to him.”

             
“Someone can’t force you to promise something you don’t want to promise, Sara.”

             
I looked at him despairingly, all cried out. “You’ve been nothing but cold to me, Jaxon. Why on earth would I have stopped to think for a split second that I might have another chance with you? All I’m doing is trying to be content with my life, and if that means being content with Daniel then… then I can’t pass that up.”

             
He opened his mouth to speak when his phone rang. Exhaling in irritation, he pulled it out of his pocket and answered. “What?” I watched him listen intently for a few agonizingly long moments. “Alright. I’m on my way.” He hung up, and shrugged at me, masterfully concealing his face from all emotion. “I gotta go.”

             
“What? Like that?”

             
“I can’t stay.”

             
“This is more important. Isn’t it?”

             
“I can’t stay,” he repeated with finality. That was the end of that.

             
Shocked by the abrupt end to the conversation, I gritted my teeth and shook my head.

             
He looked away from me, put his phone back into his pocket and stood glued in his spot for a few seconds. Then, without even a glimpse in my direction, he left the room, shutting the door sharply on his way out.

I was
disappointed that whatever it was couldn’t have waited until we’d sorted things out. But I didn’t want to make myself feel anymore worthless than I already did. So I turned the lights off and crawled into bed. When my own phone rang a half hour later, I rejected Daniel’s call.

             
I wasn’t going to fool myself. I couldn’t give Daniel what he wanted, not after realizing how deeply in love I still was with Jaxon. I hadn’t moved on from him one bit. That cold, painful admission meant there was no way I could open my heart to anybody else. As I closed my eyes and prayed for sleep to take me, I wondered if I was going to grow old and grey alone; because by how heavily anchored my heart was to Jaxon, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to move on.

*****

The mattress shifted sometime in the middle of the night. Having waited a few agonizingly long hours, I’d given up on hoping he’d return to sleep next to me again. I passed out after an eternity of self-wallowing, and because I was still so damn tired, I couldn’t be entirely sure if the warm arm around my waist was real or a conjured up hallucination.

             
Come morning, I woke up entirely aware of my surroundings. I hastily turned around and my hopes were dashed when I saw the other side was empty and cold. It didn’t even look like he’d slept there. Being the creep that I was, I smelled the pillow and took in his scent that had entrenched itself in the fabric from the other night’s sleep.

             
Feeling moody, I kicked off the covers and got ready to, yet again, get the house done. After changing into another predictable outfit that consisted plainly of jeans and a thin sweater, I went down stairs. Lucinda was in the kitchen drinking a hot cup of coffee, looking groggy and tired, her normal pristine hair in a messy bun as she flicked through the newspaper.

             
“Morning,” I yawned, plopping down next to her.

             
“You’re up early. I haven’t even started on breakfast.” She combed through the tangles of my hair before pausing. I caught her eyes on my neck, and I quickly removed her hand from me.

             
“Don’t bother with breakfast. I’ll pick up something on the way to the house.”

             
“Are you sure?” With an amused smile on her face, she was still staring at my neck even though I’d hurriedly covered it up with my hair.

             
“Yeah, and stop looking there.” Best thing about Lucinda was I could say what I wanted without worrying about it sounding rude. We’d always had that open line of communication where all dirty laundry was aired out without a care.

             
“Daniel sure got busy fast,” she chuckled, looking back down at her newspaper.

             
“It was from Jaxon, actually,” I admitted, holding my breath in case her reaction was ugly. Yeah, dirty laundry could be aired, but that didn’t mean every single thing was alright.

             
Her eyes returned to mine, and for a while she was motionless. Her mouth was hanging open, but no words were coming out.

             
“Okay then,” she finally said, taking a sip of her coffee. “
Jaxon
sure got busy fast.” Then she smiled to herself and continued reading the newspaper. What? Was that all she was going to say?

             
“You’re not upset?”

             
Without looking up, she asked, “Why would I be upset?”

             
“Nothing might come of it – whatever happened between him and me the other night, I mean.”

             
“I’m sure you’ll both figure that out.”

             
“I hurt him badly, Lucinda. He told me last night what he’s been through.”

             
This had her looking up, and a shift in her demeanour turned the atmosphere into a serious one. “He told you? Everything?”

             
I nodded. “Yeah.”

             
“And what did you say?”

             
“I’m still a little speechless. I wish I’d… I’d called you. I sent my friend to call you all those years ago, and you told her he was working away and that he was happy. I couldn’t face you myself after I treated him so badly.” My stomach was in knots while I explained this to her. “I’m sorry. I should have called you myself and then I would have known where he was and I would have been there for him.”

             
“Oh, fuck.” She put a hand over her face and shook her head. “I was telling everyone that because he didn’t want people knowing where he was. If I’d known it was you...”

             
“It was my fault. Everything always is.”

             
“Would you stop this pity party?” she snapped, sighing in irritation. “Fuck’s sake, Sara, you’re playing the damsel in distress and it’s pissing me off.”

             
I gulped in surprise.

             
“What happened to that boisterous, strong girl I helped raise? The one that opened her mouth to anybody speaking to her badly? You’ve gotten all soft, darlin’. The years haven’t been kind on your self-esteem. You need more Lucinda in your life and I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

             
“I’m not who I was before. Everything about that person was wrong–”

             
“You were young,” she interrupted, looking me dead in the eye. “You were still learning, and there may have been elements about yourself that you didn’t like, but that didn’t mean you were bad as a whole. You were a terrific girl. Smart, happy, outgoing and Jaxon made you fierce and defensive to anyone that got in your way. That’s the Sara I know. You’ve back peddled. Whether you admit it or not, you need us. I can certainly speak for Jaxon when I say he needs you too. We all need each other.” She leaned over and wiped a fallen tear on my cheek.

             
“I shouldn’t have said some things to you,” she said quietly, endearment and regret in her tired face. “When Jaxon told me of your sudden change, I pieced it together myself. It was after that final Christmas we’d spent together, when I told you to look after yourself in case you got hurt. I was wrong to say those things to you. I was just scared because I didn’t realize the depth of Jaxon’s affections, Sara, and I’m so sorry to have done that to you.” Her voice broke at the end.

             
I was fully crying now, and so was she. “I took it too seriously,” I sputtered out. “I was already traumatised by what I grew up around. My father and my mother and how dependent she was of him, and how he’d up and leave her and she’d be destroyed by it. Then you told me about what happened to you, and how Jaxon’s father left you broken hearted, and I got so scared that it would happen to me too because everyone that was meant to be my parent figure had been dependent on men who fucked them over.”

             
“I know, I know, but Sara, Jaxon wasn’t like that, and you knew that, but I filled your head with the wrong thoughts. I can’t help but wonder what life would have been like if I’d just shut my mouth.”

             
“The way I was to him, it would have come out eventually with or without your talk. None of it was your fault, Lucinda. I had a lot of growing up to do.”

             
“I hate that I missed out on five years of this.” She wrapped her arms around me and brought me into a tight embrace. “Whatever happens, you need to know I’ll support you no matter what. Jaxon’s angry, and he’s different, but I believe the old him is still living somewhere inside. He loves you. I know he does.”

             
I didn’t know whether that was true anymore, but I liked hearing it. We held each other for good while, and when she dropped me off at the house, I walked in there feeling like a load was off my shoulders. I never thought she’d forgive me for the things I did to her son, and for blocking her all this time. It was like breaking out of my chains having a piece of happiness restored in me.

             
I made my way up the stairs, to the final dreaded task. I walked into what used to be my bedroom and stared at the four large stacked boxes against the wall. I slowly made my way over and eyed the tape that had secured every box was shut tightly over the flaps.
Well, can’t open the boxes since I didn’t bring any scissors along. Might as well just do it tomorrow.

             
I sat down on the ground beside the stack and stared vacantly ahead. Then I pulled out my phone and decided to harass Lexi knowing she was on her way to work. She was happy to hear from me, but I dodged every personal question she asked, skilfully steering every topic away so that we were talking mainly about her. She got the gist that I wasn’t going to be open about what was happening just yet, and though she was pissy about it, my Lexi wasn’t a pusher… that much.

             
She was in the middle of work and told me she’d ring me later. When I got off the phone with her, I went through my limited contacts list, of other friends I’d gone out with every now and then. There was no one I wanted to talk to, though.

             
Well, there was Daniel. I hesitated over the call button when I pressed his name, but after many minutes of goading myself, I clicked it and set the phone to my ear.

             
He picked up barely a ring later. “Hey, you. I tried calling you last night on my way back.”

             
“I know. I sort of avoided you.”

             
“I figured.”

             
Silence.