Truce or Dare (Sweet Fortuity Book 1) (2 page)

* * *

I
t happened two minutes later
, when I was least expecting it. On hindsight that was stupid, because I was back, and there was no 'least expecting', because I needed to expect. I needed to be prepared for
everything
. I knew it was going to happen, eventually, one way or another.

I was agonizing between a chocolate-flavored slice and a coffee-flavored one, when I heard his voice.

"There's a fucking long line. I can't yet. Give me fifteen."

I froze on the spot, the soft rumble of his voice washing over me.

I knew that voice. I knew it so well, I dreamed about it. I also knew I didn't even have to look to know it was him.

There was a donut shop, a bakery, a cookies and cupcakes patisserie, a few more shops for savories, and of all the places he chose to eat something for a snack, he came here.

Wonderful.

If I left now, it would just draw attention to me. If I looked back, it would also draw attention to me. As much as possible, I wanted to be invisible. I wasn't prepared for this right now. So I stood stiffly as I waited in line.

This was what happened when I got out of the house to eat cake. I imagined meeting him again in at least twenty different scenarios, and none of them involved being in a line to buy freaking cake.

Thank you God for shades. My hair was back to my original color now, a few shades darker than it was years ago. That probably added to the obscurity. The only thing that was missing was a hat.

I mentally calculated the places to buy some sort of cap that I could use that didn’t resemble anything I’d owned. There should be a clothing store two streets over–

"Sherry! Been a while," a voice cried out my name in delight.

Ellen. She looked ecstatic, flashing me a wide, toothy grin.

She was a neighbor's daughter, one I used to see all the time. She was super smart, and as far as I knew, she frequented the library, and was always in the company of a stack of books. She must've been approaching her senior year in high school. She had thick glasses on, but that only added to her charm.

Right now she wasn't charming.

She just called my name like I was across the street, and not, say, in the same room.

I grimaced. "Thanks for blowing my cover."

She didn't look the slightest bit apologetic. Her eyes roamed behind me and squinted a little. She whistled. "Hot stuff looking your way, eight o'clock."

I closed my eyes in defeat. How the heck could I escape this? "Couldn't you have called me Juliet?"

She stifled a laugh. "I'm sure we can work something out next time. What would you like?"

"Umm… Which is more popular, your coffee or choco one?" I indicated the slices on the first row.

"Hmm. I'd say coffee, but the choco one's pretty awesome, I must say. There's also a salted caramel one, but that's a personal favorite."

It turned out that the coffee one trumped all others. I eagerly took my slice and paid, thanking her.

Spotting the exit, I was about to leave, my steps quickening, when I heard footsteps behind me. Seconds later, a hand was on my shoulder, startling me into stopping.

Now would be the perfect time for the ground to swallow me up. I dreaded what was coming.

Why me?

"Sherry.”

I winced at the way he’d said it. Gone was his nickname for me, the easy familiarity and affection, and the subtle change on his inflection when he said my name.

Okay. I wasn't prepared for this. I was never going to be prepared for this. But somehow, I made myself turn around to look at him.

How do you say hi to someone whose heart you crushed?

"Chase," I acknowledged. I slowly managed to look up at him, saw his glittering eyes, and quickly averted my own, focusing instead on the slope of his shoulders. He had nice shoulders.

Shit.

I looked at the chair behind him. Chairs were good. Chairs were safe.

"You're back." There was nothing soft in the way he spoke. Each word was clipped, like little cuts that dug deeper with every word.

"Yes. Just today.” I kept my face even.

He took a step forward, closer this time. "I'd like to say welcome back, but you know I wouldn't mean it."

He took one more step closer, close enough so he could lean a little closer to my ear, and no one could hear. "So for old times' sake, gonna say hi." The iciness of his voice chilled me, his look stony as he moved back.

"Hi," I replied back weakly.

Then he took another step, walking completely past me, all the way out.

I didn't look back.

But I had a feeling, deep in my gut, neither did he.

Gem was buried that Saturday.

I didn’t cry.

I wasn’t sure why exactly. I just knew I was feeling numb. Like it was happening to someone else, not to me, and I was watching as each moment unfolded.

Gem. Her warm hugs. Her teasing and matchmaking. Playing Scrabble on a warm summer day in the porch, and promising a rematch, after I'd lost twice. She was a dreamer, while dreams to me were fleeting remnants of hope, so removed from reality. She was a firm believer of true love, and how it ran deep. She always believed in me and him and what we had, even long after I stopped, because the thought was too painful.

There was the shame that I didn’t stay. She wanted me to stay, she told me as much. Chase and I could fix this, she said.

Had she thought I abandoned her too, the way people back here did? I thought back to our last conversation, when I told her about my last signing. No, not Gem. When I lost everything, she kept me grounded. She was proud of me.

When I was nine, I took a post card from one of her drawers. To my nine-year-old self, it looked shiny and pretty. I misplaced it, and was scared to approach her when I knew it was important to her. She loved collecting stamps and post cards from everywhere she’s been. I always suspected she knew, but she never said anything. I never told her that. Why did I never tell her?

When my mom seemed lost in her own world, grandma picked me right up, and read to me my first novel as I fell asleep;
The Princess Bride
. I’ve developed my love of literature and reading ever since.

Why did I leave? Was I poison to all the relationships I’ve had? I felt like I kept making a trail of careless decisions– I just didn’t know where that left me.

* * *

I
don’t think
I really talked to anyone after. I don’t think I was capable of it if I tried. People came up to me to give me a hug, and their condolences. They loved her and respected her. And whether they felt that way about me too or not, it didn’t matter. That alone was enough.

I found I didn’t have it in me to be snippy to Matilda. I couldn’t find anger or disappointment, and so I didn’t have the right words to give anyone.

Chase gave me a wide berth. If he thought it unusual that I didn’t speak, he didn’t say anything. But I took it for what it was, and I was grateful for it.

* * *

I found that after the service, with the days that followed, I couldn’t write anything. It didn't bleed into my writing, but to everything else.

Perhaps I was scared to open myself up in that way. Or maybe it was the sudden anger that was boiling inside, waiting to be unleashed on some poor unfortunate soul— I was determined not to get there.

I was inconsolable. In other words, I was a complete mess. The worst thing was, I didn’t know how to deal with it, and I don’t think the people around me knew how to either.

At the end of another day, I dropped down in bed.

With my door slightly ajar, in the room next to mine, Coldplay’s ‘Paradise’ was playing.

Haley. She was playing it for me.

I shut my eyes and let myself drift off

* * *

After nearly a week, it was as if something in me resurfaced.

The room, previously my sanctuary and safety blanket felt cramped, and I felt the sudden need to go out. It didn’t matter where, as long as it was anywhere that wasn’t here.

I was a morning person, so it was pretty rare for me to run evenings. Today, I felt that I needed the extra distraction.

So I got changed, put on my trainers, and got outside where I could finally breath.

* * *

I just finished my run and was heading towards the door, when I heard a laugh erupt from the living room. The sound made me freeze just in front of their door.

Wait a minute…We had company?

Feeling a little like a spy, I ducked underneath a tree branch and peeked at their velvet curtain, pulled over just slightly.

And as I crouched, concealed by the trees, I had a glimpse of one of the visitors, and I started to panic.

Okay. Damn.

Double damn, he was here. I paced a little on their front yard, going back and forth.

I blew a breath out.

Option one– make a run for it.

Option two– sneak away, pretending they don’t see me.

Option three– say hi.

Well I knew what was never going to happen, because I would never be ready for him anytime this century.

Which only left me with the first two.

I was careful to twist the knob and open the door so I didn't make any noise, and did the same with shutting the door. The voices were louder this time, more animated. Something about a trip to Europe was being discussed in the background. Weary, I didn't feel up to dinner at all. Carefully removing my trainers, I placed them in the rack. I tried to sneak past the hallway, keeping my footsteps quiet. I came to a halt when Haley called my name.

Damn it.

I thought with something as important as meeting my ex-boyfriend, she would've at least let me know. Considering what our past was, I’d only hoped to avoid him.

“Sherry," a familiar voice drawled. I closed my eyes, hearing his deep, rough voice. It still affected me the same way. Why had I thought it would sound any different? “Glad you finally joined us. Have a good run?”

It was one thing to see him, it was entirely another to share the same space with him for something as long as dinner.

There he stood, devastatingly handsome, much unchanged. He wore a faded shirt and jeans, looking right at home.

I smiled tightly. "Yes, I did.”

I didn't think I had it in me to argue or to be snappy. But somehow, seeing him, it brought back an urge to do just that. It all rushed back to me, the hurt of the rejection, and losing him.

There was a quiet and deadly look to his eye that blazed with emotion, too much I didn't want to name.

I excused myself and mumbled something about taking a shower.

My emotions were a mess. Gemma was gone. The truth just began to sink in. No more weekly calls. No more baked goods that I could never replicate. I could've stayed. I should've stayed. I only wanted a little space and instead I lost what precious time I could've had with her. I didn’t need him complicating things by telling me what I already knew.

When I came down, people were already getting seated for dinner.

Chase, his brother Jake, Wes, Haley, and Paula were there.

It didn’t escape my notice that Kate hadn’t made it, and I couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of disappointment. I hated it, because I knew I had no right to it.

The only seat left by the time I made it to the table was the one next to Chase. Eyes narrowing suspiciously, I scanned my eyes around the table, but everyone seemed to be avoiding my gaze.

I sat in awkward, strained silence. The kind of feeling when you walk into a room of strangers, the moment you step in and every conversation seemed to halt, and you just know they were talking about you.

I got the same feeling. I felt, and occasionally caught glances in my direction, like I was being judged. I thought I was over it, but after everything, all the glances felt like scrapes over a raw wound.

He was right next to me, but he wasn't at all. I don't think anything could have cut so deeply than the silence, the feeling of an invisible wall dividing us both. We may as well have not been in the same room. He made no further effort to engage me in conversation, instead asking his brother some questions about his work recently. I felt the distance keenly, and it reminded me of a time when I had all his attention.

As if sensing the tension between us, Wes grabbed a bottle of red wine and poured it in his glass and refilled the others.

"Sherry, I heard your latest book did well again. Congrats," he said, bring up the glass and taking a sip. All of a sudden, all the eyes on the table went to me.

"Thanks," I murmured, suddenly feeling very conscious of all the attention.

"Congrats, Sherr," Haley said with a dimpled smile, and a couple of congratulations echoed throughout the table.

"How long are you staying for?" Wes asked curiously. The unspoken implication of the question bothered me, more than I let show.

“Two, three weeks."

“Cool. We need to have some sort of reunion,” he suggested. A faint smile touched his face.

I needed a reunion like I needed a bullet in my foot. Which meant, not at all.

* * *

I
needed to escape
.

I remembered why I didn’t want to stay, and one of the reasons was sitting right next to me.

I put on a smile the whole time, nodding when appropriate. After most were finished with their meals, sinking into conversation, I decided I wasn’t going to stick around. Giving an apology and mumbling something about being tired, I pushed my chair back, and stepped out.

I was ready to head upstairs, when Chase called out my name, Wes quickly following at his heels.

Chase strode towards me, while Wes stayed back, giving us some privacy.

We both stood there for a while, measuring each other.

Then he broke his gaze and looked away, his expression guarded.