Chapter Thirty

My phone buzzes.

Another text from Rath.

I don’t even bother looking at this one. I know what it’s going to do. It’s just going to weaken me, make me sad over everything I lost, and make me cry once again.

That’s the vicious cycle I’ve been going through all week. Get a text from him, read it, cry. Over and over and over again.

It’s gotten to the point that I’ve had a constant headache from crying, and it won’t go away. That’s why I’m lying in bed on a Saturday afternoon rather than doing anything.

When I arrived at my parents’ house, they didn’t even ask what I was doing there. Grandma had called and explained everything. They helped me carry my things to my childhood room and then let me be by myself. The next day, my mom brought me some of her famous blueberry buckle. I had a small bite but that was it. That night, my dad brought me soup. I had a few spoonfuls.

And it’s been like that all week. I haven’t really emerged from my room, only here and there. My parents have come to talk to me, play cards with me, keep me company, but they haven’t pushed me. They know the immense pain I’m going through. They know I’m hurt from my grandma’s lie, but they also know I’m devastated by Rath.

How could I not be?

I thought he loved me. I believed he did. I thought he cared for me, but he didn’t. He cared about his own agenda and used me as a tool to better the outlook of himself, something I never would have expected from him.

And the worst thing of it all is I really believed him. All the things he said to me, the way he looked me in the eyes when he was deep inside of me. It was so real.

Even now, with his texts, they feel real, like he truly needs me in his life, but how can I possibly believe him? He’s never shared anything with me, he’s never let me know the real him, the vulnerable side of him. Am I just supposed to believe everything he’s texting me now? When I’ve never heard him say anything like it before?

No. I can’t.

Sighing, I turn toward the door just as there’s a knock on it. My mom cracks the door open and asks, “Can I come in?”

I nod.

She must be frightened as she walks in, because this is the first time she’s come into the room and I’m not crying.

“Are you okay, honey?”

I shrug. “Not really, just numb, but I’m sure that’s normal.”

She rests her hand on my side. “You’re taking this harder than what Chris did.”

“Yeah, I know. Chris didn’t make me feel half the things Rath did.”

Cautious because I’m talking, my mom says, “You love him?”

And just like that, tears fill my eyes and they pour down my cheeks.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

I wipe them away and sit up in my bed, pressing my back to the headboard. “No, it’s okay. It was bound to happen again. I can’t seem to stop it.”

“Has he text you today?”

I nod. “Of course. He texts me every day.”

“What does it say this time?”

Forgetting my boycott on the texts, I open it up an read it out loud. “Remember the time we were Team Lemon Curdies and you kept shouting obscenities about penises to me?” I snort, and it comes out all bubbly and snotty from crying. “I wish I could replay that night all over again, but this time, not shy away from telling you how I really felt in that moment.”

I set my phone down and take a deep breath.

“Penises?” my mom questions, trying to lighten the mood.

“We were playing Pictionary. He was drawing a cannon but what he really drew was a penis that was blasting everywhere.”

“Oh dear.” My mom covers her mouth and laughs.

“I was stuck on the male genitalia, he thought he was drawing a cannon blast, so it was a horrible combination, but we had a good laugh about it. That night I found out he was attracted to me. He told me on the balcony.”

“And was that before or after your grandma told you she was sick?”

“Before,” I say quietly.

Exhaling, my mom takes my hand in hers and says, “I know you’re hurting, honey, and everything that happened to you this week has been hard, but I think you need to look past the fake engagement for a second and think back to all the moments you had with him before then. You might be surprised to learn that his intentions weren’t just to be unveiled at the wedding, but to grow closer to you.”

“But if that were the case, how could he possibly do that to me, if he was interested in me?”

“Men work in mysterious ways, honey. They think they’re doing the right thing, when in reality, they’re being idiots.” I chuckle again. “Your father has been an idiot far too many times to count. He’s hurt me, I’ve hurt him, but we also love each other very much, and I can’t imagine my life without him, so we work out our differences. It might be hard at the moment but living a life without each other would be so much harder.” She forces me to look at her. “Do you think living your life without Rath is going to be easy?”

I shake my head. “No, it’s already overwhelming me. I dream about him, I yearn for his touch, for his hold.”

“Then why don’t you text him back?”

“Because, Mom. I don’t want to be a secret. A woman who wears a man’s ring, but never spends time with his friends. Whose parents don’t even know I exist. I don’t want to go back to someone who can’t tell me a simple thing about his past. If I’d had an inkling about Vanessa and who she was, we probably wouldn’t be in this position. But I tried. I tried many times to get him to give me more of his past and he wouldn’t.” I shake my head. “I might be in love with him, but I refuse to be with someone who only gives me the first layer of their heart and not the whole thing.”

She solemnly nods. “I can understand that, but I also don’t want you to miss out on something so amazing because you’re projecting a past relationship on the newest one.” She stands and gives my hand a pat before leaving my room.

I slouch back in my bed and pull the covers up over my shoulders.

Projecting a past one on the current one?

I don’t think that’s what I’m doing.

Then again, if Chris had told me how he was feeling rather than lie to me, I never would have been left at the altar. Have I been badgering Rath for information so I’m not hurt again?

Guess it really doesn’t matter, because he hurt me anyway.

Knock. Knock.

“It’s open,” I call out, drinking a cup of coffee that my dad brought upstairs for me. It’s my last day here. Tomorrow, I told myself, I’ll go back to work and put on a strong façade. I’m already nauseated thinking about returning, but I know I can’t hide away forever either. I had my week, now I need to strap my heels back on and get back to work.

The door creaks open and I roll my head to the side to see my grandma walk into my room.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, internally cursing my parents for allowing her to come up here.

“I came to steal some of your childhood clothes.” She rolls her eyes and makes herself comfortable on my bed. “Why do you think I’m here? To apologize.”

“Well, I don’t accept, so take your fake illnesses and leave.”

“It’s cute that you think your snappy attitude is going to send me on my way. I’ve known you your entire life. It didn’t work when you were a baby, or a teenager, and it’s not going to work now. I am your grandmother and you’re going to listen to me.”

“That’s right,” I shoot back. “You’re my grandma, which means you’re supposed to protect me, take care of me, teach me all your wisdom, not deceive me.”

“And that’s what I was doing. I was protecting you.”

“Protecting me from what?” I scoff.

“From making a giant mistake and not ever letting yourself love again.”

“Wh-what are you talking about?” I ask, feeling the burn of her eyes penetrate the shield I haphazardly thrust between us.

“Three years, Chuckie. It’s been three years since you even looked at another man. And during those three years, I saw you coil inside yourself. I watched you shy away from any romantic involvement, and I watched you mourn a relationship for far too long, a relationship that in the end, didn’t have the kind of connection you deserve. And then I saw you with Rath.” She shakes her head. “It was none of my business to get involved, I understand that, but I also couldn’t take it anymore. And I will tell you the same thing I told him—”

“You spoke with him?”

She nods her head. “I went to his apartment yesterday and I’ll tell you this, Chuckie, if that boy was playing you and using you, he never would have looked the way he did.”

Playing with a piece of lint on my comforter, I ask, “He looked bad?”

“Chuckie, he had frosting in the corner of his mouth and in his hair.”

Oh God . . . I try to hold back the smile, but I can’t help it. I chuckle and bury my face in my hands, letting the giggles take over. Rath and his pastries combined with the way he nervously pushes his hand through his hair all the time, it was bound to get him someday.

“He had pastry in his hair?”

“Yeah, it was humbling to see him like that, to say the least.”

That makes me feel a little better and gives me a bout of confidence. I need to go to work tomorrow.

“So, what did you say to him?”

“That on my birthday, I saw something special between the two of you. Not only could he not take his eyes off you, even when he was talking to me, but I saw the yearning in your eyes, and I knew you’d never do anything about it. I knew despite the feelings you were developing for him, you would hide them, never letting them grow and blossom, and after three years of watching you live a dark life, I couldn’t do it anymore. You’re my best friend, my girl.” She tears up and grabs my hand, I let her take it. “And I want you happy. I want you to have all the happiness. Yes, I went about it all wrong, but I also knew I needed to do something drastic to get you to move the needle to moving on. Did it work? Yes. But was it wrong? Incredibly. And I will always be sorry for worrying you and putting you through such emotional trauma, but am I sorry for doing it?” She shakes her head. “No, because it brought you two together, it made you see what you could have, what you should have. It gave you the courage to let yourself feel again, to let yourself love again.”

Tears form in my eyes and I take a deep breath, watching my connection with my grandma and I say, “I love him, Grandma. I love him so much.”

“I know, sweetie.” She pulls me into a hug and once again, tears cascade down my cheeks and onto her cream sweater.

“I wasn’t supposed to fall for him. I was supposed to get my life started up again, not fall for my boss.”

“Life is a tricky thing. It does what it wants, and I’d be sad to see you let this opportunity go because your scarred heart isn’t willing to heal.”

I pull away and wipe at my cheeks.

“I don’t know, Grandma.”

She squeezes my hand and says, “Just give it some thought. Don’t shut him out immediately, okay?”

I nod and take a deep breath. “Did you bring me anything?”

“What do you mean?”

“To make it up to me. Did you bring anything . . . like your famous sugar cookies?”

Chuckling, she stands from my bed and goes to the hallway where she brings a container of cookies and sets them on my lap. “All for you. Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

I shake my head. “Not yet. I can only tolerate you right now.” I point my finger at her and I say, “I swear though, if you ever try a stunt like that again, you will be seeing an early grave and I’ll be digging it. Got it?”

She nods.

I take a cookie out and bite into it, letting the sweet icing soothe my soul. “You’re not forgiven, and it’s going to take some time for me to trust you again, but these cookies are really good. Thank you for making them for me.”

“You’re welcome, Chuckie. As long as you keep giving me chances to make it up to you, I will. Just promise you’ll give me a chance.”

“I will.”

“And promise me you’ll give Rath a chance.”

I look to the side, chewing. Once I swallow, I say, “We’ll see, Grandma. Love is fragile. When it’s broken, it’s very hard to repair.”

“Giving it a chance to repair is the first step.”

But what if I’m too scared to take that first step? Yes, my mom told me with love can come hurt, but after what happened with Chris? My trust is fragile. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to put myself out there again, especially against such a magnetic man. But is Grandma right? Was I letting this opportunity go because I believe my heart is too scarred? That it can’t heal?

Even though, many times when I was in his arms, I thought it already had?