Chapter 39 #2
“You were special to him. He loved you.” She says it so casually, smiling into her wine before taking a drink, but it seizes the words in my throat. Clyde always made me feel like I mattered and what I created was significant. There was no better mentor than him.
“And Piper hated that.”
“You were building your career.”
I nod. “The week after I completed my apprenticeship and started out on my own, her dog became sick and she had to put him down. I canceled everything that week to be there for her. That week, things settled down and I saw bits of the Piper I fell in love with. But as soon as I went back to work . . .”
She hums in understanding.
I sigh. “The more controlling she became, the less I wanted to be around her. She blamed your dad.” He was in her way.
Kelly purses her lips, cocking her head to the side as she listens.
“One day, I was taking trash out to the dumpster at work and found her tampering with your dad’s old Buick.
We got into a huge fight, and it was during that fight I started questioning some of the weird coincidences, like how quickly she got over her dog.
She never admitted it, but I believe she had her dog put down so she could keep me home. ”
“Oh my God.” Her back straightens and she presses the pads of her fingers to her parted lips. “What was she doing with the car?”
Piper lacked empathy but faked it very well. She saw people as possessions. In her eyes, she owned my time the same way she owned me. It was always about attention for her. It was her life source.
“Trying to cut his brakes. Everything in her life was something to leverage, including life apparently.” I lift my shoulders. “I lost it. I reached out to her family, told them I was done, and they had her admitted.”
“Jesus.”
Piper was a different breed of chaos; she was disturbed.
“I was so ashamed of how bad I had let everything get, like a frog in boiling water. I should have seen it sooner, stopped it sooner. Instead, I had to get a restraining order and face your dad with the truth. That was the hardest part, explaining that I’d jeopardized his safety because my judgment couldn’t be trusted.
” It makes me sick to think I could have been the reason to make Kelly lose her father even earlier than she did.
Kelly sits there stunned. “I never knew any of this . . . What did my dad say?”
“Nothing!” I chuckle. “He just hugged me. That was it.” Clyde knew I was hurting. He never once gave me the told-you-so speech.
“Sounds about right. You were his golden boy. So, what happened to her?”
“It took a while for her to accept the breakup, but eventually, she stopped calling and texting, and I figured it was because we had the restraining order in place. Months later, I looked her up online but found her obituary instead. That was why she stopped calling.” She took her own life.
I scrub a hand down my face, adjusting my posture. Up until a year ago, this was a story I couldn’t speak out loud, but now I’m able to talk about those times and not feel the sting of shame and loss. Learning about her death threw me into a deep depression. It was abrupt, there was no closure.
“I blamed myself; I was too ashamed to even reach out to her family and apologize.”
“Oh, Logan.” Kelly reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. “Her parents knew you loved her.”
But did I? I’ve asked myself that question a thousand times.
I cared for her deeply, and I told Piper I loved her—believing it to be the truth.
However, it wasn’t until I began developing feelings for Kelly that I realized the magnitude of love and how vastly divergent the experience could be.
It was the difference between a puddle and an ocean trench.
Piper didn’t love me. She didn’t possess the capacity to love anyone other than herself. She was tortured by it. That said, I’m not confident I loved her either.
Real love doesn’t hesitate—it exists without question. But not loving someone is much harder to determine. That’s when you have to ask, when you have to seek out signs that aren’t there and beg for feelings that don’t exist.
I don’t ask with Kelly.
My fingers draw circles in the tablecloth. “Do you remember when you said you were feeling more serious about your relationships?”
Her fork pauses halfway to her mouth, as if she’s slightly caught off guard by my change of conversation. I don’t want to talk about the past with another woman, I want to talk about the future with the one in front of me.
She finishes the succulent bite and nods.
I slice off another piece of scallop. “Do you still feel that way?”
Her back straightens. “Yes.”
“And how do you feel about us?”
Kelly chuckles. “Oh, are we doing performance reviews tonight?”
I smile. “Maybe.”
“I feel very optimistic about our future . . . I’m very happy with you.
” She wipes her hands on her napkin. “Sometimes it’s like I’m looked at by so many people, but you’re the only one who sees me.
The things you say, the way you touch . .
. I can’t explain it. It goes so much deeper than a physical level, though.
You’ve been around for some of the most important events of my life, and in many ways, I can’t imagine a life without you. Like we’re—I don’t know.”
Soul mates. That’s the word she’s searching for. “But . . .”
But?
“I can’t help but wonder what our relationship might be like under different circumstances, you know?”
Fuck, I’m letting her down.
“I’m working on it,” I say. It’s a weak excuse. I haven’t solved this problem yet the way I promised her I would.
She reaches across the table for me, but her smile is sad.
“I know you are. This just seems to be . . . a lot. Even tonight, you’re taking me out as a distraction.
You made a special reservation at a nice restaurant just so we could forget about our reality.
That’s not how it’s supposed to be. You shouldn’t have to do that.
It’s not fair that you have to bear this burden too. ”
“We’re not talking about that tonight, remember?”
She nods, silently chewing. She doesn’t have to talk about it for me to know it’s in her thoughts.
“We are going to get through this.” I thread her fingers with mine. “If it ever does become a burden, if I become too much—”
“You won’t.”
I’m a man of reason, but Kelly has me believing in more. We’re fated. It’s time to go on the offensive; no more waiting for his next move. I’ll search every dark corner until I find who has made her question our future. Her stalker’s expiration is up.