Chapter 6
Sloane
I’m on a roll. Yesterday I saw Becca for the first time in almost two years, and today I’m taking the plunge and seeking out Eden.
I slept like crap last night, worrying about bumping into her.
Originally, I wanted to give our inevitable meeting a little more time, for both our sakes.
However, now that I know Eden is close by, and more than likely aware of my presence in town, I need to get it over with.
I’d rather deal with the fallout now than spend weeks imagining the worst.
Before I do anything, though, I’m going for a run. I’ve missed the hiking trails since being away, and what better time to get some fresh air than the morning of what could be either the best or worst day of my life since returning home?
Lacing up my sneakers, I take several cleansing breaths, readying myself for a tough workout. I’m not as fit and flexible as I was in high school, but I’m sure I could still do a few backflips. I won’t try in case I hurt myself. Some cardio will have to be enough.
I’ve already spent an hour meditating and writing my anxieties in a journal.
There is a whole box of journals under my bed, stuffed with worries and overanalyzed thoughts.
At first, I couldn’t see the point in writing all the crap down, but my therapist asked me to stick with it and I’m glad I did.
Now, instead of letting the negative thoughts and emotions live rent-free in my mind, I can extract them to paper, read the words and for the most part dilute them until they no longer play any significant role in my mood.
There’s something about seeing my anxieties in print that helps me view them for the false facts they are.
Don’t get me wrong: some worries are totally valid, and I have to deal with them a little differently.
But for the thoughts that my brain conjures, which aren’t based in fact but stem from fear, this is a great way to get them out of my head before they do any real damage.
Considering the stakes, I’m relatively relaxed this morning.
All my techniques are working, and I know running will help with the abundance of adrenaline trying to flood my system.
I’ve chosen to run the route Eden and I hiked—more than once, actually.
It was the hike I took her on our first date/non-date when we initially started talking back in senior year.
I still chuckle to myself when I think of Eden and how out of breath she was from the small hill halfway through the walk. She was so pouty it was adorable. I think it was the first real bit of exercise she’d done since being a kid.
Stretching out my body, I fit my earbuds and connect my phone. I’ve got several playlists for running, but this morning I’m listening to one of the playlists Eden made me. Over the years it helped me feel close to her, even if it was a form of self-torture.
Starting off with a light jog, I pass by the main house and wave at my mom, who is in the kitchen. The sun is already shining brightly, even though it’s still relatively early. We’re in for a hot day, that I intend to spend lazing by the pool once I’ve hopefully spoken with Eden.
My mind wanders as I pick up my pace. I try not to get in the habit of predicting anymore, because that’s how I get myself in a mess mentally.
I can’t know how Eden will react, or what she’ll say to me—if anything.
It’s a struggle not to let my mind make up worst-case scenarios, but that’s just another facet of having an anxiety disorder I have to live with and accept.
The ground changes from asphalt to sandy rubble as I turn off the road and enter the trail.
My heart rate is already elevated, and I’m feeling energized enough that I want to push even harder.
Pumping my arms, I engage my entire body until I’m struggling for breath.
Thankfully I make it to the top before my lungs give out.
Wow, I’ve not pushed myself like that in a while.
The gym doesn’t quite hit the same as a run in the wilds of Colorado.
What I didn’t account for when I chose to run the trail today was just how emotional I would feel when faced with the lookout point I brought Eden to all those years ago.
It’s not the exercise that’s stealing my breath now, but the heavy weight of regret and pain.
I’m only twenty-two and yet I feel like I’ve already suffered through the greatest loss of my life.
Four years ago, I referred to Eden as my white whale.
I summoned the courage to talk to her, flirt with her, and eventually call her mine.
I’ll never forgive my disorder for robbing me of the love Eden held for me. Out of all the things I have to come to terms with, that’s the hardest thing.
There is a small voice that whispers messages of hope.
It’s a voice I don’t hear very often because it gets drowned out by the negative, but now and then, it comes through loud and clear.
Today is one of those times. I can hope Eden will let me apologize and begin to repair our friendship, if nothing else.
A part of me wonders if Becca and Jenna will put in a good word for me. I don’t expect it, and I would never ask it of them, but they were both a lot more welcoming than I’d expected, and it seemed their main concern was my well-being. Will they pass that on to Eden?
Jumping up and down, I shake out my limbs, not wanting my muscles to get cold. I could probably spend the day standing here looking out over our vista, but I need to get moving.
Turning on my heel, I push off, ready to sprint home when my body collides with something tall and solid. A “yip” escapes my mouth as I tumble backwards straight to the ground. Oof, my ass is going to feel that in the morning.
A little dazed, I assess my body to see if I’ve broken anything. I haven’t, by all accounts…maybe my ego. I must have looked like a flailing giraffe, although I’m not that tall.
Scrambling to my feet, I finally look at the object I slammed into. Shit. Oh dear Lord, it wasn’t an object but another human being that I am intimately familiar with. A body I’ve not felt in…take a guess. That’s right, two years.
Eden is still on the ground, sprawled out looking up at me with wide eyes. I’m standing over her, staring down with the same expression.
Suddenly, she barks out a laugh and drops her head so she’s fully lying down. Her head shakes, and she brings her hands to her face, hiding her continued laughter.
No words form. All I can do is stare at her. She’s dressed in black quarter-length running pants and a tight black tank top. Nothing I haven’t seen her in before, but damn, she looks amazing, even though she’s hiding away from me and laughing hysterically.
I have no idea how much time passes, but it must be a good chunk.
It’s only when my legs feel stiff do I shake myself out of my stupor and move slightly.
The noise is loud enough for Eden to hear because her hands drop from her face, and she’s staring back at me.
It’s almost like, in her delirium of seeing me, she forgot I was even standing here.
Everything is silent as we regard each other. Even the birds seem to understand the gravity of what’s happening.
“Hi,” I manage to rasp out.
“Bloody typical, isn’t it?” she says.
I have to bite my lip as she gives me her signature grin. There have been many times over the last two years I genuinely thought I’d never see it directed my way again.
“What is?” I ask.
Eden shakes her head as she clambers to her feet. I love how she towers over me. Her body looks amazing, and her hair makes me want to drool. Instead of the modern mullet, which Eden sported for a few years, she’s now got a full undercut with the main section of her hair up in a topknot.
Another addition to her look is the small tattoo just below her left ear. I can’t quite make out the design, and I don’t dare to get any closer.
“This,” she answers, waving her hand around. “Literally running into you the day after I find out you’re back.”
She’s not wrong. Even I didn’t think we’d bump into each other, literally, this early on.
“I didn’t know you’d be here, I swear.” A large part of me is panicking because I don’t want her to think I’m acting nefarious in any way. Eden cocks her eyebrow.
“By the deer-in-headlights reaction you gave me, I kinda figured.“
Chewing my lip, I give her a small nod and drop my eyes to the ground, because I simply cannot keep looking at her without doing something stupid.
“Sloane?” she says after a few more beats of awkward silence.
I have to take a few breaths to keep my emotions in check, otherwise I’m going to be a begging, crying wreck. But it’s not about what I want right now. Eden needs to lead the way. Locking my jaw, I lift my head and look her square in the eye. Fuck, the sight of her physically hurts my chest.
“Hi, Eden,” I repeat. “You look really good.”
Eden assesses me from head to toe, and brother, do I feel it viscerally!
“You too, Bishop.”
My nose flares involuntarily at the use of my surname. It’s far too playful for what’s happening, isn’t it? Why isn’t she storming away, or at least giving me the silent treatment?
“Please don’t do that, Eden,” I grumble. “Don’t let me off the hook by being sweet.”
Her hand goes to the back of her neck, where she rubs it gently in the usual way when she’s nervous. “I’m not letting you off the hook, Sloane.”
“Good,” I reply and then cringe, because this is when I expect her real feelings to show. This is when I wait for the fallout of my actions.
“But I’m not going to blame you either,” she continues.
Shaking my head, I look over my shoulder and back out to the vista, just to give myself a little time to formulate a response.
“If there is anyone in this world who has the right to place blame, it’s you, Eden,” I say as I turn back.
She shrugs at me and drops her hands to her hips. “Maybe, but that’s not what I want to do.”
“What do you want to do?” I ask without thinking. I know what I’d like to do, and it’s very inappropriate.
“Honestly,” she begins, and I nod. “I want to hug you. I want to tell you how proud I am that you’ve worked through your shit, to get back here.”
Taking a step back, I shake my head again. “Eden, come on! I broke us and hurt you in the worst possible way!”
“You did,” she says matter-of-factly, “and I won’t forget how that felt. But Sloane, I was so worried about you. I’m just relieved to see you standing here in one piece.”
Jesus, did she think I was suicidal? I never got to that point, and I know I have Jenna to thank for it. There is no explaining to anyone what mental illness does to you. How it strips you of all rational thinking and leaves you wallowing in a pit of darkness.
“I’m in therapy. I’m medicated, too.”
Eden nods. “And how do you feel about things?”
“Things?” I need clarification on what she’s referring to, because I doubt she wants to know how I feel about her. About us.
“Yeah, things. I mean, are you coping? Does that sound like an arsehole thing to ask?”
For the first time since running into her, I allow myself a little smile. “It’s not an ‘arsehole’ thing to ask.” I attempt to emulate her accent as I repeat the word. I sound awful, of course, and Eden snickers.
“I’m coping. College is over, and by some miracle, I graduated. Now I’m spending my time getting back on my feet. Discovering what comes next. Hopefully…mending some fences.”
I might as well come straight out with it. Eden has always appreciated brutal honesty.
“Fences with friends, by any chance?” she replies knowingly.
Swallowing again, I blow out a breath. “Yes. If I can.”
“Becca missed you,” is all she says.
“I missed her. So very much. I missed everyone…especially you.”
It’s Eden’s turn to look away. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, but I also don’t want to beat around the bush. Not when I have so much time to make up for.
“I’ll understand if you don’t want to see me, Eden. I’ll stay out of the way, if that’s what you need?”
A low chuckle escapes her throat, and I’m devastated to see her eyes filled with unshed tears. “What I need, huh? I‘ve no fucking clue what I need, Sloane. I’m a fucking pic ‘n’ mix of emotions.”
I don’t know what pic ‘n’ mix is, but I get what she means.
“I want to hug you, because I really am so fucking happy to see you with a glow about your skin again. I want to stamp my feet at how bloody unfair life is, that we had to go through any of it,” she rants.
“I want to walk away and forget I ever met you, but in the next breath, I want to scoop you into my arms and hold you until we’re old and wrinkly.
I want everything and nothing from you, Sloane! ”
My heart is hammering in my chest, and I don’t know what to do. Eden looks half-crazy as she gesticulates wildly.
“Would you meet up with me?” I ask when the silence becomes too much. “When you’re ready and not taken by surprise. Will you sit and talk to me? So I can apologize properly, and you have time to say whatever you need to say.”
Doing this now, in this place, isn’t right.
First, there are too many emotions linked to the lookout for both of us.
Second, neither of us expected to see each other, and I know, for me at least, I’d prefer to have my thoughts organized.
It’s what I planned to do after the run before heading to her apartment.
“Okay,” she says eventually. “I can do that. I’ll…is it okay if I let Jenna know, and she can relay it to you?”
I wince, because that’s another thing I need to say sorry for. I really hope I haven’t caused them to fall out.
“Of course that’s okay.”
We nod at each other like lunatics for a second before I take a step to the side and go to walk away. As I step past, Eden takes my hand in hers.
“I’m happy you’re home, Bishop.”
Clearing my throat, I smile back. “It’s good to be home, Sawyer.”