7. CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 7
SCARLETT
“Should I open another bottle of wine?”
“Of course.” Maya picks up her nearly empty wine glass and drains the last of it before setting it down with an emphatic thunk. “It’s girls’ night. Elle’s babysitting. I don’t have to drive home. We haven’t gotten to hang out just the two of us in ages. I think we definitely need to open another bottle.”
“Okay.” I finish the last dredges of my wine and get up from the couch, snagging Maya’s glass as I head to the kitchen. “Do you want more of the Pinot? Or do you want to switch to something else? I think I have a rosé. And a riesling.”
“Ooh, tough choice.” Maya grabs a cracker and tops it with a slice of cheddar. “The Pinot I guess. Probably not a good idea to switch wines halfway through the night.”
“I guess not. Something about the sugar in the wine or something?”
“Maybe.” She pops the cracker in her mouth and chews for a few seconds before asking, “Remember when we didn’t care about stuff like hangovers? And we thought wine was for stuffy old people? ”
From the kitchen, I raise my voice to be heard across the open living space. “I do. We liked shots and Long Island iced teas and those horrible pink drinks from that bar in Saratoga.”
Maya laughs. “The Saucy Saratogian? I forgot all about that thing. It must have been all alcohol.”
I grab a chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio from the fridge and uncork it, then pour two hefty servings into our glasses. “I’m sure it was. And I’m not even sure how they got it to be that bright pink color.”
As I head back to the couch, she says, “Something completely unnatural, I’m sure. But they tasted good, didn’t they?”
“They did.” Setting the glasses on the coffee table, I sink back onto the couch cushions and tuck my feet underneath me. “Although that one time… they didn’t taste very nice the next morning.”
“Oh, don’t remind me.” She groans, shaking her head at the memory. “That was summer before senior year, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah.” I take a sip of wine, then grab a handful of pretzels from the bowl on the table to counteract some of the alcohol. Girls’ night or not, I’m not twenty-one anymore and have no desire to wake up with a hangover. “We were so excited to finally be twenty-one.”
Maya makes another cracker and cheese sandwich, this time layering a thin slice of salami inside it. Her expression turns pensive. “It feels so long ago, doesn’t it? Summers in Saratoga? About to finish college? Trying to decide what to do with our lives? ”
“I know. It’s hard to believe sometimes. Back then, thirty felt so old.”
“It did,” she agrees. “I had this idea that being thirty meant being boring. Never going out, having to be responsible… but—” Her face brightens. “It’s actually so much better than I imagined. With Cole, and Clara, and—”
Maya’s phone chimes and she makes an apologetic face as she reaches to pick it up. “Sorry. I know it’s our time. But I just want to make sure everything is okay at home.”
I wave off her apology. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”
She makes an aw face at the screen. “Elle sent a picture of Clara sleeping. I still can’t get over how cute she is.”
“She’s the cutest,” I agree, and I mean it. I might be biased because Clara’s my goddaughter, but I think she’s the most adorable baby I’ve ever seen. “Is she doing okay for Elle?”
“Yeah.” Maya taps out a quick message and sets down her phone. “I think it worked out well to have Elle and Zane babysit since Cole’s out of town until Tuesday. They haven’t said they’re trying yet, but once Elle gets tenure… Zane’s nervous about it, so it’s good for him to get some experience taking care of a baby.”
It’s hard to imagine always calm and confident Zane being nervous about anything, but then again, I saw Cole looking a bit pale right after Clara was born, and I’m pretty certain his hands were shaking the first time he held her. So I guess even big, tough, former Special Forces guys can get scared when it’s about something important .
An image flashes through my mind—Grant, holding a baby with blonde hair and his silvery eyes and gazing at it with an awestruck expression—and my heart gives a little tug.
But we’ve only just started… what? Seeing each other? Kissing? Are we dating? We didn’t really specify what it was last night, and there hasn’t been time since then. Today we texted and Grant met me for lunch, but the Hungry Horseman wasn’t really the place to get into meaningful conversation. And tonight he’s volunteering at the station, and Maya’s here with me, so I guess I’ll have to wait a bit longer to figure things out for sure.
“Scarlett.” Maya pins me with her gaze. “Why did your cheeks just go pink?”
“What?” I widen my eyes at her. “What are you talking about?”
She tuts at me with her wine glass, sending the liquid sloshing dangerously close to the edge. “Don’t give me that. You were thinking about Grant, weren’t you?”
“Maybe,” I hedge. I’m not sure why I’m so hesitant to talk about it. Except… it’s all so new, and I’m scared I’ll somehow mess things up, and it almost feels like I’ll jinx things if I talk about it.
Still. It’s Maya. And if I can’t talk to her about it…
At her raised eyebrows, I huff, “Fine. I was thinking about Grant.”
“And?” She draws out the word. “Did something happen? ”
I take a large swig of my wine before answering. “Yes. We kissed. Last night.”
“Yay!” Maya beams at me. “Finally! So. Are you dating?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe? We didn’t really talk about it. Not yet, at least. We kissed, and then… Well, it happened a few times. And then we watched Love is Blind —” I frown at Maya’s expression of distaste. “It’s a good show. Anyway. I fell asleep and then it was after midnight and he had to leave. So we didn’t discuss it.”
She sets her glass down and turns on the couch so she’s facing me. “Do you want to date Grant?”
My heart thuds hard. “Yes. But I’m scared. What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”
“How could you think that? You two see each other every day. Sometimes more than once. He comes over to fix things for you. Went to the station with you—which I would have done, but it’s okay, I get it. He brings you gifts—”
“Well, mostly tools and food—”
Maya fixes me with a stern look. “And a bag. With Little Women on it. Which he remembered after you told him about it, what, months ago?”
Butterflies take flight in my chest. “Yes. But… what if he really just wants to stay friends and got caught up in the moment?”
“ Scarlett Kirkland . Are you being intentionally clueless? There is no way Grant only thinks of you as a friend. Trust me. I’ve watched all the B and A guys fall in love, and I know how they act when they care about a woman. Grant cares about you.”
She grabs my phone and shoves it at me. “Now. Text him. Ask him to come over after his shift. Find out for sure.”
“He’s working until midnight,” I start, “and he’ll be tired…”
“He’ll be thrilled. Tell him you want to make him a late snack. Or you just want to see him. That you miss him. Trust me. Grant will want to come over.”
I’m not entirely sold on her idea, but Maya’s stubborn and she won’t let this go until I give in. So I unlock my phone and find the last text Grant sent, which was just before he left to head to the station. “Fine,” I tell her. “I’ll text him. But only because I know you’ll keep badgering me until I do.”
“Yes.” Her grin is triumphant. “I will. Now text him.”
I make a little face at Maya before I type out my message.
Hey. Hope everything is going okay. Just hanging out here with Maya, but I was wondering if you wanted to stop by after your shift? I have lots of snacks if you’re hungry. Or I could make you a late dinner.
It doesn’t seem like enough once I send it, so I quickly add to it.
Or you could just stop by to say hi. I miss you. But if it’s too late, I understand.
Messages sent, I meet Maya’s expectant gaze. “I did it. But he might be out on a call. So I won’t know—”
Or he’s not on a call, because Grant replies immediately.
I would love to stop by. I miss you too .
Oh. A smile spreads across my face.
He sends another message.
I hope you and Maya are having a great time. And I can’t wait to see you.
“Well?” Maya pokes my leg. “Is he coming?”
“Yes. He said he misses me, too.”
“Oh, Scar.” Her expression goes soft. “I’m so glad. I know it’s still early, but… when I asked Grant to help you, I hoped. You’ve been single for so long, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but you always wanted to get married and you’re such a romantic…”
Grant’s words from last night come back to me.
I’ve never talked to Maya about everything that happened; not really. I apologized over and over in the beginning, and I told her how sorry I was for putting distance between us, but I never told her how it still haunts me.
I told myself it was selfish to bring it up all over again in an attempt to make myself feel better.
I told myself I needed to deal with it on my own instead of laying another weight on Maya’s shoulders.
But it’s three years on, and I can’t get past it. And maybe Grant’s right. Maybe it’s time to talk to her.
“Scarlett?” Concern darkens Maya’s eyes, and she touches my arm softly. “What’s wrong? I didn’t mean to say you have to be in a relationship. If you’re happy, that’s the important thing. ”
“It’s not that.” Pressure builds in my chest and my throat gets tight. “There’s something… I didn’t want to bring it up. I thought it was better to keep it to myself.”
“What?”
“I—” Emotion chokes me for a second, and fear comes rushing in behind it.
What if I make things worse? What if I selfishly unburden myself and hurt Maya again?
“Scar? You’re freaking me out.” Worry seeps into her voice. “Tell me. Please.”
I stare at the fabric of the couch, memorizing the tiny rows of stitches.
Why is this so hard?
Finally, I force myself to start. “I feel so guilty.”
Once I say the first words, the dam breaks and the rest comes out in a flood. “I’m so sorry. So sorry. I know I said it before, but it’s not enough. What I did, I hate myself for it. You’re my best friend, and I hurt you so badly. I can’t let it go, and I know it’s my problem, not yours. And I didn’t want to burden you with this again, but it’s so hard, and I can’t stop thinking about it, and—”
“Scarlett.” Maya stares at me, aghast. “What are you talking about?”
“All of it.” Hot tears run down my cheeks. “It was all my fault. I was so stubborn, and I told Cole I didn’t need protection, and then Trevor got me. If I had just agreed, it wouldn’t have happened. And you wouldn’t have had to go in the woods, and you wouldn’t have been hurt. And then I screwed up again. It’s my fault you killed him.”
“Scar, no—”
“You were hurt. You suffered so badly. And it’s my fault.” My voice comes in shuddering stops and starts. “And then I ran away. I left you. I’m a horrible friend. I can’t forgive myself for what I did.”
My face is tight and my nose is burning and I feel carved out. Raw. Aching. Empty.
I’m afraid to look up at Maya, and when I risk a quick glance, tears are welling up in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. We were having a nice time… and I… I ruined it.”
“No. Oh, no, Scar.” Her voice wobbles, then firms. “God, no. It’s not your fault. None of it. I didn’t know you felt this way. I never pushed to talk about it either, but I should have. I should have noticed something was wrong.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” I reply quickly. “You were the one who was hurt. I’m the one who screwed up. If I—”
“Absolutely not.” Maya grabs my hands in hers and squeezes them tightly. “You were hurt, too. Don’t you think I felt guilty? That I dragged you into that whole mess? I’m the one who dated him. I should have seen the signs and gotten out sooner.”
“No. No .” It’s adamant. “You didn’t know at first. And how could I blame you for that? He was a terrible person. He terrified you. I never blamed you for what happened. ”
Her gaze holds mine; so intense I can’t look away. “But then, how could you blame yourself? You didn’t make Trevor abduct you. You didn’t make him hurt you. Hurt me. He did that. It was all him.”
“But then…” Another shaky sob. “If I hadn’t jumped at him. And you… the knife…”
“You were trying to protect me. What you did was brave. And if you hadn’t done that, who knows what might have happened. He could have killed me, instead.”
“But it was so hard for you. I can’t—”
“Scarlett.” Maya hugs me fiercely before pulling away. “It was not your fault. And I’m so sorry you’ve been carrying this for so long.” Brow creasing, she asks gently, “How bad has it been? And tell me the truth. Please.”
The truth is a hard ball of emotion stuck in my throat, and it’s an effort to force it out. “I get panic attacks. Especially when I’m stressed. And nightmares. I… I finally saw a counselor, about a year after. When I couldn’t sleep anymore.”
In a whisper, I add, “It’s been worse. After the robbery. Grant saw me panicking. So he knew a little. I finally told him about it, and he said I should talk to you. That maybe it would help. I was just so afraid to hurt you again.”
“Oh, Scar.” Now Maya’s crying, too. “I never blamed you. Ever.”
“I didn’t blame you, either.”
She leans over and hugs me again, this time squeezing me so hard my back actually cracks. “Then we can agree on it.” Pulling back, she looks at me very seriously and says, “What happened back then sucked. But. I met Cole. And I would never change that. Now I’m married. I have a daughter. I’m happy.”
“I know,” I sniffle. “I know that. It’s just hard—”
“You deserve to be happy, too, Scar.”
Maya grabs our wine glasses and hands mine to me. “No more blaming yourself. And if you feel bad, talk to me. Or”—her lips curve up—“talk to Grant. That’s okay, too. But don’t take this all on your own. Okay?”
I swipe at my damp cheeks and sniff loudly. “Okay.”
She clinks my glass. “We’re drinking to that. No more guilt. Or at least, you’re going to work on it. Promise?”
I almost burst into tears all over again. “I promise.”
After we both take a sip of wine, Maya brushes at my face. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to finish this wine. Watch one of those terrible shows you like and talk. And then I’m going to go home so you can get ready for Grant to come over. And you can tell him he was right. That talking to me helped.”
A weight finally drops away; one I’ve carried for so long it felt normal.
It’s easier to breathe again.
“Okay.” I smile at my best friend. “That sounds like a really good plan.”