Hudson
We lay on my couch. The only light in the room came from the flickering candle that sat on the coffee table. I knew I had to tell her why I’d gotten so upset. Joe had told me there was no way our relationship was going to work if I wasn’t open and honest with her. I just wasn’t sure when or how to tell her.
We’d left Maya’s parents’ place and drove around town for a bit before parking down at the water’s edge. We cuddled up together and sat on the tailgate of my truck and watched the fireworks the summer festival held on the last night. After, we walked barefoot along the beach, until Bexley admitted she had a headache. Since my place was closer, we came here instead of going to hers. We’d come in, I’d turned the lights off, and we’d curled up together on the couch. She rested her head on my chest while I held her in my arms.
“How you feeling?” I quietly asked.
“Better,” she said, letting out a yawn. “I’m tired.”
I glanced at the clock; it was already close to midnight, and while I hadn’t planned on taking her home tonight, I figured maybe this was the hint she wanted to leave. It was then I heard Joe’s voice again, urging me to talk to her. That had been the purpose of ambushing the girls’ evening.
“Before I take you home, could we talk?” I asked.
She looked at me with disappointment in her eyes. Perhaps I’d read that hint wrong, too. Maybe she didn’t want to go back home.
“Sure,” she said, interlocking her fingers with mine. “What’s on your mind?”
“I need to tell you something. I don’t want it to start another argument. I think you need to know why I got so upset the other morning.”
I felt her still, then prop herself up on her forearm. I could see just enough of her face from the flickering candle to know she was watching me, waiting for me to explain what had caused my outburst. “What is it?” she questioned.
When I didn’t answer her, she rose up a little farther.
“Should I turn the light on?” she questioned, reaching for the lamp on the side table, but I stopped her.
“No, no,” I said, grabbing her hand. “This is fine. Did I ever tell you about Carrie?”
She shook her head. “Don’t think so.”
“She was my girlfriend back in college.”
She stilled again. “Is this where you are going to tell me she called you and wants you back? Oh god, did it happen right after we slept together?”
I shook my head, then pushed the hair that had fallen into her face away from her eyes. “No, nothing like that,” I said.
Bexley was quiet. “Okay, I’m not sure what to think here.”
I was quiet. Perhaps this was a shitty time to bring this up. We were on talking terms again, she was in my arms again. Maybe she didn’t need to know, and to be honest, I wasn’t good with this stuff. But Joe and the guys had told me I needed to tell her. I just wanted to get it out, so it was done and over with. I didn’t want something else festering between us.
“She isn’t my ex.”
Bexley giggled. “This isn’t getting better, ,” she said, going to sit up, but I stopped her.
“Just listen. I’m not good with this sort of stuff, and like you, I haven’t told very many people about this,” I whispered.
Bexley quieted down, rested her head on her hand and waited. “Take all the time you need.”
“We didn’t break up. We went out while we were in college. Prom night, like most relationships, we had sex. She got pregnant. Our parents were furious, but I was so happy, I didn’t even care. We’d both graduated, and I had jobs lined up. So I planned to do what any man would do. I was going to marry her, and we were going to raise that baby.”
“Okay.”
“Only, I never got the chance.”
“What happened? Did her parents not like that you were taking the responsible approach? Did they take her from you, or make her have an abortion?”
I swallowed hard and stared at the ceiling.
“She was on her way home one night from work. She had to take a detour because of construction and was hit head on by a drunk driver.”
“Oh, my god.” Bexley gasped. “How awful.”
“When you told me about your accident, and said you weren’t charged, it triggered me. See, the driver who hit Carrie got off on a technicality. It literally ate me alive, knowing that this guy would not be punished for what he had taken from me. Which was what I thought happened with your accident. Even though I knew you hadn’t been drinking, you’d still taken someone away from someone else. Like you, he didn’t even have a scratch on him. I lost her and our unborn child, and he got off. It brought back to all these horrid memories, all those feelings of what I’d lost.”
Bexley said nothing. She just watched me, waiting for me to say more.
“Her accident is the reason I fight so hard to put drunk drivers and the people who cause the accidents behind bars, or at least keep them off the streets. It wasn’t the fact you’d hit the guy. The trigger happened when you told me you’d gotten off.”
“I can understand that.”
“I just want you to know I’m sorry. I was wrong to assume the things I did.”
“Shhh, no need to be sorry.”
“No, there is. I treated you terribly. Not the way I should have treated you the morning after our first time. I’ll never be able to let that go or forgive myself.”
Bexley pressed her lips to mine. “Thank you for trusting me with that,” she said, kissing me again. “As for the second part, you can make that up to me.”
She climbed over me, and once standing, she took hold of my hand and gently tugged.
“Did you want to go home?” I questioned, getting up off the couch and wrapping my arm around her waist.
She shook her head, turned to face me. “I think it’s time we go make up,” she said pressing her lips to mine.