13. Everett
Everett
Iam sitting at the small desk in my makeshift office in the theater, the late morning sun sliding across the dusty floorboards, highlighting the stacks of papers and renovation plans I left in a mess.
I should be working, moving things forward, ticking off another item from the endless list of tasks the theater demands, but I can’t focus.
My mind is full of things to do, planning the fundraiser, fixing things with my dad, and Violet.
How can I think about anything else but her?
And then my phone rings.
The name on the screen makes my stomach knot, an old ache that has not surfaced in years.
Sydney.
I stare at the phone, I don’t move, I don’t answer. I can’t. My thumb hovers over the green button like it has a mind of its own, threatening to betray me.
I remember the first time we met. She had a warmth that was impossible to resist. And I fell, head over heels, fast and hard, with the kind of love that makes everything else blurry.
We had a life together, or at least what felt like one. Late-night walks, cooking for each other in the cramped kitchen, long talks in the dark about dreams, fears, the future. And I thought she felt the same way. Until she didn’t.
The memory hits me like a punch. She had told me she wasn’t ready. Not for marriage, not for commitment, not for the life I was ready to give her. She didn’t want to hold me back. She didn’t want to tie me down, and in her own way, she thought letting me go was the kindest thing she could do.
I was heartbroken. Torn between holding on and letting her go, and in the end, I had let her leave.
I had told myself it was for the best, that I should never have to fight for someone to stay with me.
That we had two different dreams for our lives.
But here she was, calling me after all these years.
I can’t do it, not now. Not when my heart is still trying to sort itself out for Violet, who has stolen my attention and my focus without her even knowing. Her smile lingers in my mind long after she leaves, her laugh is so addictive I can listen for hours.
And yet, Sydney’s name on the screen made my chest tighten in a way I didn’t expect. It was a reminder of what had been lost, what I pushed aside. Why is she calling?
A text follows.
Sydney:
Hey, Everett, I just wanted to catch up. No pressure.
I stare at it. My thumb hovers over the reply button again, but I don’t type anything.
My chest is tight with old hurt, with the memory of the years I spent hoping she would change her mind, with the knowledge that she didn’t.
With the weight of everything I want with Violet and the life I am trying to build here.
Finally, I shove the phone aside and run a hand over my face. “Not now,” I mutter to myself.
I need clarity. I need perspective. I need someone who saw my life unfold in LA, someone who understood the pieces I was trying to put back together. Riley. My best friend, the one person who could make me think clearly when my emotions were threatening to take over.
I grab my phone and dial his number, waiting for him to pick up.
“Everett, hey, how are you, man?” Riley’s voice is warm, pulling me back from the edge of panic.
“Hey Riley, I’m fine, I just have a question. Have you seen Sydney around?”
There’s a pause on the other end. “Sydney? LA Sydney?”
“Yeah,” I say quickly. “She just called and sent a text saying she wants to catch up. I didn’t answer.”
“Everett,” Riley says carefully. “Are you sure you want to go down that road? You’ve built a life there, you’re back home, you’re happy, right?”
I swallow. “I am happy, I’m crushing on someone here, Violet. She’s incredible. I can’t, I don’t want to go back and open old wounds. And the theater is going great; things are moving along. Things are good here.”
There is silence on the line for a moment, then Riley speaks. “I get it, I do. You can’t just ignore history, but you also don’t have to invite it back into your life. If you know what’s at stake with Violet, you have to protect that.”
I let out a breath. “That’s exactly it. I can’t let Sydney back in. Not now, not ever, not while there’s a chance with Violet. I can’t risk losing her, or losing myself again.”
“I get it,” Riley says. “Just be careful. History has a way of coming back and biting you on your ass, whether we like it or not.”
“I know,” I say softly. “I just need to figure out what I’m feeling, what I want, and what I’m willing to let go of.”
“You’ve always been good at the messy,” he says, with that half teasing, half serious tone he has. “You just need to remember, it’s okay to take your time. You don’t have to have all the answers today.”
I nod, though he can’t see me. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it. I just need to focus on what’s in front of me. I can’t let the past derail me.”
“Good. Focus on the now. Violet, the theater, your dad, all of those matter. Don’t lose sight of it.”
I hang up, staring at the phone. I know Riley was right.
My mind drifts back to the last time I saw Sydney, to the pain in her eyes when she told me she wasn’t ready for us, to the way she walked away to let me live a life I hadn’t realized I wanted for myself.
I remember the night spent staring at the wall in disbelief, the mornings of numb dread, the endless what-ifs that haunted me long after she left.
I sigh and lean back in my chair, letting my head rest against the back of my chair. I can feel a slight pull of the past, but I can also feel the tug of the present, Violet, the theater, the new life I am building here.
I pull my notebook closer and go over notes for the theater fundraiser, letting the pencil move almost automatically across the page. The more I work, the more I remind myself that life isn’t about going backward, it is about moving forward, even when the past comes knocking.
I close my eyes for a moment, letting my thoughts drift.
Sydney had been an important part of my life.
I had loved her, and the loss of that love has shaped me in ways I didn’t fully realize until now.
But I also know I have a choice: to let that chapter linger as a painful memory or to let it inspire me to build something stronger, better, and more grounded here in Lavender Creek.