Changing Course (26 page)

"Hey Sexy! I was wondering when you were going to show up," she says, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. As she moved her hands back down I caught the sparkle off her left hand.

"How you doing, Sarah?" I ask, trying to figure out what the hell she's doing still wearing her rings.

"I'm good. Are you just going to stand in the doorway and stare at me all night, or are you coming inside?" Her candor is nothing unusual, but I'm still suspicious as hell.

"I made dinner," she says, pulling a casserole dish out of the fridge. Sarah always made the weirdest food. I guess they aren't weird to everyone, but I was never a fan. She made southern dishes like potato soup, made with more butter than milk, or fried macaroni and cheese bites. I'm sorry, but does Mac n' cheese need to be deep fried? Her family raved about her cooking, but I never could get on board with soggy bread-like noodles in chicken soup. She called it chicken and dumplings. I called it gross. However, when she would branch out into different types of food, it was always delicious.

My favorite of all her meals was her seven layer Mexican dip. She always made it for my birthday, or any time we were celebrating something special. God, it was good. So when I see her unwrap a dish topped with lettuce and decorated with dollops of sour cream, my eyes jump to hers.

"What is that?" I ask skeptically.

"Seven layer dip." She acts like it’s nothing more than ingredients tossed in a bowl. We both know it’s more. It's a memory. It's happiness. It's our past. I have to restrain myself from reaching out and slapping that stupid ass dish across the room. I want to see it shatter into a million pieces, just like our future. Fucking seven layer dip!

I try to compose myself enough to speak. "I'm glad you're feeling better. I need to get back to work."

"Baby, you haven't eaten yet."

"Don't call me that!" I shout.

"Jesus, it's just fucking dinner. Stop freaking out," she responds, rolling her eyes at my outburst. "You’re acting like a douche right now." Yep, still the same new Sarah.

"Dinner, right." I nod knowing she's flat out lying, but I can't figure out why. "What are you doing? You haven't cooked for me in years. Now two days after showing up and freaking out on the woman I'm seeing, you make my favorite meal? For what?" I begin to get angrier as I talk. It's one head trip after another with this woman. "Please, just tell me why!" I scream across her room.

"Because you are the only one who hasn't turned their back on me," she rushes out, stepping towards me. "Because I know I messed things up for you a few days ago with that girl. And...and because I miss you," she says, in a voice unlike any version of Sarah I've ever seen.

I take a step forward trying to get a better read on the situation. She's done nothing but push me away, now she misses me? Stunned by her admission, I can't even stop to evaluate my feelings, but that doesn't stop a knot from forming in my throat.

She closes the distance between us, resting her hands on my chest, "I miss you, baby," she repeats, staring down at the ground. "Maybe we could try to work something out, get to know each other again." Using her foot to draw patterns in the carpet, she leans into me. I don't recognize this woman. She is so timid and shy. She's so...Jesse. Shit! Jess. I quickly take a step backwards out of her reach, and thankfully she doesn't follow.

"Start talking," I demand.

I have an unexplainable need to hear her out. My mind is racing but I'm not excited like I thought I would be at finally hearing those words come out of her mouth. A few weeks ago, I would have been at her mercy, ecstatic to have another shot at a life together. Only now, I feel apprehensive.

"Um, I just thought..." she trails off. Any hope that started to fill my heart quickly deflates when I see the humor twitch in her cheek. This is yet another one of her games.

"Fuck, Sarah!" I explode, unable to can't catch my breath.

This woman stands before me joking about missing me after the hell I have been through. Years spent holding on to hope that one day I would get my wife back, yet it’s all one big joke to her. The only thing stopping me from unleashing the brunt of my anger is that I know it's not her fault. I lost my wife, but she lost herself.

These games are a different story all together. I have every right to be pissed about this. She may not be able to control who she became after the wreck, but she made the decision to wage emotional war on me over the past few days. First with Jesse, and now with this bullshit. It’s drama upon drama where Sarah is involved. I have nothing left to say. I've already tried every possible combination of words to move past this. It's time to suck it up and admit there is no fixing us. At some point, you have to cut your losses and walk away, but I can't seem to convince myself the fiery woman who used to own my heart, is a complete loss.

I turn to walk out the door. I won't give her the satisfaction of seeing me react again.

"Brett, wait!" she says, softly laughing. "I meant it. Maybe not the way you want me to mean it, but I do miss you. You won't believe me, but I remember being happy with you. I remember the day you proposed. Jesus, that was corny. That whole Jeopardy thing." She laughs a little louder. "Seriously, that was cheese dick." I put my hands on my hips, assuming the position for her to sling hate filled words at me.

"But I do remember the way I felt when you asked." She reaches down spinning her rings around her finger. "I loved you," she says, completely devoid of emotion. "I want to feel like that again." She finally looks into my eyes, and I see a flash of something genuine before they go blank again.

I can barely breathe. My chest feels like it’s going to collapse at any second. I know what I'm about to say, and it is scares the hell out of me. I can't do this emotional roller coaster anymore. I don't want the drama, the longing, the feeling that I'm constantly waiting for something to change. I may not be able to give up on her as a person, but I can finally let my Sarah go.

"I loved you too." I suck in a breath. The past tense of those words is enough to bring me to my knees, but I have to finish. "Sarah, I'll always be here for you. Every single Thursday for the rest of your life, I'll be knocking on your door. You can act like a bitch, you can call me names, you can try to lock me out, but I'll always come back. You would have done that for me. But there will never be another Brett and Sarah Sharp.

“You moved on four years ago, and tonight..." I pause terrified to finish the sentence. It needs to be said though, for both of us. "Well, tonight I'm moving on too." I wait for my words to sink in. Surely this will have some emotional effect on her, but she stands stock still seemingly unfazed.

Just as I'm about to repeat myself, a small mischievous smile creeps across her face. "Okay," she says, walking out of the kitchen and into her bedroom locking the door behind her.

Oh shit, this isn't good.

"Sarah!" I knock on her bedroom door. I just unknowingly issued some sort of challenge and she was all too happy to accept it. "Open the door." I continue to knock.

She never answers, and after a few minutes I have no choice but to leave it alone for now. I decide to head home, and deal with this tomorrow. Awesome, more drama to look forward to.

When I get outside to my car, I have an overwhelming urge to drive directly to Jess's apartment. It's been a week since we started dating, but I've already become addicted. She always makes me forget everything else. It's more than just a distraction, though. My life has been on auto-pilot, nothing in my control. I have no choice but to go along for the ride. For a man, it's a damn near crippling feeling. Jesse grounds me. She looks at me like I'm the prize, but she has no idea that I'm the winner every time we are together. I want to rush to her right now, falling asleep buried inside of her. But that's not fair to her. We agreed to take this slow and not rush into something I can't give her when my life explodes again. The same way it always does.

I walk into my apartment, wasting no time heading directly to the phone. If I can't see her, I damn sure am going to talk to her. As soon as I hear her pick up my whole load is lightened.

"Hang on Brett!" she shouts distantly. "Okay, I'm back...hello."

"Well, you sound busy."

"No, I was just trying to catch Paprika."

"Um, I'm not exactly a chef but does paprika run away often?" My words cause her to giggle, and it's as if that small sound makes the world tilt back on axis.

"No, Paprika is a cat that Kara adopted from the shelter."

"You got a cat?"

"Well no, Kara got a cat, but we can't keep him. Our landlord has a strict ‘no pets’ policy, but Kara thought she could get him to cave. He lets the girl downstairs with the big boobs have a Chihuahua. Apparently, Kara is not well endowed enough for his tastes."

"What the hell! He said that?"

She starts laughing again, "No, he didn't say that exactly, but you know how Kara is. She flirted him up hardcore and still got the door slammed in her face. She told me I should give it a try next. She thinks I'm more his type."

"Jesse, you are not going anywhere near your landlord."

"Oh I know, that guy gives me the creeps. He's like thirty-five and always staring at my boobs."

"Gorgeous, I'm thirty-two and always starting at you boobs."

"I never said you weren't creepy too."

"That is a title I will gladly accept, because unlike your pervert landlord I get to actually touch those boobs." She laughs again. I would do anything to hear that sound.

"Well anyway, we have to give the cat back tomorrow so we are just hanging out playing with all the kitty toys we bought earlier. You should see him, he is so cute. He's white with a few orange speckles. Kara said she was going to call Nell and see if she wants him."

She continues rambling about the cat for a few more minutes. I grab a beer and collapse onto the couch, closing my eyes and listening as her words free me from the stress that keeps me weighted down. It's funny to hear her get like this. A few days ago, she would have been saying nothing but uh and um, but now she has barely stopped talking long enough to breathe.

"Jeez, I'm talking a lot," she says. "What have you been doing tonight?"

"Not much, just lying on the couch wishing you were here with me." The words come out before I really think them through, but it's the truth. Damn it, I should have gone to her place.

"You want some company?" she asks, reading my mind.

"No, it's okay babe. I know you have Paprika there tonight. Today was just a little crazy. I'm fine now though."

"Chocolate or vanilla?" she randomly asks.

"Huh?"

"I'm bringing ice cream and beer. Oh, and a movie. You sound like you need to watch a movie."

"Jesse, we never actually watch movies...oh, um...okay I could definitely watch a movie right now." We both start laughing, when I realize she isn't talking about a movie at all.

"Okay, give me about thirty minutes and I'll be there."

"Gorgeous, you don't have to do that. You're already cooking me dinner tomorrow night. Don't think I'm going to let you off the hook for that one."

"I'm not trying to get off the hook for anything. I like cooking for you. If I called and said I had a crap day, and wanted you to come over, would you?"

"Of course, but-"

"Okay, see you in a few." she hangs up before I can say anything else. I guess I'll be seeing Jesse tonight after all, and that thought propels me off the couch and into the shower. This day just got a hell of a lot better.

Jesse

O
VER THE
next few weeks Brett and I fall into an easy groove. We see each other every morning at Nell's and hang out about three to four times a week. I make a point to cook him as many meals as I can, including preparing his favorite fruit and granola for him to keep at home on the weekends. Last week he asked me to put together a grocery list for him, and now he keeps his fridge stocked with ingredients for me to cook dinner at his place. When he first asked about it, my heart stopped at the idea of how serious that sounded; me making his weekly grocery list. I talked myself out of reading too much into it. I have to remind myself daily that we are just dating. Nothing serious...yet.

I haven't heard or seen from Sarah again since that day at the coffee shop. She all but disappeared. I have no idea if Caleb spoke with her or not. I can’t imagine that would have gone over well with Brett. He was so protective of her after the way she reacted to Caleb. I don't think he would be very pleased if he caught wind that Caleb showed up to have a "talk" with her.