Pieces of Me (17 page)

Chapter 25

I thought a lot about everything on the drive back to Fairmount and by the time I get there, all the doubts that have been weighing me down for the last few months fall away like the leaves in autumn, making room for the new buds of spring after the harsh cold of winter has been lifted.               I would say that I am finally at a place where my heart is able to make room for Holden but the truth is, he's been in there all along, just waiting for the chance to bloom.              
              It's dark when I finally make it to my apartment. I park the car in the spot where it had been sitting dormant for the last few months and walk up the familiar stairs into my apartment.
              It's funny that nothing in this place has changed. The walls are still white, the carpet is still tan. The couch, the clock on the wall, the dishes I left are still in the sink. Everything is exactly how I left it over 48 hours ago and yet it all feels completely different. I guess because
I
feel different. Suddenly this place isn't quite as bleak as I’d believed it to be. 
              Sure the walls could use some color, maybe some art to liven them up a bit but this is the first place I've felt any sort of happiness in over a year and that is due entirely to my new friends here, and especially Holden.  I drop my duffel bag on the floor and start a pot of coffee.
              While it's brewing, I get the box out of my closet. I carefully open it up and peer into the contents, slowly sifting through the movie ticket stubs, pictures, cards, notes and other random mementos that he had saved.
              I pick up a pair of broken sunglasses from the box and hold them gingerly in my hands while the memory comes crashing back painfully tearing at my insides like a garden rake. He saved these? A small giggle emerges from my lips.
              It was our first date—Sean and I were at Olive Garden and the wait was estimated to be about twenty minutes long so we decided to wait outside with our assigned buzzer thingamajig that lights up and vibrates when it’s your turn to be seated. We had been sitting out in the bright noon sun for at least ten minutes before he pointed out that the sunglasses I had been wearing were missing a lens and I didn't even notice it. We laughed the rest of the day. 
              I squeeze the tears out of my eyes. They aren't sad tears, not really. Sean and I made some really great memories in our short time together. Because I realize now that in the grand scheme of life, three years isn't forever.
              I spend the entire night looking at every single item in the box, remembering him, crying over him and occasionally laughing to myself when I find something random he saved without me knowing it.
              The next morning I'm ready.
              I decide to save the pictures, sorting them all into a photo album. I can't bear part with everything Sean had held special enough to save, but I know that in the end, these things won't matter because I still have my memories. I don't need to hold on to the scraps of my relationship with him.
              He'll always hold a special place in my heart. Just because I'm finally ready to let myself move on doesn't mean that I will forget him. There's no reason to feel guilty about it.  He loved me enough that I know he'd be mad at me for wallowing in my sorrow to the point that I almost missed out on something great. That is, if I haven't blown it already.  
              As I dump the rest of the contents into the trashcan, I realize that I'm not just letting go of the pieces of us, I'm slowly putting back together the pieces of me.
              And that's okay, it's good even. Sean would want me to be happy again and  it was time for me to let go. 
              I pick up the guitar next, clumsily strumming a few random chords before setting up the stand in the corner of my living room where it belongs. I sit down with it and play the few simple songs I can remember. I should look into lessons—I bet I can I find a local instructor. I think I would like to start playing for real.
              As I stand up to put my guitar on it's stand, I see the calendar hanging up in my dining room is still stuck on February. I've been more out of it than I thought. I flip the paper up and secure it on the nail holding it up on the wall. That's when I see the red circle around today's date.
              The opening day for the Movies in the Park that Holden insisted we needed to attend since there's nothing else to do here.
              I check the time and realize there still might be time for me to fix this. I grab my purse and my car keys but then at the last minute I decide to take my bike instead. It's gorgeous outside and the park isn't far from my apartment. I already have proven to myself that I'm over my fear of driving.               
              I head out the door—the weight I've been carrying for over a year has now lifted. I feel increasingly lighter as I pedal toward the person who helped me
feel
something other than sadness again.
              I try not to let myself consider that it might be too late—although I know it’s a possibility. There's a good chance that he'll never be able to forgive me for blowing him off for so long, but I can't let another day go by without telling him how I feel. I have kept these feelings for him bottled up for too long. I've wasted so much time already. 
              Tiny pink and white buds dot the thin branches of the trees lining the sidewalk between my apartment and the park. Everywhere I look the world is starting to show the first signs of spring.
              The poetic part of me considers this sort of symbolic. Isn't that what spring is? A new beginning? And isn't that what I'm asking for?
              The park is already crowded by the time I get there. I find the same old maple tree I chained my bike to all those months ago. I lean my bike up against it and search through the crowd of movie-watchers for him.
              He's exactly where I hoped he would be.
              I watch him get his popcorn and soda from the concession stand. The blonde girl working the cash register smiles and bats her eyelashes flirtatiously but he just pays for his snacks and walks away, leaving her obviously disappointed by his indifference.
              But that same indifference leaves me feeling hopeful. Maybe it's not too late.
              He must feel my eyes on him because he looks up just then, his crystal blue eyes finding my brown ones. A spark of recognition flashes in his eyes before his mouth curls up on one side. I wave awkwardly and immediately cringe in embarrassment. What was that? I take a deep breath and prepare myself for the possibility of rejection.
              He walks toward me as I approach him and we meet somewhere in the middle.
              After a moment's silence I say, “Hi.”
              I bite my lip and wait for him to say something.
              “Hi,” he says before looking around, probably wondering what on earth I'm doing back at this place. “What are you doing here?”
              “I came to find you,” I explain. “I knew you'd be here.”
              “But why?” he asks sadly. I know that I hurt him and that causes an ache in my chest. Tears start to form on the rim of my eyes. I blow out a gush of air in a vain attempt to get a hold of myself and try to get the words out.
              “I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. I was wrong. I think I was just so busy being wrapped up in the guilt I felt over Sean and then my feelings for you that I just grasped at the first excuse to run and it was stupid because the truth is that I want to be with you. I just want to start over and I—”
              “What are you saying?”
              “I think it’s pretty obvious. I’m saying that—”
              But I don’t get to finish the words, because he has me in his arms, his lips eagerly pressing against mine. There's music in the air, time stalls and everything is right and fresh, like the first warm rain of summer. There's no one else in this moment except for me and this boy who somehow managed to mend my once-broken heart.
              He pulls away, holding me at arm's length before dropping his hands to his side.
              “Wait,” he says, taking a step back.
              “For what?” I ask slowly, wondering where he's going with this.
              “We need to get this right. If we're really going to try to do this we need to start over from the very beginning.”
              “Um, okay?”
              He tilts his head to the side and holds out his hand and says, “Hi, I'm Holden.”
              A warmth begins in the pit of my stomach, rising up through my chest and ending with a smile on my lips as I place my hand in his. “I'm Aria.”
              He gives me that breathtaking smile that I've grown to love over the last few months and it makes me feel like I'm right where I belong.
              “It's nice to finally meet you, Aria.”

The End

Acknowledgments

I'd like to thank my husband for “letting” me use the same line he used on me when he was trying to persuade me to date him (though he'd tell you he was simply “stating a fact”). I should point out that he was right—he really is the last guy I'll ever kiss.

Heather Sloan, Autumn Doughton, Komal Kant, Michelle Flick, and Elizabeth Hilburn—I couldn't do this without you! I don't know what I did to deserve to call you ladies my friends, but I'm so thankful that I get to! Much love to you all!

Aria and Holden's story is one that has been in my head for over a year
—I'm so glad that I finally get to share it with the rest of the world. I just hope that you love them as much as I do.

XOXO

About the author

Erica Cope lives in Missouri with her husband and their three children. She enjoys knitting, pretending she knows how to play her guitar, and reading pretty much anything you put in front of her.

You can find Erica on Facebook, Twitter (@EricaCope3), and she blogs at ericacope.com

Other books by Erica Cope

The Lark Trilogy:

Lark (Lark #1)

In the Shadows (Lark #2)

Coming soon:

Like the Dawn (Lark #3)

And now a sneak peek of

THIS SKY
 

by Autumn Doughton

PROLOGUE

This isn’t happening.

    Jamie and Julie were in the back passing Julie’s silver-encased iPhone between them. They were lost in a debate over which playlist to choose.

    “
No, no, no! I am not listening to girly chick rock for the next five hours.” Jamie’s head was bent but I could still make out his smoothly attractive features beyond the shock of his platinum blond hair.

    “
This is not chick rock,” Julie insisted. She released an annoyed grunt and made a grab for the phone. “If you’re going to be a jerk about it, we’ll just have to take turns. You, my friend, are seriously mistaken if you think I’m going to
subject myself to your God-awful show tunes the whole way to Vegas.”

   
Wyatt got my attention with an impatient whimper. His front paws were perched on the center console. He was staring straight ahead, his tail wagging and his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. A gloopy line of slobber trailed down through the white hairs on his chin.

    “
Are you ready for this Gwen?” Landon asked softly.

   
I turned and saw that he was looking right at me, his expression expectant. Both of his hands were poised on the steering wheel. Ribbons of silvery moonlight flooded in through the open car window and caught the hard angles of his face and the gentle curve of his upper lip.

    
Sucking in a deep breath, I shook my head slowly back and forth.

    
He leaned closer and let his impossibly dark eyes drift toward the backseat. “Do you want me to tell them to get out of the car? I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

    “
No,” I said calmly because freaking out wasn’t going to make the situation any less surreal. “We can’t.”

   
“I didn’t ask what we can and can’t do. I asked what you
wanted
. There’s a big difference.” He pushed a hand back into his hair like he always did when he was frustrated. “What do you
want
?”

    
You,
I thought.
I want to be transported to a parallel universe. I want things to stop feeling crazy and start making sense again. I want normal. I want real.

   
I stared down at the paper clenched in my hand, my eyes soaking in the name and address scrawled across it in blue ink. I was practically vibrating with emotions but when the words left my mouth, they were firm and solid. “I want the truth.”

   
One side of his mouth subtly turned up. He shifted the car into first gear and slowly released his left foot off the clutch. “Then let’s go find it for you.”

   
I lifted my eyebrows. “Just like that?”

   
He gave me the full smile—the one that cracked me wide open every single time.

    “
Just like that.”