Page 23

23

Sahara

A s I watch him walk out the door, I put my hand on my stomach, but nothing can stop it from churning. I shouldn’t have waited to tell him. Finding out from someone else was the ultimate slap in the face. Heck, I should have been honest from the start. He’s right about one thing. I showed him little respect, had no faith in him, simply assumed he wouldn’t like me, when honestly, he never really knew me—and I never gave him that chance.

Back in high school, we ran in different circles, but when it comes right down to it, I didn’t run in any circles. I kept to myself, never opening up to anyone, including Kalen. It’s no wonder he never spared me a glance, and now, I don’t blame him. I’m not a very good person.

As my family calls out to me after Kalen slams the front door, I hurry to the bathroom. I close the door and turn on the tap, hoping the sound will drown out my tears. Even if it does, there’s nothing I can do to hide my red, puffy eyes. I have loss and hurt written all over my face.

I step from the bathroom to find Charlie waiting for me. His eyes hold a measure of worry, and it’s awful to say, but I like that he’s showing concern. I never really felt a part of this family.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“No,” I cry out, and he pulls me into his arms.

“I’m sorry, little sis. I take it I shouldn’t have invited him.”

I mumbled that he shouldn’t have against his shirt, getting it soaked with my tears. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “Do you want me to go talk to him? Try to fix this?”

“No, it’s over.”

He smooths his hand down my hair, and I hear more footsteps coming into the hall. God, this is so damn embarrassing. Why did this have to happen here? My whole family watching my collapse wasn’t on my bingo ticket today. I’m sure I’m going to hear: You never should have moved to Boston, or I told you so, or something to belittle my choices in life and that I should have followed the path they wanted for me.

“Honey, what happened?” Mom asks. I don’t lift my face. I keep it buried in my brother’s shirt.

“I think she needs a minute,” he answers her says quietly, and I really appreciate his support.

A beat of silence and then, “Should I call Jeremiah back?”

Oh, my dear God!

I push back from my brother, and square my shoulders. “No, you should not call Jeremiah.” I take a deep fueling breath. “Mom,” I begin, and Dad puts his arms around her as my brothers and sisters stand still, all eyes on me. “I know I’ve been the black sheep in the family.” Mom opens her mouth, but I hold my hand up to stop her. “I know I’ve never been the daughter you wanted, never followed the path you had laid out for me, and I’m sorry for that. But I needed to find my own way in life. Heck, I needed to find out who I was.”

“Come sit,” Dad insists and I shake my head, needing to get this all out.

“I love what I do in Boston. I love my job as a librarian, and I love being on stage in the local theater. I never thought I could put myself out there like that but I did. I’m proud of myself for that.” A deep breath and then, “I know you’ll never be proud of that, but it wasn’t easy for me to perform in front of an audience. I pushed myself, gave it my all, acting helped me discover another part of myself. I’ll never be Meryl Streep, but I think I’m pretty good.”

Mom and Dad nod and I glance around at my brothers and sisters, as I spill my heart out.

“Kalen is a good man. A great man.” Tears start again. “I messed up, made mistakes. But they’re my mistakes. I can’t grow, can’t discover who I am or what I want if I don’t make mistakes.” My words shake when I add, “I love him, and he had every right to walk out that door because I haven’t been honest with him.”

“Darian…” Mom whispers, a look of sadness overcoming her. “I’m so sorry.”

I snort. “Are you? You were ready to call Jeremiah.”

She glances down, a sheepish look coming over her. “Right. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You shouldn’t have invited him in the first place. You know I asked you not to set me up.” She nods in agreement. “I realize I’m not what you want me to be. I just wish you could love and respect me for who I am.”

“Who are you, Sahara?” Charlie asks and I smile at him, happy that he asked the question.

My mind walks me back to the night I encountered Kalen in the closet, and all the fun we had right up until he walked out the door tonight. My God, the things I did with that man. Not just in the bedroom but out of it too. I am a woman of many faces, but all of those faces belong to me. They are a part of me. Parts that came to life, because of Kalen. Darien is a part of me. Sahara is a part of me.

“I’ve finally figured it out,” I respond.

“Darien…uh, I mean Sahara,” Mom begins and I nearly collapse. She’s refused to call me Sahara. This is the very first time, and it actually steals the breath from my lungs, because it means the beginning of something new, a new supportive path forward. One without Kalen, and that hurts my heart, but I think my family might just have my back. She takes my hands in hers. “I’m so sorry. I’ve only ever wanted what was best for you.”

I believe that. Image is important to her, but deep down, I believe she cares about me, and wants me happy. “Thank you.”

“I know I pushed you in a different direction.” She frowns, and pats my hand. “Maybe mother doesn’t always know best.”

“Maybe not.”

She pulls me into her arms. “I’m sorry, Sahara.”

A small chuckle rumbles in my throat. “You can call me Darien.”

She inches back, tears in her eyes. “I’ll call you what you want me to call you.”

I nod, my heart filling with warmth. “Thank you.” Everyone shuffles, and the next thing I know we’re having a big family hug, and everything about this fills some of the broken spaces in my heart.

“Why don’t we all sit for dinner?” Mom suggests.

We part, and even though I don’t have an appetite, I follow everyone into the kitchen. We all help get the dishes on the table, and even though everyone keeps glancing at me with real concern, the conversation soon turns to the arrival of the twins, and while my heart is crushed, I’m happy that they can talk about good things on the horizon.

Once dinner is over, we all clean up, and instead of playing games, I head to my bedroom. No one protests, knowing I need alone time to sort things through. In my room, I open my phone and find a bunch of messages from Gina.

Gina: Can you call me?

Gina: Are you okay?

Gina: Kalen called me.

Gina: He’s pretty messed up, Sahara.

I understand that. Everything I did messed him up and I’ll never forgive myself because he’s a good man who deserves better than me. I run my fingers over the phone and stare at the words through blurry eyes. What do I even say? That’s when I realize I didn’t just lose Kalen, I lost everyone, including Taylor. She’s going to hate me, too. I finally text back.

Me: I’m sorry Gina. I messed up, and Kalen is better off without me in his life.

With that, I throw my phone on my bed, roll over and cry myself to sleep. I wake late, and smell the turkey cooking downstairs. It actually turns my stomach, and I half consider just driving back to Boston. I pick my phone up to see a text from Taylor, telling me she’s with Elias in California, and things are going well. I guess she doesn’t know what I did to her brother. If he’s protecting her, then I’m going to protect her too.

Is Kalen alone?

Oh God, the thoughts of that gut me. All he ever wanted was a big Thanksgiving dinner. I’ve destroyed the man in more ways than one. I push the covers off and walk to the window. Wind blows leaves down the street as voices rise up from downstairs. My foot hits my still packed suitcase as I turn and I bend down to unzip it.

The second I see my running clothes, they fill me with joy and sadness. I brought the clothes thinking I might get a run in, to get in better shape for running with Kalen, but now that’s not going to happen and of course that fills me with sadness.

As my heart sits heavy, I swipe at the tears that are falling again and pull out my clothes. Maybe a good hard run will help me figure out how I’m going to manage my life back in Boston—without Kalen and my new friends who’ve become my family.

I strip out of my pajamas and tug on my sweats and sweatshirt. It’s chilly out, but once I start running, I’ll warm up. Though, I’m not sure anything will ever warm this new cold inside my bones.

Downstairs, I walk into the kitchen, and a hush falls over Mom, Dad, Aspen and Victoria as they turn to me. Clearly, I’m the morning’s topic of conversation. They glance at my clothes, and it actually puts a small smile on my face. I guess they too are learning this new version of me.

“I’m going for a run.” Their eyes go big. “I run now,” I explain.

Mom nods. “Coffee first?”

I nod, grateful for a cup. “Always.”

She pours me a cup and I stand at the counter and sip it as they sit around the table. Mom keeps casting me quick glances, and her worry wraps around my heart and hugs tight. I finish the coffee and put the cup in the dishwasher.

“I’ll be about an hour.” They all nod, worry brimming in their eyes as I head outside. On the sidewalk, I begin a slow jog. I fill my lungs with cool air, and work to clear my head so I can figure out what’s next. I turn a few corners, and when I spot a coffee shop up ahead, I slow, my heart aching as I remember my run with Kalen and meeting Gina at the Nook.

I slow in front of the coffee shop and pull the door open. I’m greeted with delicious scents and walk up to the counter and order banana bread. Banana bread. Everything that reminds me what I had and lost. Honestly, I’m just torturing myself, and maybe I deserve it.

“Hey,” I hear from behind and spin to find Jeremiah standing there.

God, this isn’t awkward at all.

“Jeremiah,” I begin. “How are you?”

He smooths his hand over his hair, and I step to the side to pick up my order. “I’m good.” He puts in his order and moves to the side with me.

“Ah, about dinner.”

He laughs. “It’s okay, Darien. Your mom has been trying to set us up for as long as I can remember.”

Of course, he still calls me Darien. My mom still does and he knows me from high school, which makes me wonder…

“You wanted to come?”

“I like you, Darien. I’ve always liked you.” My heart jumps. “I also understand, you like me as a friend. But hey, a guy could hope, right? Until I found out you had a boyfriend.”

I nod. Had, being the key word here. “Jeremiah,” I say, as my order comes up. I snatch it from the counter and stand waiting until his arrives. “You said you liked me.” He nods. “What is it you like? What is it you know about me that you like?”

He furrows his brow, clearly thrown by my question, but as I wait, he shrugs and starts with, “Well, for one, you’re super smart.”

Kalen said I was smaht.

I raise my brow, waiting for more. He nods and continues with, “You’re a booklover, and we have that in common.”

Kalen knew I loved books. He loves books too. Heck, he even read to me.

Jeremiah grins as he takes in my attire. “You’re a runner now.”

Kalen and I ran together. “Yeah, I’m a runner now.” I fall quiet, lost in thoughts and he speaks again.

“You’re supportive.” I lift my gaze to meet his. “You helped me with my algebra in high school.”

I also helped Taylor run lines when she needed it and supported her when she talked about Elias.

His coffee order is called and he reaches for it. He points to a table and I follow him to it. We sit and he continues, “You also give great advice. Remember when Rachel dumped me, and you talked with me, helped me through it?”

I gave Kalen advice on his father, and I think it helped.

As I listen to Jeremiah, I have an epiphany, and I shoot up from my seat. I might not have told Kalen that I was that girl from the closet, but he did, in fact, see all my different faces—even the ones from high school. He did know that girl, and he liked all those parts of me. God, I need to fix this. I can’t face a life in Boston without him in it.

So, what are you going to do about it, Sahara?

Honestly, I’m not that shy meek girl anymore. I fought to get out from under my parents’ thumb, fought to find my own path in this world, fought to take library science at college, and fought to discover who I really am inside. I’ve always lived by the philosophy that anything worth having is worth fighting for. The truth is, I’m still me, but I’ve grown in so many ways, learned so much of myself since moving to Boston, since meeting Kalen. I’ve discovered who I am and what I want. What I want is Kalen.

The man is absolutely worth fighting for, but am I fighting a losing battle? As Jeremiah watches me, I grab my phone and text Gina.

Me: Is Kalen home?

Gina: Ash invited him over last night but he said no.

My heart squeezes tight. Kalen alone during the holidays is the last thing I want.

Gina: He said he wasn’t going to be alone.

My heart races. What does that mean? Is he going to spend the night with some bunny? Taylor and Elias are away. Oh God, that would definitely be the end of us.

Gina: Don’t read too much into that.

Great, now she can read my mind.

Gina: I think you two need to talk.

Me: Do you even think he’ll talk to me?

Gina: There’s only one way to find out.

She’s right, there is only one way to find out…

I thank Jeremiah, who is completely confused, and run all the way back home, a new kind of urgency about me. The second I walk in the door and see my mother, understanding falls over her face. “Go,” she orders. “Go do what you need to do.”

I kiss her cheek. “Thanks, Mom.” I shower quickly, dress, and toss my bag over my shoulder. Downstairs, Mom has a big Thanksgiving dinner packed for two, and her support means the world to me. After a quick goodbye to my family, I hurry out the door and drive straight to Kalen’s house. When I get there, I see his car is in the driveway.

I hurry to the door, and knock. For a second, I consider using my key but if he’s in there hating me—and he’s not alone—I’m not about to enter, unwanted. All hope of making this right begin to fade as his door remains shut.

Not giving up, I bang again, and hit the doorbell a dozen times. I wait and wait and when no response comes, I think about texting him, but no, he’s inside and is making it quite clear that he doesn’t want to talk to me. My heart sinks into the pit of my stomach.

Oh God, if he won’t talk to me, maybe there isn’t any way to fix this…