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“I am glad. I have never known my little sis to back away from anything she wants, so be brave. I love you.” We hug and I take a second to soak in his bravery. He lets me go, kisses my cheek and walks out the house. Here goes nothing.
Instead of driving, I decide to walk down our main street and soak in the sights and smells of the festival. People wave at me, smiling as they celebrate love in the town that practically invented the holiday. I was gone for six months but it felt like years. I missed this, the sense of community and friendship. I can never imagine living anywhere else forever but here. “So it’s true I see.” I hear the annoying scratchy sound behind me, and I want to ignore it, but that would be all over town before I made it to my destination. So, I paste on my fake smile and turn.
“Siobhan,” I say, hoping she can hear the sarcasm dripping from her name.
“I have to admit when I heard the rumors I didn’t believe it. I mean there is no way little miss perfect cheated on the Mark Bishop and got knocked up, but it seems I was wrong.” I want to smack the snide look off her face but then that would make me late for Mark and right now, there is no one I owe an explanation too but him. “Maybe now that he has seen your big ass stomach he will stop moping for you, and I can get in on the action.” This bitch.
“Keep dreaming, sweetheart. Even if what you were saying was true, he wouldn’t come within two feet of you. Especially considering half the football has been closer to you than that. Now if you'll excuse me.” Tossing my hair with more confidence than I feel, I walk away. I look calm to anyone watching, but on the inside I am a mess. Is that what everyone thinks? That I ran away and got pregnant by someone else? Is that what Mark is thinking? The closer I get to the ravine, the more my steps falter. I keep going only because I know I owe it to him to be truthful.
It didn't hit me that I was scared he wouldn’t be here until I see him sitting on the blanket I had sent with the basket, his hands in his bunched up lap, as he looks pensively into the water. “Do you remember the first time I brought you here?” he asks, his back still to me.
“Of course I do. It was special and beautiful.”
“When we left that day, I started planning our life almost immediately. That moment changed everything for me, and I swore it did for you too.” Oh God.
“It did, Mark. I swear it. I had never felt so loved and connected to anyone then I did that night. I felt deeply happy for the first time, like I had found my place.” He doesn’t respond and my heart cracks a little more. Sitting beside him, I want to reach out and touch him, tell him I still love him and everything about our relationship is everything I want. I want him to grab me and say those things to me that make my panties wet and cause goosebumps to ride my arm. I want him to demand I give him everything like he used to, not allowing me to hold anything back.
Tentatively, I touch his arm and he jumps up, running his hands through his hair. “Then why the fuck did you do it, Tiff. How could you leave me?” God. I did this to this beautiful man. I broke him. Now I have to put him back together.
Chapter Ten
MARK
I have been on a rollercoaster for the past few days. First thing in the morning when I am having a new gift sent to her, everything seems right, possible and climbable. By the end of the day, I am back to doubting everything I thought I knew and getting over the pain seems insurmountable.
When I got the basket from her today, I felt the first spark of real hope and couldn’t wait for the time. Getting here first, I had time to sit and stare into the ravine, reminiscing on the times we used to come here, and all of the pain came back. I am not talking about a mosquito bite size pain. I mean a stabbing pain, deep in my gut and heart filled with fear of the unknown and uncertainty.
I feel her hand touch me and I can’t contain myself. I know if her fingers graze my skin ever so slightly I will melt, and everything will be unresolved. No. I need answers. She looks like she wants to run, but then she pulls her shoulders back and looks at me. “I did what I thought was best,” she says, her voice steady and clear. Me on the other hand, I feel the heat rising. Best? Best for who? Standing, I spread my legs and fold my arms, staring at her.
