Page 21 of Good Intentions, Vol. 3

Chapter Ten

Heather

Driving around this abandoned road in the middle of nowhere, I can’t help but feel crushed under all that’s been going on lately. Nick’s focus is on the road and it’s eerily silent. Ten days ago, I rushed out of Nick’s apartment in the middle of the night leaving him standing in his hallway with only his boxers on. I was convinced he will come out after me. When he didn’t I was convinced there will be flowers waiting for me in my office the next morning. When that didn’t happen, I spent all day waiting for his call.

I thought about texting him but then I would chicken out. Sure, we talked on the phone, even saw each other during those ten days, but it was always strictly business. Whenever I had a feeling or would see a look on his face that told me he will lose control and take me in his arms and make me forget about everything, his face would close off and he would leave. He stayed true to his threat. He didn’t come after me, he didn’t chase me and he definitely didn’t kiss me or tell me he loves me again.

Then today came.

We had to go check out a possible location for the new plant. Which meant we will spend the day together, just the two of us. I was on pins and needles of how this would go. For the first time since we met, we’re both single. I kept thinking he would do something. Something that would make me angry. Something that would make me cave and let him do what he wants. What both of us want.

But he did nothing. He asked me about the plant we were going to see, a little bit about the stats and when we arrived at the location, he was all business, following the realtor around and jotting down notes on what needs to be repaired or torn down and built again. I look at him sideways. He’s wearing his glasses again. God, he’s so handsome I can hardly breathe. I need to end this silence before I do something rash. Like, crawl over in his lap while he’s driving.

“When did you start wearing glasses?”

He glances at me, his eyes dull. “Six months ago.”

I wait for him to continue speaking, to guide this, but he looks back at the road and the silence envelops us again

I can’t do this anymore.

I can’t keep going back and forth like this.

I have to make up my mind.

“She left when I was fourteen,” I start giving him the information he asked, begged me to tell him ten days ago. I expect some kind of reaction but I get nothing. So, foolishly I keep talking. “But, it was bad even before she left. They fought constantly. God, so much yelling and accusations coming from both of them. How they ruined each other’s lives, how they could have been something, accomplish something only if they never met.”

I swallow the lump forming in my throat.

Those were the worst days of my life.

“After, it would become eerily quiet and when I got out of my room, I usually found Dad sitting in his chair, back bent and holding his head in his hands. The picture of a broken man. If she would leave after they had a fight, he would drink himself into a stupor and I had to get him into bed. Those nights were the worst. All he wanted was my Mom, but the problem was, the person he hated the most in this world, was also my Mom”

I sigh and look out of the window. He doesn’t fill the silence. Doesn’t acknowledge that I even said anything. So I keep going. It feels good to say it out loud. Liberating.

“I never dared to ask where Mom went. I think I knew subconsciously, but I didn’t want the conformation. Then one day, she asked me to come and have dinner with her. Just us girls, it’ll be fun. I was ecstatic cause I missed her so much. We barely spent any time together anymore. It was almost if they forgot I existed.”

I wait for him to say something.

He doesn’t.

“During the dinner, she dropped the bomb on me and told me that she and Dad are getting a divorce. That she met someone and wanted to be with him. I just sat there, stunned. I didn’t say anything, I didn’t even cry.” I’m crying now. “When we got home, it took her two hours to pack all her stuff up and leave. I didn’t see her for over a week, and when I finally did, she acted like nothing major happened. Like she didn’t change the course of all of our lives. Watching my Dad drink more and more, I promised myself I would never be like her. Then I met you,” I whisper the last part.

“I wanted you from the very first moment I laid eyes on you, I fell in love with you the first time you smiled at me and said good morning. I became lost in you that night when you found me in your shower. I’m scared Nick,” I confess. “I’m scared that you'll do the same thing to me that my Mom did to my Dad, and what we did to Claire.” I wring my hands in my lap and back down completely. “I don’t want Ben to have to go through what I did and I don’t ever want to live in fear of losing you.”

When he still doesn’t say anything, I look up and see that we’re no longer driving. We’re in the middle of nowhere on some lonely lane, all around us are green fields.

I look at him. He’s gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white and I fear he will tear it away.

“Nick,” I whisper but he opens his door and gets out of the car.

The sound of him shutting the door slices through me. It’s over. It’s really over. And it’s all thanks to my stupidity. I watch as he rounds the car and comes to my door. He won’t leave me here, will he?

“Get out,” The guttural sound is scary. I watch his face as I do as he said, trying to find something there, but he’s closed off.

Taking my hand, he starts walking and leads me to the hood of the car.

“Almost a half-million dollars and the car doesn’t have enough space,” he mutters to himself, his hands span my hips and he hoists me up and sits me on top of the hood.