“Can’t you just send a holiday newsletter like most folks do?” She grins.
“I already got the position at the hospital; I need to see this through. Just think of it as an extension of my work experience.”
“And it won’t be forever?” She bats her eyes.
“I don’t want to make any promises. But you know that Sunnyville is only a few hours away. Remember, we’ve got all the wine that you could ask for too, you like wine, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I do like wine.” Cass nods.
“See, so when you come and visit me, it won’t be so bad.”
“You promise that we won’t stop being friends?” Cass asks.
“I promise you.”
She steps forward and hugs me. “This will just be like a break, and then once you get settled, once you get used to whatever your new schedule will be, then we will plan for me to come out, right?” She says into my hair.
“Sounds like an absolutely awesome plan.” I reply, feeling a little choked up. I hug her a little harder and then we separate.
“Gosh, I feel like this is a breakup. Okay, before we start crying like babies, I think that was the last of the boxes. Are you going to be okay to drive, you can stay here another night and I really won’t complain.” She sniffs.
“I’m not going to prolong the inevitable. I’ve got to do this, and it’s going to be great.”
I rented a cute little place on the side of a hill. It’s a small cottage with plenty of character and just far enough away from my parents that they won’t immediately know that I’ve come back into town. I need a few days to acclimate and to figure out what I want to say to them before anything. It’s not like I haven’t had over ten years of conversations in the mirror, practicing my coming home.
Everything is different here in Sunnyville from when I was a teenager.
Ten years ago, my life fully went to hell. When my father took one last look at me in that hospital bed, shook his head and told me that I was never welcome back into their home. I took the rest of the money out of the bank account that I knew my parents would drain as soon as they remembered, got the hell out of town, and didn’t look back.
Now here I am. I’m back in Sunnyville with a plan to show those that thought so lowly of me, that I resulted to something and not nothing—as they continuously told me that I would. And with a plan to see the man who I loved and left without a word.
I know that I’m torturing myself by coming back here, but I’ve always been a glutton for punishment. What if my ex wants nothing to do with me? It would be understandable. Or what if he’s married now, happy with children of his own?
Things that I’ve wondered about over the years; and have kicked myself in the ass for not keeping track of life back home or reaching out all these years.
Can that be forgivable?
My truck is unpacked and I’m standing at the kitchen counter waiting for the frozen pizza to finish cooking. I grab one box that I left out and rummage through it. At the bottom, I find my senior year yearbook and place my hand on the cover.
This was a year that I didn’t want to happen. I wanted a do-over, asked for it so many times, but I never got it. I made mistakes, a lot of them.
But I was young, dumb, and thought that I knew all the answers.
I hated my parents and would defy them at every turn. However, I never asked for them to hate me back.
My crush became a reality when I turned from the ugly duckling to the beautiful goose the summer before senior year. You could say that I was a bit of punk and a whole lotta rock ’n roll with curves and sass. I knew it walking onto campus on the first day of school in a short skirt and with a sway of my hips—he took notice.
We were inseparable all the way until the day that I left.
The very same day that my life changed.
2
Rogan
The Past
11 Years Ago
The constant beeping is pissing me off, but my entire body is in pain with a heaviness on my left shoulder.
Even my eyes are hurting. I can’t open them, they feel too heavy.
What the hell happened?
Where am I?
“Doctor, any idea when he will wake up?” I hear my mother say in a worried tone.
She’s close in the same room, but I can tell that she’s not exactly right beside me.
“Don’t worry, it will be soon enough,” the other voice says in response.
“How long will he be here in the hospital? I don’t want to get a hefty insurance bill.”
“Ma’am, after his shoulder surgery, he will probably be here for about 3 days. We’ll remove the bandages and sutures and have him meet with a physical therapist. The physical therapist will give you take home exercises and additional information. He also must see an ortho in six to eight weeks about removing the cast on his leg. We’ll put in the orders to assure that at that time, the physical therapist switches up and begins strength training on his leg as well. There are public programs that you can sign up for that can assist you with medical bills, but it’s imperative that your son gets all this treatment. I would hate to see permanent damage from not getting the medical attention that he needs to heal from this accident.”
“Three days is going to cost so much,” she complains.
I force myself to open my eyes. It hurts, they feel swollen, and the room is bright.
But I do it.
“Ah, speaking of the devil.” A blurry figure steps closer to me, the man who has been speaking to my mother.
I blink a few times and
