Still Beating

The ensuing week is a blur. I put my brain in autopilot mode to get through work without a breakdown, slapping an overly forced smile onto my face. My students are restless and distracted with Spring Break quickly approaching, which works in my favor, because I don’t think they notice the dark circles under my eyes and my hands that are constantly shaking.

I make my way through the school parking lot that following Friday afternoon, releasing a long breath when I hop inside my car. My fingers clench around the steering wheel as the tension I’ve been holding onto all day—the façade—begins to dissolve.

It’s just me and my emotional demons now.

But we are interrupted when my phone lights up with a new text message. I’m taken aback when I see Mandy’s name.

Mandy: Meet me at the ice cream shop @ 4:30

My brows furrow, my knees starting to tremble as I sit and stare at the screen. I glance at the time, noting it’s already quarter after four, then turn the car on and head into town. I spot my sister’s Kia Soul parallel parked in front of the familiar building, so I pull into the space behind it. I haven’t spoken to Mandy in over a month. She’s refused dinner invitations from our parents, and has ignored the few texts I’ve sent her since my hospital release.

I don’t blame her. Not at all.

Which is undoubtedly why I’m terrified to face her right now.

I inhale a breath of courage as I slide out of the driver’s seat and make my way inside on shaky legs. The sun is shining warm and bright today, melting the lingering patches of sidewalk ice and offering a welcome taste of spring.

I can’t help but hope for another change of season today.

Mandy is sitting at a corner booth on her cell phone, her eyes lifting when the little bells on the door chime, alerting her of my presence. She stands to face me, then approaches the counter to order our ice cream cones—the birthday tradition we missed in November when I was busy being kidnapped and falling in love with her fiancé.

My throat tightens as we stand shoulder to shoulder and give the clerk our orders. We wait in silence while the treats are made, then handed to us over the counter. Like always, we take a quick bite—hers, strawberry, and mine, cookie dough—and head outside towards the nearby playground. We skip the secret handshake and the selfie in front of the building.

Our go-to swings are vacant as usual, likely due to the melting ice chunks dampening the seats. We swipe our hands over the puddles and sit down, then I wait with nervous anticipation for what happens next. I want to say something to break this belly-churning silence, but words are being elusive, stuck inside me like bubble gum.

I glance over at my sister who is swinging at a leisurely pace to my left. Her hair is in a perfectly coiffed bun on top of her head, her makeup impeccable. Her beauty has always taken my breath away. I never understood why she wanted to hide behind all the heavy foundation, loud colors, and fake eyelashes.

“I cheated on him, you know.”

I almost drop my ice cream cone. “What?”Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

“Last summer at Allie’s birthday party. Dean had the flu, so I went by myself. I had too much to drink, and…” She licks her hand as melted ice cream drips between her thumb and finger. “It was a huge mistake. I felt like shit. I betrayed a person I truly loved, all because of stupid insecurities—because of this desire to feel wanted and appreciated, even though I already was. I don’t know why it wasn’t enough… I don’t know why he wasn’t enough.”

I’m staring at her, my mouth open wide as ice cream spills onto my lap. I’m stunned by her confession. I don’t know what to say.

“I feel like all of this is karma smacking me in the face. And part of me knew, deep down, I had sealed our fate with that one, stupid decision, even though Dean never found out about it. I just… I never thought it would be you.” Mandy looks over at me, her eyes glossed over and spearing me with both guilt and disappointment. “You’ve always been the strong one. The lucky one. The good one. Everything you worked for, you got. Everything you put your mind to, you succeeded. You had the smarts and the good grades, the quick wit and sense of humor, the respectable job, the house. You have your own house, Cor… you’re not even thirty and you’re killing it.

“I had to take a GED just to pass high school. I’m barely making ends meet at the hair salon. I’ve lived in the same crappy, two-bedroom apartment since college.”

“Mandy…”

“All I had was Dean. He was my only trophy… my only success story.” She inhales a quick breath, then finishes, “I couldn’t handle the fact that you had him, too.”

God.

I’m absolutely dumbfounded, sitting slack-jawed on the swing with ice cream dribbling down my arm. I have to look away before my emotions boil over. “I-I never knew you felt like that. I’ve always had the complete opposite perspective. I’ve envied you my whole life—your beauty, your popularity, your bubbly personality. You always got your way. You were always celebrated and adored… the center of attention. I’ve just been hiding in your shadow.”

An abrupt laugh escapes her. “It’s funny how different things look on the other side.”

I’m not sure how to respond to that, so I sit quietly and process it instead. This whole time, Mandy has been jealous of me? The thought alone is preposterous.

Mandy continues a few minutes later after our truth bombs have sunk in. “This isn’t me forgiving you, Cor,” she says, biting her lip as she stares down at the patches of grass peeking through the melting layer of snow. “Not yet, anyway. I’m not ready… just like I’m not ready to forgive myself for my own actions. But I can recognize the fact that we’re all human and we all screw up. We all make big, messy, life-altering mistakes, and sometimes it’s for selfish, superficial reasons like what I did… and sometimes it’s because the universe throws you a curveball, forcing you in a direction you never saw coming.

“And while I can understand that, Cora, I really can, I just can’t accept it yet. I can’t handle the thought of family dinners with Dean at the table by your side, holding your hand, kissing your lips. I can’t imagine holidays or social gatherings or double dates, or God, becoming an aunt when I thought I was about to become a mother.”

Tears mix with ice cream as I close my eyes, sucking in a breath that singes my throat.

Mandy’s own tears leak out, streaking down her pink cheeks. “But what I can accept is the fact that we weren’t meant to be and what’s done is done, regardless of how or why. Dean deserves to be happy, and if that’s with you, I won’t stand in the way. But I can’t stand by your side either… not now. Not yet. Not until my heart fully heals.” She raises her chin, glancing up at the cloudy sky, one hand holding her cone and the other gripping the swing. “Maybe someday.”

Maybe someday.

I fiddle with the heart pendant around my neck with sticky fingers, swallowing hard, letting her words fill me up. Maybe someday sounds a lot like hope, and hope is all I have right now.

It’s seven P.M. and I’m cuddled up on the couch watching HGTV with Penny in my lap and Jude curled into a ball beside me. It’s almost like I’m expecting his text to come through as I reach for my phone at the same time it zings to life with a new message.

Dean: Can we talk?

We’ve seen each other every Friday night for the past few weeks.

Only, there hasn’t been much talking involved.

Me: Sure. I was thinking the same thing. Can I call you?

Dean: I’d rather talk in person.

Oh. Well, maybe talking is code for sex, after all.

Me: Okay.

Dean: I’ll be over soon

I run into the bathroom to freshen up, taking my hair down, brushing my teeth, and spritzing a few pumps of perfume onto my neck. The dogs alert me of his arrival fifteen minutes later, pawing at the door when he knocks.

“It’s open,” I call out, applying a touch of lip gloss before joining him at the front of the house. Dean is crouched down in the entryway, scratching Jude’s stomach like he always did with Blizzard. Penny is circling his leg, begging for attention that he quickly provides. I can’t help but smile at the image. “Hey.”

He glances up, his expression disguising whatever it is he may be thinking, then he rises to his feet. “Hey.”

Usually, this is the point where we pounce on each other, but since I actually do want to talk first, I’m not sure how to proceed—so, I just kind of stand there, awkwardly playing with my hair and tapping my bare foot against the wood floor.

Dean takes the lead, letting out a sigh as he approaches me. “Thanks for letting me stop by. There’s some stuff I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Me, too… I was actually going to text you about grabbing coffee this weekend. But this works.” Our eyes are holding tight, making me nervous. I gulp. “Um, have a seat.”

We make our way to the couch, Dean trailing behind me and sitting farther away from me than I’d prefer. All I want to do is jump into his arms and kiss him senseless. We lock eyes again, both of us out of our element. Neither of us fully prepared to face the fallout from last week. I lower my head and we both speak at the same time.

“So, I—”

“I wanted to—”

Dean clears his throat. “You go first.”

I gather up my courage and nod, twisting on the couch so I’m facing him, one leg pulled up in front of me. I curl my fingers around my ankle as my heart thumps wildly in my chest.

Just be honest. Tell him what you want. Don’t hold back.

“I, um, just wanted to say how sorry I am for dragging you down into my dark hole for the past few weeks. Hiding you in the shadows. Keeping you at a distance. Letting you in, then pulling away. It wasn’t fair because I know you wanted more… I’ve just been so ashamed, so confused, and I haven’t been handling it right.”

I watch as his eyes float over my face, his jaw tight, his eyebrows creased. He doesn’t say anything, so I keep going.

“I talked to Mandy today. She invited me out for ice cream—our traditional birthday cone at the park. We had a long talk, and I think it’s going to be okay.” I scoot closer to him on the couch, reaching for his hand. “I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but I’m hopeful Mandy will accept everything one day. She even said she was talking to this new guy and there’s a spark, and maybe someday we can both move on and—”

“Cora, I’m leaving.”

His words flip me upside down and I drop his hand. “What?”

A look of pain stretches across Dean’s face as he blows out a hard breath. “A job transfer opened up and I’m taking it.”

Disbelief rips through me, cinching my chest. I turn away from him, pulling my lips between my teeth as I try to process what he’s telling me. The heart that was beating so rapidly from nerves, from excitement, from the possibility of actually being with the man I love, is now cracking in two. “Oh.” It’s hardly a whisper, barely a breath. “Where are you going?”

He pauses, glancing away. “Bloomington.”

I feel blindsided. “That’s three hours away.”

“I know.”

“When?” I’m almost afraid to ask.

Dean replies, still gazing off over my shoulder, “A week. I start next Monday… I’m putting my townhouse up for rent and getting an apartment until I’m settled.”

A small sob breaks through, despite my best efforts to hold it in. Dean takes my hand, but I pull away as if he struck me with a match. “Please don’t try to comfort me when you’re the one breaking my heart.” I rise from the couch and walk over to the bay window, desperate to get away. Desperate to hide how much he’s hurting me.

“Corabelle…”

I whip around, finding him standing a few feet behind me. “Don’t call me that.”

“Listen to me,” he says, taking cautious steps toward me, like I’m either going to bite or run. “This is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make and I’m doing it because I know, I know, it’s for the best. I’ve tried so hard to be the one who pulls you through this, but I’m only holding you down. I’m preventing you from healing.”

“That’s bullshit. You’ve been the only thing keeping me going.”

Dean paces forward, closing the gap, and reaches out his hands to cup my face. “You’re right. And that’s why I have to go.” He lowers one of his hands until it’s pressed up against my splintered heart. “You need to keep yourself going. It’s the only way.”

I pull back sharply. “You don’t get to touch me anymore.”

He looks wounded, like I just shoved a blade through his chest. “Cora, please. Try to understand.”

“Oh, I understand. You’ve made yourself perfectly clear.” My legs are trembling as I wipe away the fallen tears. “You’ve had your fun, and now you’re moving on.”

His face flashes with fury.

Shit.

I move back on instinct, afraid of the words he’s about to cut me down with.

“Fun?” Dean repeats, advancing on me, his eyes alight with incredulity. “You think being abducted by a serial killer, shackled to a pole for three weeks, forced to rape my fiancé’s sister at gunpoint, and murdering a man in cold blood with my bare fuckin’ hands has been fun?” His fingers are balled into fists at his sides, his face a mask of anger. “Or do you think falling for you has been fun? Falling in love with the only woman in the world I can’t have, watching her slip through my fingers, little by little, day by day, only to find her nearly dead from an overdose?

“Or maybe you’re referring to the sex. Sex is always fun, right? It’s been so fucking goddamn fun trying to reach you the only way I can, making love to you while you can’t even look in me in the eyes, and trying to collect all the little bones you throw at me without ever truly having you. It’s been loads of fun waking up every morning to an empty bed with my sheets reeking of you, mocking me with the reminder that you’re not there. And it’s been especially fun having to uproot my whole life because I care about you so damn much, I can’t bear to keep watching you suffer.”

I’m breathing heavy, almost as hard as he is, my guilt battling it out with shock and rage. I used the wrong word, yes, but this still feels like a slap in the face to everything we’ve been through. “Don’t play the martyr, Dean. If you really loved me, you would stay.”

“I do love you.” He’s on me again, his hands on my shoulders. “I love you. Madly. But with mad love comes madness, and what you need right now is peace. Don’t you get it, Cora? Don’t you see?” His grip on me tightens, his face directly in front of mine. “I’m leaving because I love you.”

I don’t get it.

I don’t see.

All I see is him not choosing me.

All I see is abandonment.

“I’m a big girl. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me.”

Dean drops his head, breathing out through his nose. “You asked me to tie you up.”

“So?” I push him away and cross my arms. “A lot of couples do that.”

“Not us. Not you and me.” He runs both hands through his hair, linking them behind his neck. “Jesus, Cora… that was a huge fucking red flag. How could you ask me to do that after what we went through? How could you want that?”

“I don’t know!” I throw my hands up. “It just came out. Why is it such a big deal?”

“Because…” Dean closes in on me again, tears in his eyes, hands still behind his head as if he needs to hold himself back from touching me. “Because you have a hole you’re trying to fill. A void. And this is going to sound totally messed up, but I think a part of you misses that basement.”

My eyes widen. My stomach drops. “How dare you.”

“I’m serious, Corabelle. Nothing else mattered down there but you and me and trying to survive. I was all you had, and we clung to each other, and we were allowed to. We had to. But now we’re back in the real world and everything’s different, and I think you miss that.”

I’m shaking my head through his words, rejecting every single one. “That’s sick. You don’t know me at all.”

“I do know you. I know you pretty damn well.” Dean sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as a look of defeat washes over him. “I don’t want to end things like this. I don’t want you hating me.”

“Well, you don’t get a choice in that, Dean,” I say through a bitter laugh. “You’re the one ending it—you don’t get to control the fallout, too.”

He steps back, running his tongue along his teeth and shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. I guess that’s fair.”

“It’s probably best if you leave now.”

So I can go sob into my dogs for the next decade.

Dean flicks his eyes up to me. There is so much pain there, so much uncertainty. But he’s doing it anyway. He’s leaving me alone to pick up the pieces of our shared trauma. I turn away, afraid I’m going to collapse with grief if I keep looking at him.

And then he’s scooping me into his arms, holding me tightly to his chest, his mouth against my ear. “God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to walk out your door without making you understand why I need to do this… but I realize you won’t understand until I’m gone. And I’m so fucking sorry, Cora. The last thing I want to do is give you more pain, but I promise this is the right thing to do.” Dean clutches me, squeezes me, his hand cradling the back of my head and threading through my hair. He peppers kisses along my neck as I start to cry uncontrollably. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry, my sweet Corabelle. I love you so goddamn much.”

I can’t stop crying. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop.

Dean pulls back slowly, his hands lifting to my cheeks and wiping away my tears. He kisses my forehead, my nose, landing on my lips with a final goodbye. “You’re still my girl. You’ll always be my girl.”

Then he releases me, turning around and heading to the front door.

I’m overcome with emotion—with love and sorrow and regret and anger—and I call out to him as his hand reaches for the doorknob. “Wait.”

Dean hesitates and faces me.

I reach behind my neck and unclasp my necklace chain, moving towards him. His eyes drift from my face to the gold locket I’m holding out as I approach him. He’s shaking his head, not wanting to believe what he’s seeing.

I take his hand in mine and outstretch his fingers, delicately placing the locket into his palm. He closes his eyes, fisting it, and heaves out a deep breath.

I leave him with parting words before I turn away: “I wish you fought for me as hard as you fought to get out of that basement.”

I should have turned around sooner, walked away faster, and disappeared down the hallway… but I waver. I glance at him before I retreat, catching his reaction.

I have seen my fair share of horrors, and many of them still keep me up at night.

But I fear nothing will ever haunt me quite like the look I see in Dean’s eyes before he steps out my front door and walks out of my life.