Page 65 of Memories with Fire

“I was across the country,” she whispers when my sobs have quieted marginally. “I didn’t know what was going on. She told me it was the one thing I could do for you from where I was.”

“You lied to me,” I accuse on a gasping breath.

There’s a sound on the other end that tells me tears are close if they aren’t already falling down her cheeks. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

“He’s back,” I tell her, the words falling out of my mouth a mile a minute. I don’t know if I’m actually talking to Cindi, or if I just need the words out in the world because I can’t hold onto them any longer. “He’s back and he did what he did the first time, making me fall for him, but this time he has a fiancée and a baby, and I don’t know what to do. I can’t breathe.”

“Whoa, whoa. Hailey, slow down,” she urges, calmer than I would have given her credit for a moment ago. “Take a breath. Start from the beginning.”

And though I want to hate her right now, and I don’t forgive a single thing she did, I sit up and muster the strength to tell her everything. Because I need it out. Out of my head, out of my heart. Plus, Cindi was there from the beginning. She knew how much I loved Luke, and how much it destroyed me when he was gone. Even if she’s complicit with what my mom did, if there’s anyone who might understand, it’s her.

When I’m done, she cautiously asks, “Could there be another explanation for this woman?”

My lips form a tight line as I stare out the windshield unseeing. “Not one that would explain why he didn’t tell me about her.”

Another thought occurs to me, connecting a bunch of dots that were missing before. I gasp, covering my mouth momentarily as I work it out in my head. “Oh my god, this is what he was hiding from me. This is what he didn’t want to tell me that night.” My jaw snaps shut, my teeth grinding together. “I wonder if they had some crazy fight, and he decided to screw off so he could come find me. Or maybe he got cold feet about the wedding and baby, and needed to come find me, resolve some unfinished business.”

There’s a hum of breath that comes through the line, telling me Cindi doesn’t agree. “Hailey, I know I don’t know Luke now, but doesn’t it seem far-fetched that he’d move his entire life to a different state if that was the case?”

“How am I supposed to know? I had no idea he had a fiancée or a baby on the way. Obviously, I don’t know him at all.”

A thought that has renewed tears sliding down my cheeks. Slower than before, but no less painful.

There’s a long pause on the other end, and I can practically see my old best friend ruminating about how to say something. It was never often that Cindi didn’t just blurt things out, so this seems a little odd for her. I’m about to tell her to spit it out when she finally does it on her own.

“I think you need to take some time and really think about all of this. Sort yourself out. You seem overwhelmed by everything, which makes sense considering everything you told me. But then I think you need to talk to Luke. Or maybe talk to him before you sort yourself out. Things don’t seem right about this, Hails.”

The thought of talking to him right now isn’t something I can think about. She’s right, though. Sorting myself out is probably a good plan, and now that I’ve told the whole story out loud, I feel slightly more capable of doing so.

“I have to go,” I tell her, glancing at the clock. My appointment with Dr. Rinkins is in twenty minutes, and it’s at least fifteen minutes to get there.

“I’m sorry, Hailey. I know that doesn’t change things, but I thought I was doing the right thing.”

I swallow thickly around a lump of emotion in my throat. One more thing to add to the jumble in my head. “I don’t forgive you. Not right now. Maybe not ever.”

“I understand. I wouldn’t either,” she whispers, heartbreak and sadness laced in her words.

Without another word, I hang up, shutting my phone off, and sit back for a moment, staring out into the world through eyes that are sore, and no doubt red. It’s a quiet street without much action. The way my life used to be. The way I prefer it. These days I feel more like roadkill on the freeway, getting driven over time and again.

By the time I rally what strength I have left and head to my appointment, I only have a minute to spare. I’m normally early to things, so it doesn’t sit well with me when the receptionist leads me straight into Dr. Rinkins’ office without having me sit down and wait at all. When I walk in, the therapist looks up from her desk and smiles warmly. Glasses are perched on her pert nose which she pushes up into her blonde highlighted hair, gesturing to a chair on the other side of her desk for me to take. I do, but not because I want to.

“Hello, Hailey. How are you?” Dr. Rinkins’ tone is just as welcoming as her smile, but I don’t let it fool me.

The shaking stopped while I was talking to Cindi, but I’m jittery again all of a sudden. Nervous to be here. Maybe it was a good thing I had no time to sit and wait, stewing in my own thoughts of what being here meant.

I glance around the room, finding the tan, oversized chair I’m sitting in unnerving. A small love seat is angled in the corner of the room. Large cushions sit at either end, a cozy looking blanket laying over the top. I can’t help but wonder if anyone ever uses it, or if it’s just there for show.

It’s probably all supposed to be relaxing, comforting even, but I find it too cliché to feel either of those things. It all makes me antsy.

“Good. I’m good.”

I’m anything but good. What am I supposed to tell this woman? Should I be asking about my job? My tenure as a paramedic? Am I supposed to talk about the accident last week and how I could have died? Or maybe I should be telling her all about the two timing dirtbag that’s probably packing up the engine to head back to the firehouse, if he’s not already there. Or maybe I should save that and instead spill the anger I have towards my mother, and now my friend.

Jumping up from the chair, unable to sit, I move around it into the empty space in the office to pace with my thoughts. Yes, maybe I should tell her about my mother. I’ve been burying most of those feelings for the last week, hiding them away so I don’t have to deal with them, but maybe I should. Maybe getting some of that pent up frustration out would be a good idea.

Except if I’m going to tell anyone, I’d rather be telling my mother how much she ruined my life. Even more so with today’s revelations.

The way I see it, which seems pretty clear to me at this moment, if my mother hadn’t lied to me in the first place, Luke and I probably would have been together ten years ago. By now, I could be wearing his ring. Probably two of them when you count a wedding band. That baby of his would belong to me instead of some raven-haired beauty.

---