Page 18 of It's Only Love

Chapter 7

Christy spent the rest of the week finalizing the funeral plans, walking around the woods trying to come up with new mysteries to write, and spending time at the bar with Taylor. Generally avoiding being in the house on her own and trying not to think about the side of Dean that she witnessed during her meltdown at the bar. The side she hadn’t known existed, and why would she? She only knew adolescent Dean who hurt and humiliated her with his cruel, flippant words.

The way he stroked his thumb over her knee still had her shivering, what would he think if he knew her thoughts? That a moment of friendliness on his part had turned into one of the most erotic moments of her life. She groaned and dropped her head on the bar. He would probably pity her, thinking how sad she was that a little knee foreplay had affected her so much, inflating his already massive ego at the same time. She forced herself to turn her thoughts to Beau and their upcoming date on Saturday night. Their double date. With Dean. Her heart rate sped up and she groaned again.

“Oh my God, stop!” she exclaimed to herself.

“Stop what?” Taylor asked, appearing at her side.

“Oh, nothing, ha. You ready?” she asked. She was spending the night at Taylor’s and was waiting for her to finish locking up the bar. The funeral was tomorrow, the pit in her stomach tightened at the thought of what she would be facing. So far, she tried to ignore the approaching day, even while she was organizing it. The planning helped to distract her from looking at her feelings too closely but now she couldn’t avoid it. She hadn’t wanted to wake up in that house on her own tomorrow morning and spend the hours beforehand getting ready in silent contemplation.

Christy’s mind flashed back to the last time she considered that house a home. She was fifteen, her mother had just passed away and she assumed that grieving together would bring her and her father closer. But her father had been consumed with the grief of losing his wife and his grief changed him.

He became cold and inattentive, wanting little to do with his only daughter who had begun to look too much like her mother, avoiding her where possible. His rejection in the midst of her grief shattered her. She tried harder to reach him, wanting to spend time with him, her only parent and he rebuffed all her attempts. He began to drink, some nights getting so drunk he just sobbed uncontrollably. Other nights he would rage at her if she tried to help him. She would shut herself in her room and listen out for his movements, terrified. Trying to determine where he was in the house and make herself small enough to escape his notice. Would he come upstairs and start screaming at her again? When would he turn back into the dad he was before her mom died? Would he ever love her again?

She began to hate the way she looked, so similar to her mother, which she should’ve cherished but instead despised. She had it thrown in her face constantly as a reason her father couldn’t stand to be around her. She reminded him too much of his lost love, he would never recover while Christy was there, taunting him every day with what he lost. One night, just as she turned eighteen, he came to her, drunk again, apologizing and begging her forgiveness. She rejoiced, this would be it, the pain was finally leaving him, and they could rebuild their relationship, it wasn’t too late.

Moments later he began to rant and rave again, working himself up so much he had screamed that it should’ve been her who died. Once the words had left his mouth a look of shock had crossed his face, he flung himself away from her, running down the stairs and out of the house. Her heart shattered and a black chasm filled its place. He would never love her and she couldn’t live like this anymore.

She took a suitcase and started packing her things, throwing clothes into it, not caring what she grabbed. She left the house and went to Taylor’s. When Taylor opened the door and saw Christy standing there with a suitcase, she reached out to grab it and bring it into the house.

“I’m leaving.” Christy had said quietly, her throat clogged with tears. Taylor shook her head.

“No, you can stay here; you don’t need to leave!” she cried, but Christy was adamant.

“I can’t be here anymore, I think it’s killing me.” Christy’s voice cracked, she turned away.

“Please don’t go, don’t leave me too,” Taylor begged, but Christy no longer had any energy, she was drained.

“Come with me then.”

“You know I can’t leave Dad.” Christy knew that Taylor's dad had become ill and needed care.

“I can’t stay, Taylor, I won’t make it. I’m sorry, I don’t want to leave you but I have to go. I’ll let you know when I’m safe.” She threw herself at Taylor in a fierce hug. She understood her friend would be devastated and would have come with her if she could. But Christy couldn’t stay in this town anymore, it was too full of bad memories that haunted her.

“I love you, Tay,” she said, and Taylor started crying. They hugged for a long time before Christy pulled away, she grabbed her suitcase and left without looking back.

That night she got a bus to the next town over and stayed in a motel before deciding her next move. She contacted Taylor to let her know she was alright and also Justine, who had been extremely hurt when she heard Christy left without saying goodbye to her. She stayed at the motel a few days before she bought another bus ticket to New York. She thought about reaching out to her father to see if he was okay, but every time she lifted the phone to call him, his last words played through her mind and she slammed the receiver back down.

So she went to New York and worked in diners, department stores, and as a tour guide, trying to scrape together money for English and creative writing classes to help her develop her writing skills. When she graduated from her classes, she managed to get a job writing articles for various magazines and blogs. She tried to become a published author, but it was a tough world. She had issues with rejection which stemmed from her relationship with her father, and that fateful afternoon in the hallway with Dean. After a few attempts and no success, she decided to publish her novels on her own.

She stayed close with Taylor and Justine who visited whenever they could. At first, she and Justine struggled to get back to normal with Justine still upset about the way Christy had left, it had taken them a long time to move on. She often paid for them to visit, feeling guilty they always made the trip to see her as she would never return to her hometown. The pain too real, and the fear of seeing her father kept her away. She never heard from him and never wanted to, over the years the hurt and sadness had morphed into anger and bitterness. She forbade Taylor and Justine from giving her any information about what he was doing, so she had no idea what his life was like.

Her success as a self-published author was enough to get by and pay the bills, she was lucky she could make enough money doing what she loved. She was finally happy and she felt the only thing missing was a romantic relationship. When she met Alfie, she fell in love with him, at least she thought she had. She trusted him completely, the first man she had trusted to love her since her father. And he had broken her trust and left her unable to pay her rent, bills or even afford food.

Christy had done some research since, wondering what had made Alfie choose her as his next scam. Apparently, easy targets were people who were alone, cut off from close family. Downtrodden was a word that came up, weak was another. Insecure, timid, lacking confidence, and self-esteem—check, check, and checkmate.

That was what drove her to make a change to stop putting herself down, she needed to build herself up. Look what mentally browbeating herself had gotten her, nothing, literally! She might never want to have another relationship again, but she could be strong and love herself enough for two. And just when things couldn’t get worse, she received a call from a hospital near Citrus Pines informing her that her father had passed away from a heart attack.

“All done, lets go!” Taylor called, jolting Christy out of her memories and back to the present. She slid off her barstool, they locked up and walked around the back of the bar to Taylor’s cabin. Taylor moaned about their double date all the way there. When they got in, Christy changed into her pajamas while Taylor made some popcorn. When Christy came back into the room, Taylor was starting to make some drinks.

“Let me make you a drink for a change,” Christy said, pushing Taylor out of the kitchen. Taylor spluttered but went off to put her pajamas on and Justine was already wearing hers when she arrived a few minutes later. Christy made them all cocktails, and they sat in the living room with their snacks and drinks and watched horror movies. The perfect distraction. They spent the evening trying to scare each other, laughing hysterically, and eventually they all fell asleep in a heap on the floor.

When Christy woke the next morning, the reality of the day immediately hit her. She couldn’t explain how she felt, just very mixed—sad, angry, heartbroken, regretful. She tried to push the thoughts away and focus on a routine. As she made coffee, her movements woke Justine and Taylor, both were bleary-eyed as they came into the kitchen.

“Morning ladies,” she said, pasting a smile on her face and handing them a mug each.

“How’re you feeling?” Justine asked, her voice extra raspy from lack of use. Her soulful eyes bored into Christy.

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