Page 11 of Pretty Ruthless

I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and bite at the dead skin there, “the long answer is I’ve thought about you at least once a day, every day, since I left after my grandpa’s funeral.” The thought of being without him sometimes kills me inside. I’ve tried to move on, but there is no one else for me. He’s it, too bad our lives are so far apart that they’ll never actually coexisting at the same time. It’s like we’re both here but vibrating at a different wavelength, just out of reach.

“But you never came back? Why? You didn’t even leave me your phone number. I must have asked your mom for it two dozen times before it hit me that if you wanted me to have it you would have given it to me.” His voice breaks ever so slightly as he questions my reasonings. I cringe at the way that situation sounds coming out of his mouth, it’s exactly what happened but it wasn’t as cut and dry as he’s making it out to be.

“I cried all the way home that day and every night for months after I left. I didn’t want to leave you like that.” I confess. Giving him an opening into my heartbreak.

“Then why did you? College I could see, yeah that hurt like a bitch but you were making a better life for yourself. You chose your dream over ours and I get that but when you came back it felt like a fresh start for us and then I woke up to you gone and your mom telling me that you left back home. I found your note by the way and I have to say, that had to be the most cowardly way of leaving I’ve ever seen.” There’s no venom behind his tone, it’s sadness and resignation. Like he’s already excepted my answer that I haven’t even given yet. Like he knows something about me that I don’t even know about myself.

I nod agreeing, “it was absolutely chicken shit for me to leave without telling you goodbye and it hurt, Daws, it hurt so fucking bad but I knew, I knew with all my heart that you would and probably could convince me to stay in Brighton and I couldn’t take that risk. I’m sorry Dawson, I’m so fucking sorry. My grandpa asked-“ I stop before I get too far into that topic. “You have no idea how many times I almost called.” I regret saying that as it comes out of my mouth, the confession of having his number yet never calling isn’t something I should have said out loud.

“Almost? Wait,” he slows and puts the truck in park, “you have my number?” His eyes are wide and there’s unabashed pain in them.

I cringe again, “yes.” Honesty is the best policy right now, I won’t be doing any favors by lying to him. Fuck, it won’t do me any good, we’ve already slammed face first into the conversation, no turning back now.

“Wow,” he leans his head back against the window and sighs. “I thought you leaving the second time destroyed me but the fact that you’ve had the ability to reach out to me and never have…that’s pretty ruthless Claire, even for you.” His words cut into me like a fucking knife, splitting me open for the vultures.

My eyes burn and there’s a ball in the back of my throat that feels like lava, “I’m sorry,” I whisper, I don’t trust my voice right now.

“I called once, ya know?” He chuckles to himself after a long moment.

“Called who?” I ask, confused.

“You- well your office.” He’s smiling to himself but it’s a sad as fuck smile.

“When?” I ask, I never got a message or a voicemail or a missed call.

“Bout a year ago, my mom got her cancer diagnosis and fuck, I just wanted to hear your voice.” He closes his eyes and every ounce of my being wants to heal this hurt for him.

“What happened?” I ask, not understanding how I didn’t know this.

“Some girl answered the phone and said that you were in a meeting, suggested I email you and then hung up. You must be pretty important for people not to even transfer the phone to your damn voicemail.” I can hear the tone pick up, the small judgment hidden between his words.

“Did you get her name?” I ask, mentally preparing the request to HR for termination in my head.

“Lana, I believe. She didn’t even give me the chance to tell her who I was. It doesn’t matter.” He shrugs it off like he’s not bothered, but I can see it was a big deal to him. It took a lot for him to actually call and then to be snuffed by a dial tone.

“Elena is my assistant,” I seethe, “and I will be having words with her when I get back to my phone.” She may be my best friend, but she didn’t even bother to ask his name, which is a huge fucking no in my book. So even if I don’t fire her, which I couldn’t. She’s too important to my sanity, she will get a fucking earfull.

“Don’t do anything on my account, you never have before, why break a winning streak right?” His tone is bitter and I understand his hostility but damn. I broke my own heart for him and I don’t even have the ability to tell him about it.

Chapter 10

Claire

October 10, 2018

Abigail stands in the corner of the room waiting for me to finish so she can slide the metal slab back into the cold locker. My palms are sweaty and I feel like I’m overheating, even though it’s cold in here. My body shakes from the realization that he’s actually gone. The one person I had left in the world who fully supported everything I gave up to chase my dreams.

“I’m really sorry for your loss,” she says almost robotically, fidgeting with her fingers. I can hear her sweet tone, but to me, it’s like she doesn’t actually care. That’s my grandpa and she’s just standing there like it’s nothing to her. Rage and sadness are not a good combination. I hate that I feel this way, knowing he wouldn’t want me to feel like this.

“Thanks.” I reply, staring down at the one man in my life who was always there for me, no matter what. When I got the call yesterday afternoon I drove as fast as I could to say goodbye but by the time I got here he was already gone. I should have made more time to come back to see him. His face on my screen was never enough. I spoke to him all the time, but I can’t even remember the last time I hugged him.

Words like widowmaker and clogged artery flitted around the room of the hospital like a comic book bubble, I didn’t even know he had a heart issue, he never told me. Why wouldn’t he tell me, we told each other everything. That was the bargain him and I made so many years ago,the truth will set you free.His words rattle through my head,then why weren’t you truthful with me?I ask him silently, not that he can answer me now.

“He was a good man.” Abigail says, her voice pulling me from my internal spiral.

“He was.” I hate the way that sounds, the past tense, the after. The nevermore. He’s gone and I’ll never hear his voice again.

“Listen, I can give you like fifteen more minutes, we’re closing up for the night but if you need more time, I’ve got you.” She offers, even though I know it’s against the rules. I watch as she keeps her distance, almost like she’s nervous about something. Her dark hair pulled up into a tight bun as she rocks back and forth on her toes.

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