"Two souls are sometimes created together and in love before they're even born." -F. Scott Fitzgerald
When eight year old Beau Ruby met twelve year old Colton Caine, she had no idea she was meeting the love of her life. She had no idea she'd grow...
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Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit. I stared at him for a few moments, unsure of what to do. He wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be at work. Why wasn't he at work?
If it's possible for a thousand questions to filter through a mind that is only partially focused on a situation to begin with, then that is exactly what happened. He turned to look at me, and I saw his mouth moving. I knew he was speaking to me, most likely asking why there were bags in the floor. I couldn't hear his voice in that moment. I was too busy concocting a lie in my mind as quickly as possible.
"Why are you home so early?", I quickly blurted out, hoping my voice didn't shake with the nervousness I felt.
"Got laid off. Contract fell through and boss man let thirty of us go." His tone was cool and calm. I could only assume he had not jumped to conclusions about the duffle bags. I realized, then, that I was still standing in the doorway, holding onto the doorknob with a grip that was surely turning my knuckles white. I let go of it and quietly pushed it closed, sighing with a sense of dread. He was laid off. It was always a possibility. I knew this. He knew this. I picked the most terrible day to pack my bags up and leave. He was already going to be in a bad mood simply from what had already happened in his day.
I watched him as he watched me. His brow furrowed and he looked from me to the duffle bags and then back to me. "Why are you home?" he asked.
The lie tumbled from my mouth as quickly as it tumbled into my brain. It was as if a key had fallen from nowhere and unlocked the secret code. It was the puzzle piece that fit just right. "Mel called this morning. She said they didn't need me today. Something about hiring a new girl and being over staffed today." I gave a shrug of my shoulders for effect. Melody had not called. She would never call for that reason. The cafe had not and would not hire anyone new without letting me know. All of us that worked there had formed a tight knit group of sorts. No one would have kept information about a new waitress a secret. It just wouldn't happen. I was sure he probably knew this, but he didn't say so. Instead, he just cocked his head to the side and gave me a puzzled look. "Why didn't you text me and tell me you were at home?" he asked me. I answered him slowly. Methodically. Careful to keep my breathing steady and my hands from shaking. He was catching on. I answered him. "I just didn't think about it."
It was in that moment I knew that he realized something wasn't right. His eyes darted to the duffle bag and back to me. "What are the bags for, Beau?"
I stared at him then, repeatedly opening and closing my mouth as if to speak. This wasn't his fault. It truly wasn't. Was he an asshole with a horrible temper? Of course he was. I believed deep down, though, that there was a flame burning for me in his cold heart.
I stared at him with the same eyes with which I had stared at him for the first time. The wound of leaving Hammond and Colton and everything I knew was still so raw. It was as if someone had plunged a knife in my heart and twisted it. The edges of that wound were still jagged and rough. I felt pain on a level that was unrivaled by anything else I had ever felt or probably would ever feel again. My world was two hundred miles and the only sliver of hope I had to feel some sort of connection with someone else had been shattered into a million tiny pieces at a doctor's office two days before.
