Killing Me Softly(A Broken Souls Series)

A quick poke to the ribs brought me out of my thoughts and back to reality. Ugh! I really did not want to talk about this. I did not want to cry again. I did not want to think about what’s really going to happen in less than a month. This sucks! I did not want to have to tell my best friend that I was leaving him.

Another nudge and I realized that he was not going to let me stall any longer. I stood up and started to pace the length of the dugout. As I pulled the blanket tighter around myself, I realized that I couldn’t feel my toes—my socks were wet and frozen to my feet. I must have gotten snow on my socks when I was wearing my slippers. My day just kept getting better and better. I quickly turned toward Brad before I realized that he was right behind me, and I ran square into the middle of his rock hard chest. He grabbed my shoulders to steady me and pulled me in for a hug. He smelled so good that I couldn’t help but take a deep breath.

Deep breath in, exhale, repeat. This was my new mantra. I repeated it over and over in my head before I opened my eyes again and realize that Brad was still holding me, stroking his hand over my back and kissing my hair. I was crying, and I didn’t even realize I had started to shake again. Deep breath in, exhale, repeat.

“Tell me, Becca,” he said, breaking the silence that I was beginning to appreciate. “Tell me, or I will have to call your mom, and you know she will tell me.”

Crap! He was right. She would tell him my bra size if he asked. She trusts him with me completely. She knows that he will always take care of me, that he loves me in a way that is completely hard to come by and only happens once in a lifetime. It’s that special kind of love where nothing-will-ever-come-between-us-no-matter-what. It’s the eternal kind of love. He’s my best friend and always will be. This news would not break us—that’s why she sent him to find me. Damn her!

“Fine. You are not going to like this, though, and it will probably ruin your birthday. So when I start to cry and fall apart again, you cannot blame me when we show up to your party, with me looking like a freak in hot-pink rain boots.” I was trying to get him to smile, but his face stayed the same. His mouth was firm, not a trace of amusement at all. No use is stalling. Just say it. Quick, like ripping off a Band-Aid. The quicker you do it, the less it hurts. Right?

“Mom found a new job,” I continued. “We have to move to Tucson at the beginning of January.” I was crying again before I finished my statement. I was able to get it out without any emotion in my voice, but the tears running down my face conveyed everything I was feeling for me. I was beyond sad, beyond angry. I was devastated. This small town was everything I needed. It was my home, and I was being torn from it without a second thought from my mom. Realization hit hard then—I only had three weeks before I was leaving.

“It’s going to be just fine, and you know it.” He stated it so simply. He made it sound like it wasn’t life-altering news. He made it sound like he wasn’t the slightest bit affected by this. Then it hit me. He already knew.

I stepped back, and his hands fell to his sides. He went to reach for me to pull me back in, but I took another step back. The look on his face was of genuine concern. We had known each other long enough to know when the other one was lying. He was definitely not lying, but omitting. He took a step toward me and tried to grab for my hand, and I pulled away. The look of anger on my face must have been apparent because he stopped mid step and pulled back.

“When,” I asked him, “when did she tell you?”

The blank stare was a dead giveaway. He tried to pull me in for another hug, but I pushed him away. My blanket fell to the ground, and I left it there. I turned my back on him and walked away. I couldn’t believe he knew before I told him. He made me tell him, made me say the words. He made the situation real when I was forced to say it out loud. Was he on her side? Did he really believe that everything was going to be all right? Did he want me to leave?

I was practically running by the time I reached my car and jumped in. I started it but just sat there. I was in no condition to drive. The tears were flowing freely again and dropping on my sweater from my chin. The heater started to kick in, and I could almost feel my toes again when I noticed that Brad was standing in front of my car just watching me, holding my ugly orange blanket. We made eye contact, and that was all it took. I gave in, just like always. He was no match for my willpower. One look and I would melt like butter over an open flame. Damn him!

I unlocked the doors and motioned for him to get in. Once the door was closed and the only sound was the hot air rushing from the vents, he turned toward me and ran the back of his hand over my cheek, wiping away freshly fallen tears. This is the man that I love. His friendship means everything to me, and I was going to leave him. There would be phone calls, emails, text messages, and visits, but things would never be the same as they were right this very moment.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” I started, but he put his finger over my lips to silence me. I had seen him do this before with Claire, with his other girlfriends, but never with me. We didn’t share those types of moments. The kind of moments that cause all of the air to rush out of your body had always been reserved for his girlfriends, not for me. My body immediately tensed up, and my eyes opened wide. I turned to face him better and knew what was going to happen only mere seconds before it did.

He leaned forward and kissed me. It was gentle and innocent, but my entire body felt alert and on fire. It only last a few second, and when it was over, he rested his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. Wow!

“I agree.”

Crap! I was thinking out loud again. I really had to get that under control before I start saying things I really don’t want people to hear. I opened my eyes, and he was looking at me in a way that had never happened before, and then he kissed me again. This time there was more urgency, more passion, and more emotion behind his every movement. Before I could stop myself, I was just as involved in the kiss as he was, and a small moan left my throat that I had been trying to contain.

He pulled away, and you could see the shock on his face—the “Oh crap, I just kissed a girl that’s not my girlfriend” expression. Then he smirked, and I released the breath that I didn’t know I had been holding and started to laugh. I couldn’t control myself. It’s not that the situation was funny. It wasn’t, but the look on his face was priceless. I knew him better than he knew himself sometimes, and he was feeling like a complete ass at that very moment.

He was not a cheater. He would never intentionally cheat on anything or anyone. I understood this; his girlfriend did not. She did not understand our relationship and because of that, she always assumed that we had something going on behind her back. We never gave her a reason to think those things, but she just assumed, and when they would fight, that was what she would always bring up as a means of defense.

Crap! We’ve given her a reason not to trust us, and all I can do right now is laugh. Brad was looking at me like I was crazy, and I was laughing so hard I was crying. He reached out and grabbed my hand, and the instant he touched me, I stopped, sucked in a very large breath, and held it. He took my hand and put it over his heart and held it there.

“You live here, Becca. You will always live here.”

That was all he said before getting out of my car and driving away. OMG! What was I going to do? In that moment, I wanted nothing more than for him to hold me again. I wanted him to kiss me again. I wanted him as more than just my best friend, something I had contemplated over the years but had always pushed out of my mind. I wanted more. I could feel my heart breaking inside my chest at the thought that we would never get that. There just wasn’t enough time.