Once And Forever: Virtually Impossible Part 29

"Not enough." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Clare get out of her car and stretch her legs. "I know I have a lot to be thankful for, Emilia, and most of it is because of you. You have done more than I could ever repay."

"Nothing more than you deserve," she said as we both stepped off the path. "So why do I think there's a 'but' coming?"

"Because there's a big but coming, and don't you dare laugh at the pun." She didn't. "I hate that you feel like you have to take care of me all the time. I screwed up. Me. And you trying to fix everything, while appreciated, makes me feel less like your friend and more like a charity case." Embarra.s.sment heated my skin, made the blood pound in my ears. Emilia shouldn't have to constantly take care of me as if I were a child. The fact that she felt like she did, made my humiliation unmanageable. "When my best friend doesn't have enough confidence in me to let me figure things out on my own, it says more bad things about me than good things about her."

She scratched her head. "I'm not sure what we're talking about, Andi. Everything went well with Clare, but you're mad at me?"

"Not about Clare. About the lawyer. Why did you hire him?"

"Now I'm more confused. I didn't hire you a lawyer. You said you already had one."

Who else could it have been? I only knew a few people who could pay four-hundred dollars an hour for an attorney, and two of them had just denied having done it. After glancing over to Clare, I closed my eyes. "Hayden." He already knew. He knew, and he'd tried to fix it with his money. He'd tried to fix me with his money. "How did he find out who I was?"

Her brows came together for a moment, and then her mouth opened a bit. "Oh." Her cheeks, already reddened by exercise got even redder. "Oh, yeah. Now it makes sense."

"Not to me it doesn't."

"I overheard Sara talking on the phone at the office. It sounded like a personal call and, since you know Sara, you know how hard I try to not hear her personal calls. So I only heard a little, and it didn't make any sense unless Hayden was on the other end of the line. She says her name at the beginning of every call, so maybe he thought she was you for a second?"

"What did she say?"

"I don't remember." Emilia shrugged. "It made no sense, so I shut my door and went back to work. I don't know what she told him."

"It doesn't matter." I couldn't be mad at Sara-she probably thought she was helping. She couldn't possibly have known what she was damaging.

Hayden knew. I'd told him Sara wasn't my real name, and he'd figured it out. Somehow. Maybe by my address, or my cell number, or any other way I'd let him into my life. He'd taken that and found out everything else because he never gave up. Throw enough money at something...

But he hadn't called me-he'd hired me a lawyer. Tried to solve my problems while keeping his distance, being professional. Somehow, that made everything worse-no one in my life thought I could solve my own problems.

No, what made it worse was that they were right. I'd been hiding behind a gla.s.s screen for so long, pretending that was reality, that I was safe and in control. But the only reason I was safe was because the people in my life kept sweeping up my problems for me. All so that I didn't have to deal with them. So I could stay hidden and not face them.

"I love you, Emilia," I said. "And I think you're amazing. But I can't keep hiding behind you. I need you to be my friend, not my keeper or my shield." If I was ever going to live, I had to stop hiding behind other people. I had to stop depending on them and start depending on myself.

"Do you know what's going on?" Emilia asked Clare as she walked toward us.

"I'm taking her to see Hayden."

I shook my head. "That's not going to happen. He already knows what I lied to him about." I'd lied to him about my name, but never about who I really was. Not that it mattered to anyone but me. "He's better off not hearing from me again."

I wished...I wished I could start over, not be ashamed to tell him who I was, not hide online because I could be whoever I wanted to be, not who I really was.

It was so easy to pretend your past didn't exist when you weren't standing in front of someone, when all they knew was who you were at that exact moment in time.

From behind a screen, I'd been able to spend the last four years of my life actually being me. I could ignore the person I used to be, the stupid, insecure one who wanted to be loved so badly that I'd gone against everything I knew was right.

Clare and Emilia argued and came up with all sorts of scenarios, none of them plausible. I'd told Hayden to go away, but he hadn't. He'd found out who I really was. What would meeting him accomplish? I didn't have to stand in front of him to apologize. Plus, I was pretty sure he wouldn't want me to, now that he knew. He hadn't called, and I didn't blame him. Would he really want someone with my past, who'd broken the law again just to be able to work? Reasons were irrelevant, intention useless. I'd deceived him, put Emilia's a.s.s on the line, and really f.u.c.ked things up all in the name of doing the right thing. Which was just hilarious, really. Hilarious in an I-want-to-cry-but-not-from-laughter kind of way.

The feeling that overwhelmed me wasn't disappointment or anger, though. It was shame. Shame for what I'd done four years ago, shame for all the lies I'd told since, shame for allowing Emilia to risk everything she'd built, shame for leading Hayden into thinking that someone he shouldn't want was someone he did want.

"Emilia, how long will it take you to divvy up my clients among the other a.s.sistants?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I think I've finally learned my lesson." I heard them call my name as I walked away. But I didn't turn, and thankfully, they didn't try to catch up. Because then I'd have to run away, and I didn't want to do that anymore.

38.

Hayden When Sira's name popped up on my cell phone, reminding me to change the name in her contact info, I was in the middle of lunch with the president of a small manufacturing business that might be able to help me salvage the Inspex deal. I waited as long as two vibrations before excusing myself, knowing I was probably s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g everything up just so she'd have another chance to tell me to go to h.e.l.l. But since it seemed unlikely that she would call to tell me to leave her alone, I would answer the phone.

By the time I was far enough away from the table, I'd missed it. So I called her back, hoping I hadn't blown my last shot. She picked up on the first ring. That was a good sign, wasn't it?

"I met Clare today."

I inhaled. "Did you? Why's that?"

"She wanted to let me know that she supported whatever happened between us."

"Hopefully, she was more specific than that because I'd hate to think she would support you telling me to f.u.c.k off."

"Yeah, she was more specific."

I waited. There was so much uncertainty in her voice, so much tension, that I couldn't tell which way this was going to go. I braced myself for either.

"I'm..." she started. "I can take care of myself."

"I know you can." I wanted to say more, but held back, knowing that if I didn't let her lead, she'd just disappear again.

"Then why did you decide to stick your nose into something you know nothing about?"

"I'm afraid you're going to have to be a bit more specific now because you seem to know exactly what you're referring to while I'm not as sure." She could've been talking about her, love, or life in general.

"I don't need your lawyer, Hayden."

Oh, that. After Detective Williams had left, I'd called the virtual a.s.sistant agency and spoken with the real Sara, just to have a few separate points of reference, to know I wasn't going crazy and imagining all of this. Unfortunately, as soon as I'd mentioned the name 'Andi,' it became pretty clear that I was finally hearing the truth. So I'd called an attorney friend, hoping he knew how I could learn more about the woman I wanted and how I could help her. Even if she didn't want to be in my life, I wanted her to have a good one.

"I was trying to help," I said. "I'm sorry if it didn't."

"I didn't do it-what they're accusing me of. I wasn't involved at all."

"I know."

She laughed. "That's it? 'I know?' How could you possibly know?"

"Because I've spent I don't know how many weeks giving you every reason I could think of for us to be together. And I've spent the same amount of time listening to you tell me that, despite what you want, what I was trying so hard to give you, you won't take it. Because it would be wrong. So knowing what I know about you-as little as that may be-I know you'd never be involved in someone's death."

"Why would you believe anything I've ever said? I lied to you about everything-who I am, my past, my mistakes. Even my f.u.c.king name."

"I didn't fall in love with your name. I don't lay in bed all night thinking about your past or the mistakes you've made. I think about you. Your laugh, your body under mine, your cruel comebacks and how they make me feel more alive than I ever have. Those things aren't fake. They are you." I swallowed. "I love your mind, and your spirit, and the way you make me feel. I don't just believe them. I know."

"I've made so many mistakes, Hayden." Her breath hiccupped. "So many."

"Yes, you have. You've also paid for them. They've made you who you are, and I love who you are."

"You don't love me. You can't. You're just mixing your feelings up. So now that you know I'm full of s.h.i.t, you should go. You should run away as fast as you can."

"I want to be there for you."

"I don't need you," she whimpered. "I'm not going to thank you for the lawyer. I'll pay you back, but I won't thank you. I don't need you to rescue me."

Ah-ha. "That wasn't my intention. It's obvious you can take care of yourself." As soon as I said the words, I wished I could take them back. Because they sounded flippant, bitter, sarcastic. I was none of those things. I was only confused and afraid of hurting her.

"I never asked you to take care of me," she yelled. "I know I screwed up. I think about it every single day. I can't stop thinking about it. But I never asked you for help so you can keep your sarcastic comments to yourself."

"I wasn't being sarcastic. You're misunderstanding me, Sar-" My head flopped back on the wall. I should really start listening-not to what she said, because I already did that, every syllable she spoke. But to what she hadn't said. For months, I didn't even know her real name.

I didn't care about the lie itself. But, sadly, it was a sign. A sign that she didn't trust me enough to come clean, that she didn't see a future for us. If she had, she would've told me. "I want the best for you, and unfortunately, I don't know what that is. I don't want to fix you-I think you're perfect just the way you are. But I would like to help if I can. In any way I can."

"I don't need your help."

"Okay," I said on an exhale. "Then what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to erase my number and my email address from everywhere they are. I want you to forget my phone number. And if you see me in public, I want you to walk in the other direction. That's what I want you to do."

"Don't ask me to do that."

"I'm not asking. Goodbye, Hayden."

"Andi, come on!" I yelled into the phone, her real name so foreign on my tongue. But it was too late. She'd already hung up.

After staring at my phone for a while, I started walking. I wasn't sure how long, and I wasn't sure where I was going. When the sun started to go down, I raised my gaze from the sidewalk and looked around. No idea where I was. I had my phone and my wallet but had left my briefcase in the restaurant.

All that walking and still no closer to a way out of the hole I'd dug my way into. Like a grave. I'd fallen a lot in my life, business dealings that failed, personal relationships that fell apart. But I'd always prided myself on being able to pick myself up.

I finally understood why it had been so easy. Because I'd never been that far off the ground. I'd never felt free. Not being fully alive had kept my feet firmly planted. She'd changed that-Andi. Andi had made my chest fill with laughter, my soul fill with hope. So that when I fell, it was from a much higher place. And it hurt a h.e.l.l of a lot more when I landed.

39.

Andi Every part of me ached, and I was only about halfway through packing up my stuff. Ironically, I used to think of myself as a minimalist. Although, most of it wasn't mine. Grandma had left lots of souvenirs from a life well-lived, a full and happy one. Those memories needed to be carefully wrapped and labeled for storage until I could afford a place larger than a postage stamp. Selling the house wouldn't give me all the money I still owed, but after I paid off the mortgage, the rest would help a lot of people regain what they'd lost.

It hurt to sell something that meant so much to my grandmother, but what else could I do? I needed to start over, and hopefully, there was enough fun stuff to do in heaven that Grandma would never notice.

I'd stopped checking my phone, letting all the calls from Emilia, Sara, and Clare go to voicemail. Once a day, I texted a quick, 'I'm alive, but can't talk now. Need more time,' message back to them so no one would decide to come over to see if I was still breathing.

I wasn't sure I still was.

Not surprisingly, Hayden hadn't called. It was fitting that the one time he listened was the time I'd told him to erase me from his life. I told myself the pain in my chest was guilt, not disappointment. Not sadness that I'd let someone down again. Not anxiety over imagining him cursing my name-my real name-and thinking what a fool he was for believing me, trusting me, wanting me. Because if I thought too long on any of those things, I'd start crying. And crying only made the packing go slower and the nights seem longer.

The only thing I had to celebrate was that I wouldn't have to pay Hayden back too much for the attorney. By the time I'd called the guy to tell him I wouldn't be needing his services, I was no longer a suspect, and the police had a lead on someone else. I didn't ask for details-it was hard to care about anything anymore.

Unfortunately, fifty years of clutter covered up a lot of dust, and moving Grandma's things stirred it all up. When I could no longer stand the taste in my mouth, I walked down to the donut shop. The place seemed different this time, not as safe anymore. Maybe because I knew this neighborhood wouldn't be my home much longer.

As I pa.s.sed a liquor store with my half-dozen beauties, I decided I was thirsty. h.e.l.l, why not? I grabbed a six-pack of the cheapest beer they had. Maybe I'd just have one, or maybe I'd have all six beers and all six donuts and then spend the rest of the night crying. Ain't life grand?

When I got back to the house, I saw him. Hayden was sitting in the swing on my front porch as if it was just another night and this was just another visit. As if he'd been here countless times before and had done exactly the same thing. But he'd only been here a couple times...that felt like they'd been seared into my memory with a branding iron. Painful reminders of who I'd almost belonged to but never would.

What is it like to have memories that don't hurt?

Hayden wore jeans and a sweater, by far the most casual thing I'd ever seen him wear, but nothing could make him look bad. He looked gorgeous, confident, powerful, completely out of my league, so much more than I'd ever deserve.

Under the weight of his stare, I dragged my feet up the sidewalk, words darting around in my mind but not sticking long enough for me to figure out something to say. I slipped my key into the lock and opened the door. I didn't need to explain myself to him-he knew what he needed to know, anything else would only make him hate me more. And that wouldn't do either of us any good.

"Can I have one?" His voice made me flinch, cringe, shiver, feel lots of unpleasant stuff.

"Um...sure," I said. I wanted to just run inside and lock the door behind me, but instead, I tossed my wallet, keys, and donuts inside, pulled a beer from the plastic ring, and handed it to him. Then I grabbed one for myself, set the rest down at my feet, and leaned up against the wood railing.

When he examined the label, I instantly knew he'd probably never had beer in a can before. He cracked it open and took a cautious sip, then another.

"Is Andi short for anything?" he asked calmly.

"Andrea." I took a long swig-partly so I didn't have to look at him and partly hoping the alcohol would hit me really fast.

"You got in trouble with the police, what, four years ago?"

I gagged, the beer in my nose instead of where I needed it to go. After my coughing fit was done, I looked at him and nodded. He deserved to know. "My boyfriend at the time asked me to do something for him. I was stupid and was sure he loved me and would ever ask me to do anything that was wrong, so I did it. Turned out only one part of that was true: I was stupid."

"But you're paying back what he and his friends took?"

How did he know that? "Clare was right. Throw enough money at something and you can find out whatever you want."

He shrugged. "You'd be surprised how easy it is. And how inexpensive." He took another sip of beer. "I spoke to a few of them."

"A few of whom?"

"The university employees who are receiving funds from an unknown source. They're very thankful. Why didn't you ever tell them what you were doing for them?"

I'd never contacted any of them. Never had the guts to. "How do you tell someone that you're the person responsible for their life savings being stolen? They all saw me at the trial, and they have every right to hate me. So what's the point of taking credit for the small amount of money I've given back to them?"