Status: Currently a one shot, but I'd like to develop it...
Wrong
one.
I wiped down one of the tables in the front with my back to the door. I heard the bell ring, but the familiar voice told me not to bother to turn around.
“Where’s the friendly service, sis?” my second oldest brother, Damian, teased.
“What do you want, D?” I sighed.
“Can’t a loving brother come visit his sister at work?” he plopped down on a wrought iron chair.
“Not when the sister’s job is to run their mother’s bakery,” I deposited the cleaning supplies behind the counter and washed my hands. “And you always have a hidden agenda.”
“You wound me, Ry,” he acted with a hand over his hand. “You really do.”
“You’d think all those girls fawning over you would pad your ego enough,” I laughed as I rearranged the display case.
“They’re a little busy doing something else,” Damian wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
I scoffed. “You sicko. What about Courtney?”
He sighed and shifted uncomfortably and that’s when I knew something was off. Damian was never less than the confident and chill guy that every girl wanted to be with and every guy wanted to be.
“You know something?” Damian looked at me. “People think that if you love somebody hard enough, then it’ll all work out.”
I let all the air out of my lungs in solidarity. It actually scared me how easily he could become prophetical. “People are wrong.”
Damian was a professional hockey player with the Carolina Hurricanes. He’d been called up a season ago and had made good use of his time so far in the big leagues when it came to the ladies. That was, until Courtney Williams came along. Before that, I couldn’t remember the number of girls he’d spent more than two months with because there hadn’t been any.
He waved his hand through the air and I knew that happy-go-lucky Damian was back. “But anyway,” he pointed to his favorite cookie in the case and extended his hand expectantly. “Dad’s having dinner tomorrow, yeah?”
“You shouldn’t be eating this,” I warned, gave him the lemon shortbread anyway. “And you know he is. It’s Sunday dinner.”
In the summer, when we were all usually reunited in South Harbor, Massachusetts, dinner on Sundays was mandatory. Our mother had instilled as a tradition when our oldest brother, Blake, had gone away to college in California. After her sudden passing, it remained a rule in the Sutton household.
“You’ll let him know I’m bringing a guest?” Damian asked nonchalantly as he pointed to a chocolate chunk cookie. “To go, please.” He dumped a few dollars on the counter.
“Do my ears deceive me?” I play-gasped. “Is my brother, Damian Sutton, bringing a guest to Sunday dinner?” I shoved both his money and the bag into his hands.
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t go getting your hopes up. It’s not a girl.”
“You know how happy that would make her,” I reasoned quietly.
Damian looked down. “Yeah, I know.”
His phone went off and he slid it out of his pocket, reading a text. “Gotta jet. See you tomorrow?”
“Bye, D,” we hugged briefly. “Love you.”
He turned around. “Love you too, Ryanne.”
Through the glass front window, I watched him cross paths with another man. They smiled at each other and did that shoulder bump-handshake all guys seem to do. His friend looked scarily familiar.
Damian was a tall guy and this man matched his height. While Damian looked chill in his V-neck, cargo shorts, and Vans, his companion looked a bit more polished. Damian extended the bag to his friend and that’s when I knew.
Christopher Hodgkin.
Chris hadn’t changed a bit in the last four years. If anything, it looked as though he had just climbed into his car the last time I’d seen him. It made my heart ache.
As they turned to leave, Chris grabbed Damian’s shoulder and said something I couldn’t decipher. The look on his face was serious enough that I knew he could get any witness on the stand to admit what he wanted on any day in court.
My brother pointed inside the shop-to me.
Damn you, Damian, damn you.
He turned fully and lifted his sunglasses off his eyes and I found myself looking anywhere but the blue eyes that were now on me. Chris raised a hand in greeting and shook it a little to each side. I let the corners of my mouth tweak upwards, but only for a few seconds.
Damian had been watching me carefully and he quickly tugged on Chris’s shoulder. He jerked his head down the street and I knew they were probably heading to Bubba’s on the Beach.
It wasn’t until I knew they would be long out of sight that I let myself move from my frozen position behind the counter. I swung the front door open and stood on the slightly sandy sidewalk, not moving my eyes from the direction I knew they’d gone. My mind repeated the same thing over and over again.
Chris was back.
Chris was back.
Chris was back.
Holy shit, Chris was back.
“So that’s it then?” I gaped at him. “You’re giving up? On us?”
Chris’s eyes met mine and he let out a slow breath before running his hands up and down my bare arms. “Ry, baby, there’s nothing left to give up on.”
“How can you say that?” I shoved myself away from him. “Any of that?” I willed myself not to cry. “First you call me ‘baby’ and then you tell me that there’s nothing left of us?”
“Don’t do this,” he pleaded. “Be rational, Ryanne.”
“Stop it!” I exclaimed. “Stop trying to be a lawyer on me. You should be fighting!”
“You don’t think I’m fighting?” Chris’s eyes were hidden behind those goddamn sunglasses. “You don’t think that I’ve been having this battle inside? It’s been tearing me apart!”
“Then don’t let it happen,” I reasoned. “I can transfer. Or you can. We can make this work.” Chris had just graduated from Duke’s prelaw program and was headed to Harvard for law school. I was in New York City in a culinary program and was one year behind him.
“We’ve tried,” Chris stepped close again. “You and I both know that we have.” His thumbs wiped away the tears I hadn’t even realized had fallen. Before I could do anything, he pressed a kiss to my forehead and buried his nose in my long hair. Taking a deep, long breath, he eventually backed away. “I still love you, Ryanne.”
“Obviously not enough to fight for me!” I spat out angrily, bitterly. “Not enough to fight for what we had!” I threw the jacket had been sitting on the bench behind us at him. “You’re a sorry excuse for a man.”
Chris gulped a deep breath as he tried to figure out what to say next. But soon, the only sounds that could be heard was the slamming of the screen door and the revving of his engine as it took off down the street.
“What did he say?” my mother asked as I stormed past. “Sweetie.”
I didn’t turn around, but the sobs shook my body so hard that I nearly fell over. My tiny and thin mother wrapped me in her arms and held me upright.
“Love isn’t worth it,” I choked.
“Of course it is,” she reasoned. “It just doesn’t always seem that way.”
Very few things existed that I believe my mother would ever have been wrong about. But love was one of them.
“Where’s the friendly service, sis?” my second oldest brother, Damian, teased.
“What do you want, D?” I sighed.
“Can’t a loving brother come visit his sister at work?” he plopped down on a wrought iron chair.
“Not when the sister’s job is to run their mother’s bakery,” I deposited the cleaning supplies behind the counter and washed my hands. “And you always have a hidden agenda.”
“You wound me, Ry,” he acted with a hand over his hand. “You really do.”
“You’d think all those girls fawning over you would pad your ego enough,” I laughed as I rearranged the display case.
“They’re a little busy doing something else,” Damian wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
I scoffed. “You sicko. What about Courtney?”
He sighed and shifted uncomfortably and that’s when I knew something was off. Damian was never less than the confident and chill guy that every girl wanted to be with and every guy wanted to be.
“You know something?” Damian looked at me. “People think that if you love somebody hard enough, then it’ll all work out.”
I let all the air out of my lungs in solidarity. It actually scared me how easily he could become prophetical. “People are wrong.”
Damian was a professional hockey player with the Carolina Hurricanes. He’d been called up a season ago and had made good use of his time so far in the big leagues when it came to the ladies. That was, until Courtney Williams came along. Before that, I couldn’t remember the number of girls he’d spent more than two months with because there hadn’t been any.
He waved his hand through the air and I knew that happy-go-lucky Damian was back. “But anyway,” he pointed to his favorite cookie in the case and extended his hand expectantly. “Dad’s having dinner tomorrow, yeah?”
“You shouldn’t be eating this,” I warned, gave him the lemon shortbread anyway. “And you know he is. It’s Sunday dinner.”
In the summer, when we were all usually reunited in South Harbor, Massachusetts, dinner on Sundays was mandatory. Our mother had instilled as a tradition when our oldest brother, Blake, had gone away to college in California. After her sudden passing, it remained a rule in the Sutton household.
“You’ll let him know I’m bringing a guest?” Damian asked nonchalantly as he pointed to a chocolate chunk cookie. “To go, please.” He dumped a few dollars on the counter.
“Do my ears deceive me?” I play-gasped. “Is my brother, Damian Sutton, bringing a guest to Sunday dinner?” I shoved both his money and the bag into his hands.
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t go getting your hopes up. It’s not a girl.”
“You know how happy that would make her,” I reasoned quietly.
Damian looked down. “Yeah, I know.”
His phone went off and he slid it out of his pocket, reading a text. “Gotta jet. See you tomorrow?”
“Bye, D,” we hugged briefly. “Love you.”
He turned around. “Love you too, Ryanne.”
Through the glass front window, I watched him cross paths with another man. They smiled at each other and did that shoulder bump-handshake all guys seem to do. His friend looked scarily familiar.
Damian was a tall guy and this man matched his height. While Damian looked chill in his V-neck, cargo shorts, and Vans, his companion looked a bit more polished. Damian extended the bag to his friend and that’s when I knew.
Christopher Hodgkin.
Chris hadn’t changed a bit in the last four years. If anything, it looked as though he had just climbed into his car the last time I’d seen him. It made my heart ache.
As they turned to leave, Chris grabbed Damian’s shoulder and said something I couldn’t decipher. The look on his face was serious enough that I knew he could get any witness on the stand to admit what he wanted on any day in court.
My brother pointed inside the shop-to me.
Damn you, Damian, damn you.
He turned fully and lifted his sunglasses off his eyes and I found myself looking anywhere but the blue eyes that were now on me. Chris raised a hand in greeting and shook it a little to each side. I let the corners of my mouth tweak upwards, but only for a few seconds.
Damian had been watching me carefully and he quickly tugged on Chris’s shoulder. He jerked his head down the street and I knew they were probably heading to Bubba’s on the Beach.
It wasn’t until I knew they would be long out of sight that I let myself move from my frozen position behind the counter. I swung the front door open and stood on the slightly sandy sidewalk, not moving my eyes from the direction I knew they’d gone. My mind repeated the same thing over and over again.
Chris was back.
Chris was back.
Chris was back.
Holy shit, Chris was back.
*~*~*~*~*~*
“So that’s it then?” I gaped at him. “You’re giving up? On us?”
Chris’s eyes met mine and he let out a slow breath before running his hands up and down my bare arms. “Ry, baby, there’s nothing left to give up on.”
“How can you say that?” I shoved myself away from him. “Any of that?” I willed myself not to cry. “First you call me ‘baby’ and then you tell me that there’s nothing left of us?”
“Don’t do this,” he pleaded. “Be rational, Ryanne.”
“Stop it!” I exclaimed. “Stop trying to be a lawyer on me. You should be fighting!”
“You don’t think I’m fighting?” Chris’s eyes were hidden behind those goddamn sunglasses. “You don’t think that I’ve been having this battle inside? It’s been tearing me apart!”
“Then don’t let it happen,” I reasoned. “I can transfer. Or you can. We can make this work.” Chris had just graduated from Duke’s prelaw program and was headed to Harvard for law school. I was in New York City in a culinary program and was one year behind him.
“We’ve tried,” Chris stepped close again. “You and I both know that we have.” His thumbs wiped away the tears I hadn’t even realized had fallen. Before I could do anything, he pressed a kiss to my forehead and buried his nose in my long hair. Taking a deep, long breath, he eventually backed away. “I still love you, Ryanne.”
“Obviously not enough to fight for me!” I spat out angrily, bitterly. “Not enough to fight for what we had!” I threw the jacket had been sitting on the bench behind us at him. “You’re a sorry excuse for a man.”
Chris gulped a deep breath as he tried to figure out what to say next. But soon, the only sounds that could be heard was the slamming of the screen door and the revving of his engine as it took off down the street.
“What did he say?” my mother asked as I stormed past. “Sweetie.”
I didn’t turn around, but the sobs shook my body so hard that I nearly fell over. My tiny and thin mother wrapped me in her arms and held me upright.
“Love isn’t worth it,” I choked.
“Of course it is,” she reasoned. “It just doesn’t always seem that way.”
*~*~*~*~*~*
Very few things existed that I believe my mother would ever have been wrong about. But love was one of them.
♠ ♠ ♠
So I left this pretty open ended because I really want to expand on this. I had a dream that gave me the idea for this one shot and it kind of opened a few doors in my mind for the plot. If I do continue it, I think I might alternate POVs so that I can share both sides of their past and present.In this chapter, the bolded text is the flashback, if that wasn't clear.
Let me know what you think!