On The Run: Part Two

Chapter Twenty-Eight - "Delayed Gratification"

Well, I've been dreaming ever since I've seen your heaven when you came my way.

If only.

*

I poured the sugar into my coffee slowly, watching the granules slide down after each other and settle onto the milky top.

My mind was drifting, and I could feel my smile growing.

The judge disappeared into her chambers, and in a millisecond, Fitch was by my seat. He crouched down and stared up at me, his eyes shining.

“Hi,” I said, unable to stop grinning.

“Hey,” he breathed barely audible.

I saw the bailiff begin to walk over, but Sarah stopped him. “One second. Please,” she told him.

I stood up, as Fitch straightened up.

“You look beautiful. You look so beautiful, Chloe,” he was staring at me, as his expression read disbelief.

Well, of course I’d paid greater attention to my appearance today. I certainly wasn’t going to pop in wearing my uniform, so I’d rummaged through the contents of my closet and found a floral-print flared summer dress; I’d worn another pair of wedges – surprisingly, I was starting to enjoy wearing them.

His expression became pained and I asked, “What?”

He shook his head slowly, “You just look so good. I’m really happy. You look . . .” he trailed off, and held my gaze.

I found myself grinning again, “Thank you.”

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

I stared at him seriously, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“For not coming. I’m really sorry. I should have been here. We were friends before we were anything else, and even if we’re not . . . you know, I should still be here for you.”

“Chloe, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

Sarah pointed at her watch and back at the bailiff.

I pulled an envelope out of my bag and held it up to him, “I read your letter – the one from the cabin. This is my reply, but I can’t give it to you now.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll give it to you when you get out.” He gave me a worried look, and I repeated, “When you get out.”

He let out a breath, “Okay.”

The bailiff walked over and started to cuff him.

He winced, and I wore my grin thickly on my face – an attempt at quelling his worries and embarrassment. It worked: he gave me a small smile.

“See you later, Fitch,” I said as casually as I could manage, considering the circumstances.

“Bye,” he replied, and after some light dragging and unwavering stares, he was gone.

Sarah was at my side, and she said, “I see we’re skipping school now.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. I threw my head back and laughed. This was exactly what happiness felt like. I, Chloe Lane – the brutally beaten, tortured and unwanted – was happy. Now, that’s funny.

“Chloe?” Jake called. I turned back to him. He eyed me warily, “You’ve been gone for a while.”

I smiled, “Sorry.”

“Would you like to enlighten me?” he asked.

We’d been doing this – having coffee a lot. Or hot chocolates. Or milkshakes. And it was nice; I found that I actually looked forward to it now. But I didn’t tell Sarah – I wasn’t sure how that would go down.

“You and Sarah, why didn’t you work out?”

He looked taken aback; we never talked about Sarah much anymore – especially in the context of him and her. I thought it would make him uncomfortable, but as I remembered her crying on the bathroom floor, and thought of Fitch and I, it seemed unfair that two people, who so obviously wanted to be together, weren’t.

“Um . . . I . . . I kind of cheated on her.”

Shock.

I opened my mouth to say something – anything – but I wasn’t sure what was appropriate in this situation. It didn’t seem like him, but I was starting to gather that people were never what they seemed, necessarily.

He sighed, “Funny thing was, she wasn’t even really mad about that. She just didn’t want me to hurt her. She bared herself to me – scars and all, not literally of course,” he said quickly, and I cringed uncomfortable. “She just didn’t want me to get an opportunity to truly hurt her. She told me everything, and if I do anything to hurt her, she’ll be crushed. So, she ran away.”

“And what did you do?”

“I wallowed.”

I frowned, “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know she was running?”

“What? Well, she left, didn’t she? To a whole other continent.”

I shrugged, “Yeah, but . . . did you follow her?”

“Well . . . no. But I couldn’t have.”

“Why not? You knew where she was, didn’t you?”

He frowned, deep in thought, “I . . . well, I . . . I don’t know.”

“Maybe you wanted her to leave.”

He gave me a bored look, “Why would I want her to leave?”

“You just said it. She told you everything, and if you hurt her, she’d be crushed. Maybe you were afraid of hurting her. You had cheated on her, after all.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

“You had one foot in, and one foot out. You want a real shot at forever, you go all in. Give it everything you’ve got, and you try and keep trying, until you have absolutely nothing left to give,” I added.

He looked up at me and stared at me curiously, and then he smiled.

“What?”

He shook his head slowly, “You’re one of a kind, Chloe.”

I grinned, “Well. Look at who I came from.”

He smiled, “Sarah Parks,” he murmured.

“Barron-Parks,” I corrected.

*

The doorbell rang as I set the popcorn on the table. Sarah was hogging the couch, so I moved over to the La-Z-Boy – better television angle anyway.

“Can you get that please?” she asked, delving into the popcorn.

I glared at her and took the bowl, as she reached for more.

“Hey!” she exclaimed amused.

It rang again, “I’ll get it.” I held on to my bowl as walked to the door. Peering through the peephole and then at the monitor on the side – green meant checked and approved. It was Hal anyway.

I pulled it open.

“Evening, Miss Lane.”

“Hi, want me to get Sarah?” I asked.

“Actually, it’s for you. I’m afraid you’ve been served.”