Grey Eyes: Book One of the Forever Trilogy

Chapter Eighteen

Dr. Roberts decided that on second thought, it would probably be more convincing if he called with the news.  I stayed with my mother while he did so, and found myself teary eyed once more, only this time they were happy tears.  Just in the short time since I last looked, had the venom retreated from her opposite arm and shoulders.

Once Dr. Roberts finished with the phone call, I went out to the waiting room with Darren to wait for my grandmother’s arrival.  He sat stiffly in his chair, his neck and shoulder tense. My being a “conjurer” had obvious bothered him greatly. I took a seat beside him uncertain of what to say. He now carried the burden of a secret that wasn’t his to bear, for my sake. I could at least give him what he wanted, freedom from marrying me. After my encounter with Tristan, I think it’s what we both wanted. 

“I brought these for you. Guess you don’t need them, huh?”  He pulled a box of cards from underneath one of the chairs.  I couldn’t tell from his voice whether he was angry or just genuinely wanted me to have them.  When he pulled his from the top of the pile, I knew it was the latter.

It was a bright red card with a heart on the front, a Valentine’s Day card really, but the inside of the flaps were empty, and he’d used the space to write his own message.

Dear Ana,

I know that we haven’t gotten off to the best start, but I need for you to hear me out. For all my talents with words, I suck at telling girls people how I feel. Go figure. But, when I write it seems to flow, so I’m hoping to making myself clear. I’ve got issues, Ana. Ever since you know what, it’s been hard me to get close to people. I just haven’t wanted to. It’s so much easier for me to keep everyone at a distance. It’s comfortable.  I don’t have to risk caring about them, only to have them be taken away from me somehow. When you showed up I panicked, I tried to do the same to you, to push you away. I used our first kiss to get at my ex. But I realized something tonight. You’re going to be my wife. You’re my last chance, and I know it. This fear of getting to someone is like some kind of sickness, and if I fail with you then I’m scared I’ll never beat it. I know this is horrible timing with what’s going on with your mother and all but I need you to know that I’m here if you need to talk. Or if you need to get away for a while. Or if you just need to punch something (you’re pretty scrawny so I’m sure I can take it).  I can back off if you need me to, too.  I can give you space. I’ll wait as long as it takes.  This must all sound crazy given our last couple of days, but honestly I can’t stop thinking about you. I hope you’ll give me another chance.  

P.S.  I sold the truck and donated the money.

I know I can only drive one at a time,

but I’m having a hard time deciding between the Beamer and the Porsche.

But hey, it’s a start right?

-Darren

My head turned slowly up to his. I was stunned. There was no worry or humiliation in his face; he’d meant every word he’d written and wanted me to know it.  If he had told me this before Tristan, before I experienced that intense longing… I couldn’t marry him. It would be a lie, all of it.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” he said. “I kinda put you on the spot.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

Darren reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper and handed it to me.  Taylor wasn’t in the loop like the witches and warlocks who’d sent cards were, and had hastily written down a “Hope your mom gets better!  Miss You Much!” note with her phone number.  He’d told her my mother had gotten sick overnight and that I’d chosen to stay with her.  It was as honest as he could be.  I smiled at her thoughtfulness and stuck her note into my jeans.