7 Years Ago
This is the hardest thing I've had to do in my entire life.
Hurting someone – although not intentionally – is a huge weight to bear. Especially when it's someone you love who's already gone through enough hurt.
He's at the restaurant. He's always there. But today is Saturday, and he always goes in early on Saturday's. He says it's something about the peace and quiet, with nothing but the wind and the water to listen to.
Dirt and gravel shift under my feet as I walk to see him. The restaurant is less than a mile from our house on the lake, the path curving and winding alongside the water. Currents of the lake are soft, nearly nonexistent. The wind is cool and calm, weather serene - but the storm inside of me is anything but.
With the restaurant in sight, I see him.
Jensen. The love of my life.
He's gorgeous. With dark-brown tussled hair and forest green eyes, he's the epitome of the perfect man, but still has those qualities that make for the perfect boy-next-door. His muscles flex under the slim, navy-blue t-shirt that's clinging to him like a second skin, moving tables and chairs around the outside area of the restaurant.
The wood of the deck creaks as I step onto it, letting him know that someone is here. He turns and wipes the sweat from his forehead before smiling at me, ambling over to wrap his arms around me, embracing me in one of my favorite scents.
"Hey B," he says, placing a kiss on my temple. "What's up?"
"Um, can we- can we talk?"
He releases his hold on me, bringing his shirt up to wipe at the sweat beading against his forehead. The summer heat of June just set in, which I'm thankful for because it would have been horrible to have a ninety-degree day for graduation just a few weeks ago.
"Sure."
He turns, taking my hand in his and leading us down the length of the dock, stopping at the edge to sit down.
"This seems serious. You only pick at your nails like this when you're stressed," he says, head dipping down to gesture at my hands. I hadn't even noticed I was picking at them.
"Kind of serious... yeah. So, uh, I got a job offer. As a songwriter for a label."
"That's great, B. I'm proud of you!" He exclaims, pulling me into his arms as we sit on the edge of the dock. He peppers my face with kisses, making me smile even though I know what's gonna happen next. When he finishes, I pull back and take a deep breath, looking straight into his eyes.
"It's in Los Angeles." The moment the words leave my mouth, the color drains from Jensen's face, body going limp. The silence is suffocating as he contemplates what to say, but then his cheeks flush red and his muscles tense as anger takes over.
"When did you apply for this?" He questions, his tone calm.
"A few months ago, before everything happened. I sent some rough cuts to a few labels all over the country, but I wasn't expecting to hear anything back from them."
"Why didn't you talk to me about this? Why keep it a secret from me?" I see it there, the look of betrayal in his eyes. The sun is blistering on my skin, but I've never felt colder.
"I didn't even think I'd get any offers. I didn't want to bring it up unless I absolutely needed to."
"And is it necessary now? You have to bring it up?" He husked. The words are caught in my throat, so he continues. "Are you going to go?" He may be trying to contain his emotion, but I hear the slight crack in his voice.
The tears flood my eyes with no warning, spilling over and dripping into the lake, adding to the vast volume. The answer is caught in my throat, but it seems like my silence is answer enough for him.
"I guess I know your answer then," he says, voice flat, looking at me as if I were a stranger to him, not someone who's spent the entirety of high school loving him.
"What am I supposed to do, huh?" His voice raises. I still haven't formed any words. "How am I supposed to do all of this alone, Baya? You were supposed to help me, B. You said you'd help," he all but pleads.
"I have helped you, Jensen. More than you can realize right now. I've helped with schedules, homework, driving the kids everywhere, cooking, cleaning, and so much more," I argue.
"You said you wouldn't leave." The brokenness in his voice tears away a piece of me with every word he speaks.
"I didn't plan on leaving, Jensen... at least not when I told you that," I sigh, shoulders sagging slightly.
"You know, when the accident happened, I didn't know what the hell to do. I was in such a shock that I could barely function, and you were there for me. You did the hard stuff that I couldn't do – when it happened – and you helped us get back on our feet without even blinking an eye." He pauses, but only briefly. "You even helped me assume the role as the owner of this place," he says, looking back at the lakeside restaurant that not long ago became his. "We've been through so much together, B; things I didn't think I could get through. But do you know what got me through it? You did. Having you by my side has helped me, because I knew that when things got tough, you would always be there to help me and keep me afloat."
"Jensen, I'm always here to help you. The hard part is over now, and this is only temporary-" I begin, but he keeps going.
"What about our plans, huh? Graduate, go to college together, then move home to have a life together. That was the plan." His voice is laced with acid as he reminds me of everything we've talked about doing together – as if I could forget.
"I haven't forgotten the plan, J."
"We've talked about going to Berkeley for two years now. This decision ruins our whole plan, and you didn't even think to talk it over with me." I don't miss the fact that his voice is raised a bit, but I get it. He's hurt. "This isn't just about you, Baya." The longing for our plans lingered on his every word.
"You couldn't even go if you wanted to, J. You have no idea how much I want you to be with me, but your responsibilities are different now."
"Don't I fucking know it," he says, bitterness coating his voice.
"I have to think of me, too. I've wanted this my whole life, you know that. I thought you'd be happy for me." I hate how weak I sound right now.
"I'm always proud of you Baya, but I'm fucking hurt that you didn't include me on this decision. When have we ever not talked to each other?" He snaps. I see the glistening of tears welling in his eyes, but he blinks them away.
"This isn't something I can pass up, J. This is a big opportunity for me."
"Can't it be an opportunity that's closer to home? Like Nashville or something? It isn't too far." He's turned to full on pleading, grasping at the opportunity to keep me close and prevent his world from being rocked even more than it has already.
"I didn't get any offers from there Jensen..."
"You know what... it's like you didn't even want to try to be somewhere close to home. If you want to go to California – across the damn country - then I can't stop you." His pleading has made a one-eighty, and now he's just not trying to hear me out anymore.
"What does this mean for us? Because I want to try- "
"I hope your dreams are worth it because you won't have anything left in this town if you ever decide to come back. No family, no job, and no me. My responsibilities won't be holding you back anymore, because God-forbid you give up your dreams to stay and help me through this." He's pushing me away, and he won't even let me get a full sentence in to tell him that this isn't what I want. At all.
"This is nothing like that, Jensen! You're being cruel. I'm trying to tell you that I want- " I cry out.
"Life's a bitch sometimes, B," he says apathetically.
"You're going to end a four-year relationship just because I'm leaving to pursue my dream for a while?"
"No," he laughs, but it's so low that it's almost not even a laugh at all. But it's not a happy laugh, more like a sarcastic one. "I'm ending it because the one person in my life that I thought would never leave me is choosing to, even after what I've gone through in the last six months."
I don't have words right now, because he's not even taking a chance to listen to me. This isn't what I want. I want him. People should be able to have both. I should be able to have both the dream and the boy.
I go to reach for him, but he turns his head back out to the water, dodging my touch as if I were poison.
"Jensen. I love you. You can't do this." It comes out broken and fragmented, because I'm too stunned to form a coherent sentence at the moment.
"You don't leave the people that you love, Baya." His voice is cold, detached. Nothing like the boy I fell in love with four years ago and have loved ever since.
"Damn it, J. It's not about that. I'm not leaving for- "
"Enjoy your dream, Baya. But like my mom told me, living your dream is nothing if you don't have someone to share it with."
I reach for him again, but he just stands and looks at me one more time, eyes void of every emotion other than hurt. It's showing all over him, and not just in his eyes.
"You should go, Baya. You're going to leave soon anyways, so why not just go now. I can't look at you right now," he mutters frigidly.
I look at him again, pleading with my eyes because my voice is gone. But he gives me nothing, just stares through me as if I were a stranger.
I have nothing left to give. I look at him again, begging that he'll give me the chance to speak, but Jensen just turns and walks back to the restaurant, not giving me even one more look.
"Jensen!" I squeak and yell at the same time. My throat is sore from crying, and the tightness in my chest is preventing me from yelling any louder. He slams the door on my screams, so since he won't hear me out, I take off running towards home.
The dust from the gravel road is mixing with the tears falling from my eyes, sticking to my face and ruining my makeup.
I make it home in less than five minutes, barreling through the door and barely making it to my room before I collapse in a heaping mess of salty-tears and heartache.
When I finally pull myself together, I get out every suitcase I own. I'm not even worried about what I'm packing, I'm just frantically putting in all the clothes and necessities I think I might need. Whatever I miss, someone can just ship it to me.
"Baya..."
I whip my head around to see Lorraine – Jensen's sister – standing in the doorway of my room.
"What are you doing here, Lo?"
"I was at the restaurant. I didn't hear what was said, but I saw everything. Jensen was furious when he came in. He wouldn't say anything to me and then I saw you run off, so I came after you. What's going on?"
"I got a job offer in LA that starts next month, and I went to tell J about it. He was hurt that I didn't include him, but that isn't true. I wanted to take the job and be with him, but he wouldn't shut up long enough for us to even talk about long distance. He was so cruel to me, Lo." I swipe at my eyes, the mascara I was wearing coming off with it. "He broke up with me, then told me to go, because I was planning on leaving anyway."
"Okay, but what are you doing now? Why are you packing?"
"I'm doing what he told me to, Lo," I laugh sinisterly, because the words he said to me sting so much it hurts, as if my chest were on fire. "I'm leaving."
"No, it's not time!" She raises her voice, stepping into my room. "You can't leave. Not when you haven't said goodbye. What are we going to do without you? You're my best friend, B. And we all need you, not just him. You need to stop and breathe for a second. It'll blow over, he'll calm down, but you can't leave."
"Lo, I love you. You're my best friend too, but I can't stay here. You didn't see the look on his face. I can't stay here and risk seeing him again. If any other talks are gonna be as bad as that one, then I can't handle any more. I'm broken enough."
"I don't think you should leave this way, Baya."
"What other choice do I have, Lorraine? He won't hear me out. My parents are off on some cross-country road trip for a few months, and the one person I love the most just told me to go."
"I know, B. I know why you're doing this, but don't write the people you love off yet, okay? He has to come around. He loves you too damn much not to. I love you. This family loves you. Please don't leave this way."
"Lo, I can't," I break down again, falling to the bed. She comes over to me immediately, wrapping me in a hug that I desperately needed. "It hurts so much."
"I know, B. I'm here. Get it all out." And so, I do. I cry until the tears are no longer there and I'm just dry sobbing into her shoulder. "If you have to leave, then please don't leave all of us. Just because you're gone doesn't mean we can't talk. I need you."
"He acts like I'm leaving forever. Nothing is permanent. And of course I won't forget you, we're keeping in touch no matter what."
"He's going through a lot right now, Baya. It's only been a few months, and he's had to assume a lot of responsibility. It's a lot for anyone to handle, much less an eighteen-year-old whose stubbornness gets the best of him sometimes. He's just overwhelmed and hurting. Give him some time to process, and then maybe he'll be ready to talk."
"You know, you're pretty wise to just be sixteen."
"I had to grow up pretty quickly, but I'll take the compliment."
After some time, I feel the shift in the room. Everything is still raw, but Lorraine has made me laugh just a bit with her being here. She's always been good at that, bringing light to dark situations. I'm going to miss her so much.
"Do you need some help packing?"
"Um, yeah. Please."
What's happening right now doesn't feel right, but it doesn't feel like I have any other choice. I can't face him when he's feeling this way, and I know it's inevitable. That's the thing about living in a small town. You can't run away from your problems here, not forever anyways.
But it's exactly what I'm doing. I'm running. I'm running away because it feels like the only thing I can do, or maybe I'm just being a coward. Most people will tell you to stay and face your problems, but those people don't know Jensen.
He's stubborn to no end, and it's hard to change his mind about anything, but it's because he cares so much. He'll only be ready to talk when it's on his terms, if ever.
In school, every time I would help with his homework, he would argue with me for hours about how his answers were right and that I was showing him the wrong way.
When we were sixteen and he was picking out a car, we drove around with his parents to eight different dealers because if one thing was off about it, he refused to give it any more attention.
Jensen has always played beach volleyball, and when an old teammate tried hitting on his sister, he refused to play anymore until the guy switched teams.
Point being said, Jensen is one of the most stubborn people I know. It usually takes some convincing with him, and me being around isn't going to speed up that process any more than if I leave, so I'm choosing to give him space. It's what he wants, and I owe him that at least.
"Are you sure you have to go?"
"It's what's best, Lo. At least right now."
"Will you please keep in touch with me? If at least not for me, do it for him. As angry as he is right now, he'll want to know that you're okay."
"Of course. I'm leaving for a little while Lorraine, not forgetting. You're still my best friend."
"Exactly. I'd fly to LA and kick your ass if you ever thought otherwise."
"There's my Lo," I laugh, pulling her in for one final hug. "I'm going to miss you so much."
"I'm going to miss you, too."
After saying my last goodbye to Lorraine and loading the car up, I get in and take off, waving goodbye to the life that I know and heading toward the life that I don't.
As I head down the dirt path towards town, the restaurant comes back into my view. Not even three hours ago I was there breaking his heart and mine in return, and now it's open and thriving as if time didn't stop there earlier today. As if neither of our world's weren't rocked.
I slow down going out, watching the wait staff serve the guests outside. Just as I hit the gas, I see him again as he walks out of the double doors holding pitchers. He looks up at me, watching as I pass by, but those aren't the eyes I know. They're different – empty, void, broken.
They're not him, and I caused that.
I added to the pain he's been experiencing for months, all because I want to pursue a love I've had for as long as I can remember. I wanted this dream to include the two of us, but plans don't always go the way we want them to.
We shouldn't have to choose between love and success, but I guess when you're eighteen and still finding yourself, it's hard to combine the two and have them coexist.
He doesn't look at me for long before he turns away. I look back at the road, accelerating the gas and doing something I never thought I'd have to do.
I can't tell him the reason I have to leave. I'm not sure he'd understand. I'd rather him hate me for breaking his heart than tell him the truth.
So, I leave him and everyone I love behind.
Because staying hurts much worse, and neither of us needs any more pain right now.
This has been the hardest thing I've ever done in my life, but pain doesn't last forever.
At least I hope it doesn't.
Hello, all!
If you're coming over from my previous work or if you're new, welcome! Thank you for being here. Let me know if you're a returning reader or a new face! I love to get to know yall.
Baya and Jensen are near and dear to my heart. Their story is a labor of love and I hope you enjoy their story as much as I do.
This is only the prologue. I wanted to bless you with a Christmas gift and voila! Regular updates will begin in early January. Exact date TBD.
If you haven't added this to your library yet, go ahead and do it so you don't miss notifications when updates begin!
Thank you all again for reading. I hope you enjoy <3
- Cassie