Fall From Love Read online

  Fall From Love

  Heather London

  Copyright © 2013 Heather London

  All Rights Reserved.

  Cover design by Sarah Hansen of Okay Creations

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used factiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Acknowledgements

  To Ryan

  Thank you for giving me a life full of adventure and love.

  Love you, always.

  Prologue

  Tonight was supposed to be special. It was supposed to be a night to remember and it was, just not in the way I imagined it would be. Knowing what I know now, I would’ve done anything in the world for him not to walk out the door.

  “Come on, Holly, don’t give me that look,” Adam says, looking away from me and back towards the clothes scattered across the bed. “You know how that look makes me feel.”

  Of course, I knew exactly how the look made him feel. Why else would I be doing it? But as hard as I try, I’m not able to wash the frown from my face. In all honesty, I hate sulking. It isn’t my usual behavior and I actually feel pathetic for doing it, but with Adam, it seems to always work… until tonight that is.

  He sighs in frustration and shoves a sweatshirt into his backpack. “I have to do this, okay. I signed up to be a part of the rescue team so I have to follow through with it.” His voice holds mostly guilt, but I also sense some irritation in there as well. I didn’t want to make him mad; I just want him to feel a little sad about our ruined evening. He’s not even acting like it’s bothering him that much.

  He had just completed his training to be a part of a volunteer mountain rescue team and I know he’s really excited about his first real rescue. When he first told me about signing up, he said that he would be on call one weekend or so a month and I would hardly notice he was gone. If this was any other night, I wouldn’t have minded so much, but since him leaving happened to fall on our two year anniversary, I couldn’t help being disappointed.

  I sigh, realizing that I should quit the pity party I’m giving myself and spend the last few minutes we have together not fighting. Making my way across the room, I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his back. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I just wanted this night to be special.”

  He turns around slowly, careful not to break the hold I have on him, and grabs my chin, tipping it up and forcing me to look at him. “I promise I will make it up to you. They say they really need me. They’re one man short. Someone from the team had to cancel last minute, so my name was up.” He finishes his explanation with a kiss on the tip of my nose.

  “Fine. You’re off the hook for now, but I will hold you to making it up to me. I’m talking massage, champagne, maybe even a candlelit bubble bath… possibly all at once.” I smile and he rolls his eyes.

  Adam is the ultimate man’s man. He loves anything that involves danger or getting dirty. He hates anything romantic. That’s why I’m so disappointed that the dinner he had planned for us, actually slaved over all day, is canceled.

  Sighing heavily, I gaze out his bedroom door and see the candles still burning and the rose petals still scattered across the hardwood floor. He had gotten the phone call from someone on the rescue team just a few minutes after I arrived. It had been just enough time for me to hug and kiss him, thanking him for being so sweet and romantic. Now, instead of eating the dinner that he said he had spent the day preparing and probably making passionate love afterward, I would spend the rest of the night with my head buried in a book. Very romantic.

  Adam finishes packing his backpack, places it by the front door, and then walks back over to me. His arms wrap around my waist as he gently kisses my neck. “I should be back before you wake up,” he says in between kisses. “They said this rescue should only be eight hours round trip, so, if all goes well, I will be back before the sun rises.”

  “Be careful up there, okay?” I hug him tighter.

  “I’ll be extra careful, knowing you’re worrying enough for the both of us.” He pulls back, looking me in the eyes. “You really shouldn’t worry, though, everything is gonna be fine.”

  “Just come back to me soon.” I force myself to smile and fight back the awful feeling I have in the pit of my stomach.

  “I’ll be back before you open those beautiful green eyes.” He kisses me once more, and then he’s gone.

  The rest of the evening I feast on the dinner he had made for us. He insisted that I eat it and not let it all go to waste. He had cooked salmon and topped it with a garlic cream sauce. There was a side dish of some fancy looking rice and a vegetable medley. It was all very fancy and very not Adam. I smile just picturing him cooking all day and wonder how many times he cussed in the process.

  After a couple of hours of studying I slam my book shut, turn off the light, and bury myself under the covers. Glancing at the clock, I see that it’s almost two in the morning. When I finally close my eyes, I look forward to Adam coming back home and snuggling into the bed behind me.

  ❧

  Sometime in the middle of the night I’m woken up by a loud, annoying ringing sound; not a warm body pressing up against mine like I hoped it would be.

  Opening my eyes, I focus and glance around the dark room, quickly remembering that I’m at Adam’s place and not my apartment. My first thought is that the annoying sound is an alarm clock, but the sound begins to sound vaguely familiar and then I realize that it’s my cell phone ringing.

  I stumble around the dark room and see the glow from the dresser in front of me.

  “Hello,” I answer, squinting my eyes at the clock in front of me, seeing that it’s four twenty-seven in the morning.

  “Is this Holly? Holly Treadwell?” The man’s voice on the other end is urgent and serious.

  Instantly, my heart starts to hammer against my chest. I’m not sure why, but images of my family run across my mind. Has something happened to my mom? Dad? Brother? Even through my foggy just-woke-up-mind, I know something is wrong. There is no other explanation for a strange man calling… especially at this time. A horrible pain starts in the pit of my stomach and with my free hand, I grip the dresser in front of me, expecting the worst.

  “Yes, this is Holly.”

  “Holly, there’s been an accident,” the urgent voice comes back on the line. He pauses for a few seconds and the silence is so painful, I feel like I’m being sliced in two. “It’s Adam. He’s being air lifted to St. Anthony’s hospital. I think you should head over there as soon as possible.”

  I hold the phone to my ear and, even though I heard everything that the man has just said, it almost feels like I’m dreaming... or maybe it’s that I want to be dreaming.

  “Holly.” The man’s
voice is louder now. “Did you hear what I just said? You need to get to St. Anthony’s as soon as you can.”

  Somehow, I snap myself out of the daze I’m in. “Yeah, I heard you. I—I’ll be there.”

  I put the phone down on the dresser and stumble backwards, falling onto the bed, feeling as though my knees are about to give out beneath me.

  This isn’t happening; this can’t be happening.

  Chapter One

  I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity.

  ~ Gilda Radner

  Months later...

  “Come on, Holly. I’ll beg if I have to,” Jenna tilts her head at me, pleading. I see the desperation and determination in her eyes and I wait for the guilt to hit me, the desire to go out and have fun, but it never comes. I feel absolutely nothing.

  “Just give it up, Jenna. There’s nothing you can say or do that will convince me to change my mind.”

  Her shoulders slump over in defeat. “Nothing? You’re gonna make me go alone? I’m sure Becca will be there. You know how she annoys the shit outta me.”

  “Then don’t go,” I say blankly.

  “C’mon, classes start back next week. One last weekend to have a little fun before our senior year starts.”

  When I don’t respond to her, she juts out her lower lip, giving me her best pouty face. Normally, that face would make me do anything she wants, but that was back when I actually cared if I hurt her feelings. A few months ago, I would’ve sworn that face could’ve melted the blackest of hearts, but as I sit here and stare at her, it does nothing to me.

  “It’s open mic night at Sterling’s... you love open mic night,” she adds, trying her best to persuade me.

  My heart tweaks a little and I almost feel relieved, knowing that there still may be some life left in it after all. The memories and happy times I’ve had at Sterling’s flash through my mind. The energy from the crowd, the total feeling of freedom I felt when I sang up on stage, the laughing, the having fun—enjoying life. I close my eyes and try to shut the memories out, not wanting to travel down memory lane. I used to love open mic night at Sterling’s.

  Instead of answering her, I collapse down on the couch, grab the blanket that’s laying on top of it and pull it up to my chin.

  “How about we have a girl’s night in then?” She knows she’s losing me and the desperation in her voice is starting to sound like whining. “We could order Chinese, watch some movies, and talk.”

  I know what she’s trying to do. She doesn’t want to eat Chinese or watch movies and she doesn’t just want us to talk, she wants me to talk. Why couldn’t she just leave me alone?

  “No, you go and have fun.” I turn on the TV, getting more comfortable on the couch. It’s not that I have a favorite show to catch up on or anything, I just like the noise… anything to drown out the silence.

  “But I won’t have fun if I know you’re here being miserable. Please, you’ll have fun, I promise.”

  I sigh, realizing that she isn’t going to give up easily tonight. I blink away from the T.V. and look over at her. Again, I wait for the guilt to hit me. I wait for my heart to feel bad at the way I’m treating her, but nothing comes. Without saying a word, I look back towards the T.V. and begin to flip through the channels, thinking that maybe if I just ignore her, she’ll go away.

  “Holly, c’mon.”

  I don’t answer or look at her again. After a few seconds of silence, I can feel the tension between us build.

  “So you’re just going to ignore me?”

  I can sense the irritation in her voice, but it’s still not enough to get me to respond.

  “So, this is what it’s come to, then?” The tone in her voice has escalated to the next level. We have had this same argument before and I know that an explosion is just around the corner. Then, she will storm off and leave me alone. Finally.

  “Fine, I tried. And just so you know, I love you more than anything, but I don’t know how much more of this I can stand. It’s been months and you’re still shutting me out. You’re shutting everyone out. I want to be here for you, but you have to let me!”

  Even after her little rant is over, I still don’t look at her because, deep down, what she says is the truth, but it hurts too much to be any other way. Shutting everyone out is the easiest way.

  I can see her out of the corner of my eye, throwing her hands up in the air. “Is this what you want... to push away the only friend who still gives two shits about you… then fine, you win. I give up.” She turns around, grabs her purse, and leaves, slamming the door shut behind her. A dramatic exit… typical.

  Even though that may have been the angriest I’ve ever seen her, it’s still not enough to get me up and running after her. I continue to stare at the T.V., totally numb to what has just taken place. The old me would have run out after her if something like this had happened. Now, my heart is numb to just about everything, and nothing seems to faze me.

  About a minute passes and the front door swings open again and Jenna comes back through it with the same urgency that she left with. Maybe she forgot her bitch pills, I think to myself.

  “Nope. Not gonna do it. Not gonna let you shut me out. Get your ass off that couch and into the shower. Wash off that three day old nastiness, style that beautiful brown hair of yours, put on that copper eye shadow that plays up your killer green eyes, and put on one of those hot outfits you used to wear that made every guy drool and every girl jealous you were born!” She finishes her outburst, exhales loudly, and points towards my bathroom.

  I stare at her, but I don’t answer. It’s not that I’m trying to ignore her; I think my silence is more from shock of what she just said and the look in her eyes when she said it.

  She takes a step forward. “So help me God, Holly Ann Treadwell. I’m taking you out tonight if I have to drag you into that shower myself.”

  I flinch at her words. The look in her eyes is beginning to scare me. I swallow hard and truly believe that if I don’t get off the couch and into the shower, that this argument—or whatever it is we’re having—will escalate to the physical level. Jenna is a few inches shorter than me and to most people she may have even looked weak—easily breakable by her tiny frame—but I know better. Not that we have ever been in any type of physical altercation before, but I know if it were to come to that, she could take me, hands down. Never in the three years that I’ve known her, has she ever talked to me like this. Never has she looked at me with such a fury in her eyes… and never have I ever been scared of her like I am now. Slowly, without another word spoken between us, I get up, walk right past her and into the bathroom.

  ❧

  It takes me an hour to get ready. I shower, dry my hair, and put on a minimal amount of makeup. It takes me trying on five different outfits before I finally find one that I’m comfortable with. My attire for the past three months has been nothing more than sweatpants and t-shirts so there is no way I can go back to one of the hot outfits Jenna requested.

  When I finally emerge, her back is facing me and she’s twirling a piece of her long auburn hair. After turning around, she smiles at me, seemingly pleased with my choice of jeans, cream turtleneck, and brown leather, knee-high boots.

  “You look beautiful,” she says.

  “Thanks.” The right side of my mouth lifts, threatening a smile. “Just so you know, you’re going down as the worst best friend in the history of best friends and you’re a bitch,” I tell her, only half joking.

  She half gasps, half laughs. “Damn, is that a sign of the old Holly coming through? You made a joke, called me a bitch, and actually put some feeling behind it.” Her sarcastic demeanor makes my half smile turn into a full one.

  She gasps again, but this time she grabs her chest in a dr
amatic fashion. “Oh, my God. It’s a smile. An actual smile. Not one of those cutesy, bullshit, fake smiles you’ve been giving me lately. No, that was a true, genuine smile. You know, I think that I’m gonna have to be a bitch more often if this is the reaction I get for yelling at you and treating you like crap, expect more of it.”

  My eyes narrow and I give her a playful scowl. “Don’t push it.”

  She wraps her arms around me, squeezing me tight. “It’s good to have a piece of you back, Holls.”

  ❧

  We pull up to Sterling’s and I take a deep breath, trying to prepare myself for my first night out in months. On the outside the building looks the same, but I already know that the inside will feel different. He won’t be there, holding me in his arms, telling me how beautiful I look or how good my skin smells. He won’t be there, kissing me good luck before I get on stage. And, he won’t be there, telling me how amazing my voice sounds after I get off stage.

  “Hey, if things get too heavy, or you’re not having a good time, we’re out, okay?” Jenna assures, putting the car in park.

  “Okay.” I take another deep breath in and blow it out, trying to calm my nerves.

  We walk in and the music that’s bouncing off the walls consumes me. The large, dimly lit room still looks the same; it’s as if nothing has changed. My eyes reach over to the right and I scan the bar that’s basked in different colors from the neon signs hanging on the wall behind it. Jenna turns to smile at me and my heart feels like it’s going to explode through my chest as we squeeze our way through the crowds. I see a few familiar faces and most of them stare at me with wide eyes and mouths agape. With each step I take, I realize that coming here was a mistake and I’m not ready to handle this—the people, the emotions, the memories of happy times. So many images swirl around in my mind and I try to block them out and concentrate on something else—anything else. Music, Holly. Just listen to the music.