“but when you told me the whole story, I felt like throwing up”—Daddy Issues (Remix) by The Neighbourhood, Syd
This is it. The part in which Aaron will tell me I fucked up last night and he will fly home because he cannot deal with all of this.
And I did go a little bit too much into detail last night. Screw you very much for that, drunk Sofia.
I honestly wish I couldn’t remember what happened after midnight, but I do remember… all too well.
I remember every single time I tried to kiss Aaron back in the barn, and the tons of times he kissed my cheek or forehead instead, then told me—loud enough—that he doesn’t want people around us to feel uncomfortable if we kept on kissing all the time. But I didn’t care, not then anyway. I just wanted to kiss him because these were my only chances I got.
He was the one to say if I wanted to kiss him I shall do so.
When he brought me home, helped me get changed and removed my goddamn makeup for me because drunk Sofia was a tad too drunk, my heart was melting. And thanks to my heart now taking over my entire body in its liquified state, of course I would spill out some information that were never meant for his ears.
For instance, that I imagined what our wedding would be like. Our. Goddamn. Wedding.
“What’s keeping us from being together?” he asks, his eyes on me when I turn around to look at him because it would be rude not to. “You cannot tell me it’s because you don’t want to be with me.”
Didn’t think I could. I mean, you just have to look around my room and it becomes quite obvious. I suppose he made that connection the second he walked in here. And perhaps the fact that I literally admitted to having held on to his promises.
But that’s not my problem. I can admit to wanting to be with Aaron. Because I do. I want to be with him so badly, I’d give up figure skating if that meant we could be together.
Unfortunately, my only reason not to be with him isn’t as simple as that.
It’s the fact that I can’t be in New City, or New York, and his entire life is there. His family, his friends, even his career is in New York. And I cannot ask him to give that up, nor would I ever. He’s worked too hard to get to where he’s at now, and I wouldn’t allow him to give that up for me.
I’m sure the NYR already have a spot reserved for him, and to turn down getting drafted by them would be insanely stupid. Especially when I know the New York Rangers have been Aaron’s favorite hockey team since the beginning of time.
And I can’t tell him why I will never be able to live in New York ever again. Going to St. Trewery was a risk, and I’m not going to lie, I was hoping to see Lily and Aaron one last time before we’d never meet again. But I now realize that I’ve only caused more damage than good.
“I’m only in America until the end of February, Aaron,” I let him know. I leave early because I’ve been studying in Germany this entire time, and I will graduate from my university, not St. Trewery.
“But you can come back here.” He sits up straight, eyebrows drawing together like he doesn’t understand what I mean. And maybe he doesn’t at first, but then his eyes widen when he connects the dots. “You don’t plan on moving back, is that it?”
It’s been my plan. I always wanted to come back to him. I always planned on spending my life with Aaron, but then the incident happened and now I cannot enter the New York state without thinking about him. Without feeling like I…
“You never planned to come back,” he mumbles to himself, his eyes no longer on me but on the space of mattress in front of him.
I get up from my chair and walk over to my bed, kneel, and take Aaron’s hands in mine. Hurting him is the last thing I want. I shake my head, feeling the tears build up in my eyes when I say, “We came back.”
He looks up, confusion written all over his face.
“We came back when I was twelve years old.” No matter how much this is going to hurt me, it’s better to tell Aaron the truth so he understands that I never planned to leave him. I need him to understand that if I could, I would jump at the opportunity to be with him, to live the life with him he’s promised me. He needs to know that I would do anything in my power to be with him if it weren’t for that one obstacle that’s like the gates of Hell to me.
And so, with taking one more deep breath, I tell him, despite having promised myself to never open up about it.
“We were visiting my grandparents the day we came back,” I start, having his full attention. “I was so excited to see you and Lily again, that all day long, I was begging my parents to leave. We would spend the night in New York at my grandparents’ house, then leave to see you and Lily in the morning.”
His hand tightens around mine, giving it an encouraging squeeze. Aaron lifts my face to his, then motions for me to take a seat next to him, but I can’t. Not before I have told him the entire story.
After this, he might never even want to speak to me ever again.
“I couldn’t sleep all night long, and eventually I got thirsty, so I went downstairs to grab a glass of water. The lights were turned off because I didn’t want to risk waking anyone up, which meant I was sneaking around, but that wasn’t the problem.” I feel like I cannot breathe, but I have to power through. I owe him that much. “At some point, I started to hear noises, like footsteps, and I knew they weren’t mine. It freaked me out, so I started to run upstairs… until I felt someone’s hand grab on to the back of my shirt. I started to scream, to cry, but I wasn’t aware that it would only get worse.”
Even though it’s taking me an eternity to even find words, Aaron doesn’t interrupt me. He sits there and listens patiently.
“I remember kicking around myself, and eventually that hand let go off me. But then I heard a loud noise. It sounded like someone fell down the stairs. My parents woke up from my screams and they came rushing to me. The lights turned on and when I looked down to see who was trying to attack me, I barely had a vision sharp enough to confirm what I saw.” I break out into heavy sobs. “There was blood, Aaron. I have—” I hiccup “—I have never seen so much blood in my entire life. You’d think ten gallons doesn’t sound too much, but it really is. And I didn’t even see the whole ten gallons, obviously, and still it was so goddamn much.”
“I remember my father yelling at me, telling me that I’m out of my mind and that I’ve spooked myself with watching too many of those criminal TV shows. And that—” I gasp for some air. I can feel my heart breaking, again. This was hands down, the worst night of my life. “He said that I killed my grandpa because I just refused to listen to him.”
My father has told me over and over and over again to not watch these TV shows because I was too young and would be too spooked by them. He was right, of course. But did I listen? No. And why didn’t I? Because I was holding a grudge for tearing me away from Aaron and Lily.
So, what did I get out of not listening? I killed my own grandfather.
It was an accident, so much I can see by now. I was scared, and I never meant to murder my grandpa, and yet I can’t bear to be near that place.
In what must be less than a heartbeat, Aaron has pulled me off the floor and sits me right in his lap. His hands come up to my face, his thumbs stroking underneath my eyes to remove some of my tears.
“That wasn’t your fault, Sofia,” he speaks quietly, softly. “Accidents happen. All the time.”
“But I killed him.” My arms sneak around his torso, my head pushing past his hands until my forehead rests against his shoulder. “I killed him, Aaron.”
“Did you mean to do it?”
I shake my head instantly, praying that he can feel it as a headshake and not a nod. Even if I ever had the desire to murder someone, I’d be too chickenshit to go through with it. Not only would I rather stay out of prison and live in freedom, but it’s also just not worth it to murder someone.
“You were twelve, Sofia. I highly doubt you even thought about someone being able to die right in that moment.”
“My father hates me for it,” I sob. Admittedly, I haven’t made it easy for my father, as we have established before. But ever since that day… God, the look in his eyes, the anger, his words; I’ll never be able to forget either of them.
“I think your father is smart enough to know you never meant to cause any harm, my love. It was a shock for him as well. People tend to say awful things when in shock,” Aaron says. Why, oh why does he have to try to make me feel better about all of this. I thought he would hate me after this. Perhaps even see me as a cruel, vicious murderer that wasn’t charged because my family told the police my grandpa tripped and never mentioned my name in connection with his death.
But my name is connected to his death. If it weren’t for me, he’d still be alive.
“Have you talked to your grandma since then?” His arms close around my body, holding me just that tiny bit tighter.
“No,” I answer. “I couldn’t. In my mind, she doesn’t want to see me, which I can understand. I visited my grandpa’s grave a couple of weeks ago. I hoped that maybe I could get some closure, but I didn’t.”
Not sure how someone’s supposed to get closure from visiting a grave and apologizing over and over again to a dead person, but I figured it was a try worth it.
“I couldn’t stick around, Aaron. If I had stayed around New York, it would have killed me. Guilt would have gotten to me and I… I don’t think I would have made it out alive.” Staying around New York would still kill me. The incident still haunts me in my sleep, even my daytime. It’s almost a miracle when I get a week without thinking about it.
A week when I’m not in New York. Ever since I’m back there, it’s been haunting me daily. And I’m not sure I am strong enough to stick around without making everyone else around me miserable.
“Your parents permanently moved to Germany for you then?” I nod because they did. They didn’t suggest leaving America for good, I did. I begged my parents to leave because sticking around wasn’t an option for me. “If your father hates you as much as you think he does, I doubt he would have moved to the other side of the globe for you.”
I keep quiet for a moment, trying to let Aaron’s words sink in.
He might have a point there. If I hated someone, I wouldn’t move far away from home for them. And he does pay for my current stay in America. He wanted to have me home for the holidays. If he hated me that much, wouldn’t he want me to stay as far away from him as humanly possible?
Just yesterday he brought out my jacket because he saw I forgot it in the barn. If he hated me, he wouldn’t do that. If he hated me, he wouldn’t give a shit about me, but he does. He cares about me more than I ever allowed myself to see.
I need to apologize. To him. To my grandma. To everyone. I’ve been so caught up with making myself believe that everyone hates me for killing my grandpa, that I never even considered them seeing it as what Aaron has just pointed out, an accident. Surely, they know I never intended to murder someone. Not even my sister is that cruel and holds it against me, and I think we have already established that she just can’t stand me. So if not even Julia mentions it with every—in her eyes—mistake I make, or to get me to do stuff for her… they cannot see me as a murderer, could they?
Pulling away from the hug, I quickly wipe away some tears before allowing myself to meet Aaron’s eyes. And when they meet, I almost wish they didn’t.
The look in his eyes is something I never expected to see again. Admiration. He wholeheartedly believes that I am a good person. Aaron doesn’t see me as anyone below him even after my admission.
My heart skips a beat, butterflies in my stomach go wild and I can’t help but pray I will sort this shit out because being with Aaron has been my dream for far too long to give it up now. Now that I could have it. He’s within reach, holding his hand out for me to take, offering a relationship my younger self would kill me for declining. But all of this only if I manage to get past my trauma, grow as a person and be able to give Aaron the love he deserves.
It’s not fair to him otherwise.
Unless I can promise Aaron a future without him having to make a crazy and stupid sacrifice, I can’t promise him forever. I can’t have him get his hopes up only for me to end up running away.
And I believe it’s important that I’m being honest with him.
“I can’t promise you to stick around, Aaron. Being in New City, so close to Manhattan, where this happened… it shakes me up. Every single day I spend over there, I feel like the walls are caving in on me. I need to sort this out beforehand, otherwise this would never be fair to you.”
“We’ll figure this out together, Icicle.” He cups my face with his hands, forcing our eyes to stay locked. “I promised to marry you, and I am going to renew my promise now.”
My eyes widen drastically, it feels like if they open just a millimeter more, they’ll fall right out of my head. He’s not—He can’t possibly mean that.
“Sofia Michelle Carlsen, I promise you; you and I will get married one day. I don’t care how long it will take us to get there. I don’t care what it will take us to get there, we will get married because there is no one in this entire universe that could ever convince me of you not being meant for me,” he says, being deadly serious.
This time, there is no goodbye after the promise. Neither of us has to leave and go catch a flight to another country. He hasn’t just said those words because he is afraid to never see me again, he means it.
His lips connect with mine like he’s sealing a deal. And with this kiss, he promises yet another thing. It’s a promise of realness. He promises me years with him, a lifetime. In his kiss is the promise of a future, the sweetness of waiting for, and having found real love.
This isn’t some movie or book worthy kiss. It’s far more than that. It’s a step forward, a step into a passion that could easily catch on fire if handled wrongly. And yet, in his kiss I find home.
“And let’s be honest here, no one but me would ever put up with a tangled-themed wedding,” he adds as soon as we pull apart from the kiss.
I could swear my cheeks are redder than the wine I drank last night, but I also don’t really care right at this moment. They only manage to deepen in color even more when I hesitate to ask, “Does that mean I’m your girlfriend now?”
Aaron suddenly reaches a hand out for my neck, tugging on my necklace that he did not take off before putting me to sleep. “We’re way past the girlfriend and boyfriend status, my love. You’ve been my fiancée ever since I gave you this necklace.” He blinks slowly, inhaling deeply like he can’t believe he just said that. “We don’t have to put a label on anything, but you sure as hell aren’t just anyone to me.”
