Wounded

Chapter 9...

We moved silently through the water, the only sounds coming from our paddles. The sun was warm against my skin, and I soaked up the sunshine. I prayed it would stay this nice of weather as we moved around the pond.

I tried to help with the rowing but Brett did most of the work. There was a reason he was in the back. I was just so stunned at how beautiful this place was that I didn't talk. We maneuvered down one of the little side streams and were immediately surrounded by beautiful tall trees and bushes.

The entire time we paddled around I had a wide smile on my face. I felt happier than I had in ages and I didn't want that to go away. I didn't want this to end because then I would have to face reality. I don't think either of us wanted to do that for we spent a good hour on the pond just slowly moving around.

When Brett moved us into a small clearing, I turned in my spot so I could face him. The water was so calm and there was a slight breeze that helped with the heat of the sun.

"Thank you for bringing me here." I finally spoke, interrupting the silence.

"Thank you for agreeing to come along." Brett flashed me a grin. I found myself staring at that smile and slowly moving my gaze along his face. The face I dreamt about for so long. I took note of a few new scars on his eyebrow and by his bottom lip. I noticed the soft laugh lines by the corners of his eyes and mouth.

The longer I stared at his face, almost like I was memorizing every single new detail, the bigger the pit in my stomach got. We didn't know each other anymore; we were now strangers. The boy—no, the man sitting across from me—was a whole different person than who he once was. Hell, I was a different person.

Suddenly, before I could stop it, I was blurting out the one question I have been dying to ask for eight years.

"Why?"

My sudden question threw him off and he frowned, looking confused.

"Why what?" Before I lost the courage to talk, I made myself continue.

"Why didn't you call or write?"

I just had to know. All these years I had been blaming myself, thinking I did something wrong. I sat there waiting for Brett to answer. I watched him with wide eyes as he struggled to say something, his hand once again going to his neck and rubbing.

"Kayla—"

"Why, Brett? Why did you leave me here without so much as a reason or a goodbye?" By now the words were tumbling out of my mouth.

"I tried for a long time to write you or even call you to explain, but I couldn't ever bring myself to. Believe me, Kayla, that it was the hardest thing that I have ever done."

"It isn't that hard to pick up a phone and call someone. You could have just say "hey, I just wanted to tell you I found someone else." That is not hard to do." I could feel tears starting to prick behind my eyes and I swallowed thickly.

"It wasn't because of some girl, Kayla." He looked like I had just slapped him and for a split second, I was happy from the reaction. A sick part of me wanted him to feel the hurt I felt.

"Then why? Don't I deserve some explanation as to why you broke my heart?" Nothing I could do to stop the tears from now leaking out of my eyes and down my cheeks.

"And now here you are eight years later acting as if you didn't destroy me! You've been out for three months, Brett! Three fucking months and you didn't think I'd want to know that? That I'd want to know that you are alive and not dead somewhere?" I met his eyes and showed him all the hurt I was feeling.