Stolen Course by Aly Martinez
“Then, you are coming home with me. They can stay here alone. I want to be inside you where I can say I love you properly.” He leans his forehead against mine.
“I like the sound of that.”
“You always do.” He rolls his hips into mine.
“HEY, ANGEL,” I say as I walk up to Manda’s grave.
The familiar weight settles in my stomach the way it does every time I come here. I miss her—there is no denying that—but it’s just different these days. Emma has filled the darkness surrounding my heart. She has rejuvenated me and pieced me back together. It’s been just over three months since we met at the hospital, but Emma Erickson has changed me, and as rough as it is going to be, it’s time I told Manda.
“Sorry. It’s been a few days since I was here, but I wasn’t exactly sure what to say. I’m treading in new waters right now.” I settle down on the ground next to her name. “I finally met someone who makes me feel again. It’s been a long time coming, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to move on from the holes you left in my soul.”
I glance around the cemetery, very aware that I’m talking to the wind. Fucking hell, Manda is the wind. No matter how long it’s been, it still cuts me deep.
“I’ve been seeing Emma Jane Erickson for months now, and last weekend, I finally grew a pair of balls and I told her I love her.” I let out a loud sigh. “Jesus Christ, I was scared to death at first, Manda. This whole thing with Emma has been a whirlwind. It’s been fast, but it’s the realest thing I have felt since I met you. I know she’s Sarah’s sister, but no matter how fucked up it is for me to be with her, I couldn’t stop myself from falling in love with her. I even feel like you may have had a little something to do with that—which is why I’m here today.
“I loved you, angel, but this thing with Emma is something completely different. I don’t know where it’s going for sure, but I know where I want it to go eventually. So I hope you understand that I need to leave this with you.” I spin the black box around in my hand. “I don’t feel right about carrying it around with me anymore. It’s time. Jesse has told me repeatedly that I should leave it here, but I just couldn’t let go.” My voice chokes in my throat at the admission. “It’s just that we never talked. I never knew your reasons, but I hope you know there is nothing you could have said that would have changed my mind. Nothing.
“You were right. We didn’t need a piece of paper or this”—I hold up the box—“to bind us together. You were my wife the first time you said yes. We both knew it in our hearts.”
My head falls into my hands as a single tear rolls down my face.
“I’ll still visit. You can’t get rid of me that easily. But that belongs to you now. It always did.”
“IT’S A super small detour,” I say, turning down a side street.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
“Caleb!” she screeches in frustration.
“Manda!” I yell back, squeezing her leg with a teasing smile on my face.
“We’re going to be late. You know Brett gets pissy because we are always late.”
“He’ll get over it. He always does.” I brush off her excuse as I pull up in front of Hip Huggers—the club we met at almost exactly three years earlier.
“Um…you may have to wait until later if you are planning to get your dance on,” she says, running her hand through her hair, flipping the red curls out of her face.
“I don’t want to dance, but this will only take a second.” I jump out of the car then open her door, dragging her out to join me.
“What are you doing?”
“Just come on.”
I lead her to the front door of the club. After I knock twice, the door finally opens. I nod to the bald bouncer named Mick. I’ve known him forever, and thankfully listening to his stupid hunting stories has finally paid off.
“Hey, Mick!” Manda calls over her shoulder as I drag her down the short hallway and into the bar area.
Just as Mick showed me last night, I walk to the DJ booth and press the flashing red light. With the press of one button, Daniel Bedingfield’s If You’re Not The One blares over the sound system.
“What are you doing?” she asks, stepping away from me as the white lights begin dancing around the floor.
“What I should have done months ago. I’m re-proposing.”
“You’re repro-whating?”
“We only have ten minutes, but I’m not leaving until you agree to be my wife.” I intertwine our fingers and tug, forcing her to collide with my body.
“I already did that.”
“No, you said yes, but based on the last six months, we both know you have no intentions of actually marrying me.”
“That is not true.” She pulls away, suddenly aware of where this conversation is going.
“Oh, it’s very true, beautiful. However, that all ends tonight.”
She shakes her head and turns to walk away. She always gets so pissed when we talk about this. “I’m not having this conversation again, Caleb.”
“I believe we are, because it’s obvious we have conflicting ideas about how it’s going to end.”
False confidence rolls off me. I’ve been having this argument with Manda for a while now. She never budges, but I’m not letting it go tonight. I want answers, and I want her to give them to me. I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out a velvet black box containing a wedding band covered in diamonds.
“Manda, I met you here three years ago, and that night was the most amazing night of my life. I walked into this stupid club looking for a girl, but what I found was the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. Funny how one night can change everything, huh? I’m not going to play this game with you anymore. I love you. Marry Me.”
“I’ve already said yes!” She begins to chew on her top lip and pace a circle around me.
“No, I’m asking you to actually commit to marrying me this time. Don’t just say it—do it.”
“I said yes, damn it!” she shouts again, continuing her nervous pattern.
“Manda, stop. What the hell are you doing? We share a house and a bed. The only thing we don’t share is a last name.”
“Why is this so fucking important to you? Can you just give me a little space? I love you. Forever. Is that not enough for you?”
“No!” I scream, rising to my feet. “It’s not enough. It won’t be enough until I have all of you. And I’m not even sure it that will be enough, Manda. I love you. I want you to be mine, but more than that. I want to be yours.”
“Damn it! This is ridiculous. I’ll marry you eventually, just not right now. It’s not a big deal. Just let it go!” She stops in front of me, throwing her arms out to the side
“Just like that, huh? You want me to let it go? If it’s not that big of deal to you, why don’t you just wear the God damn ring and sign your name on a fucking piece of paper. Because this is a really fucking big deal to me.” I shove the black box back in my jacket pocket and storm past her and out the door.
I get in the car seething with anger and frustration. For the life of me, I can’t understand her hesitation about getting married. She never offers an explanation. She might be wearing my ring, but she isn’t my fiancée. She has no intentions of ever marrying me. She will also never leave though. Maybe it’s time I give up on this power struggle and just accept the fact that she won’t ever be my wife.
Fuck, that idea burns. Damn it! I can’t make her see how much I want this. Manda is my everything. I want it permanently. How am I just supposed to move forward with her, hopefully have children and build a life with her, when she can’t even commit completely to me?
Manda doesn’t immediately follow me out, but a few moments later, she opens the car door and slides in. “I love you.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” I say dryly.
“How important is it to you that we get married?” she asks, causing my eyes to snap over to hers. A
“I just want you, Manda. I’m not trying to force you into this, I swear.” I reach over and dry her tear with my thumb.
“I don’t want to lose you when you finally get sick of waiting for me.”
“I’m not going anywhere. This sucks, but I won’t walk away. I’d rather have you as my fiancée for the rest of my life than not have you at all.” I lean in and kiss her, pouring every bit of my love into her mouth.
“How about this? We go to dinner with Sarah and Brett. Then we go home and figure this out. I have a few things we need to talk about, and if we’re on the same page after that, we can set a date.”
“Don’t fuck with me about this Manda. Are you serious?” I ask, and she offers me a nervous smile.
“Yeah, I’m serious.”
“You’re going to set a date? Tonight?”
“No, I said after we talk and figure out a few things, we can set a date.”
“That’s a yes.” I kiss her again.
“No, that’s a maybe,” she says sternly, but it does nothing to wipe away my smile.
“No, that’s a yes.” I wink and start up the car.
“Please don’t get excited until we talk, I need you to hear me out and listen to my reasons.”
“Sure,” I say, completely ignoring her warning. I reach into my jacket pocket, pull out that black box, and place it on her lap. “Here. Hold on to this. You’ll be needing it soon.”
“I can’t believe you bought a wedding ring.” She flips open the box to get a good look at it. “It’s beautiful, Caleb.” She never takes it out or even touches it, but she looks up at me with a hopeful glow in her green eyes.
“It’s going to look amazing on you, Mrs. Jones.”
“If I put it on, I’ll never take it off. But I need to make sure you really want to give it to me first,” she says with an eerie edge to her voice.
“Manda, I’ve been asking you to marry me for six months now. I think it’s safe to assume I want to give it to you.”
“Yeah, I know. Let’s just go to dinner. I could use a drink.” She places the box in the cup holder and straightens to pull on her seatbelt.
“Not too much. I need you sober when you set a date tonight.” I smirk and pull out of the parking lot.
“TELL ME about your tattoos,” I ask, sitting on Caleb’s lower back.
He is sprawled out across the bed as I massage his body. He had a tough workout at the gym tonight—or at least that is what he said. I’m pretty sure he just wanted me to rub his back. I’m okay with that though. He always returns the favor, right after he rolls me over and really loosens me up a few times.
“Manda’s favorite song was Sarah McLachlan’s Blackbird. I swear she used to listen to it on repeat all day every day.”
I freeze at his answer. I must have asked him this question a dozen times, but he always finds a way to get out of answering. I never push it. I know it’s some sort of tribute to Manda. I just don’t know the details.
“Oh,” is all I say.
I continue to scratch my nails down his back as silence fills the room. This is a giant tattoo. There is no way it was a simple request or impromptu decision. He had to have put a lot of thought into it, but I don’t want to dig too deep and make him uncomfortable by prying.
“I got it piece by piece every month for the first two years after she died. It was therapeutic for me. It made me feel like I didn’t just have to hurt on the inside anymore.”
The idea of Caleb hurting so much breaks my heart. I quickly give up the massage and lean down pressing my chest flush with his back. I hold my weight on my knees and elbows but snuggle in as close as possible to his muscular shoulder, looping my arms under his.
“Did you design it?
“Yeah.” I know he’s not done with just that one word, but it takes him a little while to continue. “She can’t fly anymore, so I decided I would do it for her.”
“Tell me about it.” I sit up and click on the lamp next to the bed.
“Are you sure you want to hear this? I know you don’t have an issue with my past, but listening to me drone on about another woman is a different story. I know I wouldn’t be able to handle listening to you talk about someone else.”
“I’m sure. I love you. I want to know it all.”
He lets out a loud sigh but begins to talk. “Two months after she died, I decided to get her name done. I was in a bad place back then. She was gone, Brett and I weren’t speaking, and I was filled with anger and hate for…” He pauses for a second, but we both know who he was going to say. Thankfully he leaves it at that. “Anyway, I knew I wanted a blackbird, so I drew up the one on my chest and took in the very next day. The burn of that needle felt so fucking good. It reminded me that I was alive. I was walking through life emotionless and numb, and I began to crave that burn and all that it symbolized. The next month, I had entirely too many beers one night and sat down and started drawing on the back of an envelope. The first draft of my blackbird was born.”
I begin to inspect every curve of the dark black ink. I’ve seen it a million times, but as he talks, I feel like I’m looking at it for the very first time. This is the story of Caleb’s life those first two years after the accident, and it fascinates me. It’s a timeline of his grief and pain—so hauntingly dark yet beautiful.
“Where did you start?”
“On the sleeves. The tattoo artist laughed at me when I brought in that drawing. He never thought I would finish it. It took forever, but I was determined.” I trace my fingers over his shoulders and down his arms, causing goose bumps to pebble his skin. “I got fly free because I hope that’s what she is doing these days. She isn’t weighted down here on earth the way I am. She’s soaring, I’m sure. Manda never knew how to do anything else.”
A tear finds its way from my eye and drips onto his back. Like a bolt of lightning struck him, Caleb quickly rolls under me. I remain straddling his body, but it’s now his stomach instead of back.
“Don’t cry, Emmy. It was a really dark time for me. I’m okay now.”
“Roll back over! I don’t want you to see me cry.” I slap his chest to try to lighten the mood a little bit. The expressions of concern and heartbreak mingle on his face.
“Please stop,” he says tenderly, gently pushing my hair back behind my ears. I offer him a quick nod, but I continue my tattoo investigation on his chest.
“These are really amazing.” I trace my fingers over the blackbirds rising up his shoulder. “But I wasn’t done with your back.”
He lets out a groan but rolls back over underneath me. I lift my finger and glide it down his spine to the small of his back.
“Did you start with the head of the bird first?” I ask, curious about the various stages.
“No, we did the entire outline and the shading first, then filled it in one section at a time as the months passed.”
My fingers trace over the word stolen weaved into one of the patterns in the bird’s body. But before I have a chance to ask about it, he quickly stops me, “Don’t ask. You know the answer. My words will only be bitter.”
I know he thinks Sarah stole Manda from him, and that guts me, but if I want to make this work with Caleb, I have to bite my tongue. I say nothing, but my hands never stop roving over his back. Finally, I reach the head of the bird. The menacing green eye staring at me. Once again, anticipating my question, he answers.
“Manda had the most beautiful green eyes. I met her in a dark dance club, yet I can still remember her eyes from across the bar.”
“How long were y’all together?” I have to ask. I know the basic story, but I want to hear it from Caleb.
“Three years. Engaged for six months of that.”
I lean down and kiss the back of his neck just above where his tattoo starts. “When were y’all supposed to get married?”
“I don’t know.” His answer honestly surprises me, but judging by hi
Suddenly, Caleb rolls, flipping me to the bed beside him. I let out a scream, but seconds later, he has me pinned against the bed with his upper body.
“I told her about you today.” He leans in for a brief kiss.
“You told her?”
“Yeah. I stopped at her grave on the way home from the gym. I used to carry her wedding ring around with me. But, Emma, I love you. I want this to go somewhere with us, and that ring was a symbol of my past. I want you to be my future. So I left the ring with her where it belongs.”
“Wait. You left it at her grave?” I ask, trying to sit up.
Shit, that is a really big deal. I love Caleb, but he just left his dead fiancée’s wedding ring at her grave because he wants a future with me. That is fucking huge for a man who has been carrying it around for five years. What if this doesn’t work out and I have to live with the guilt that he gave everything up for me? He can’t get that back once it’s gone.
“I love you. I don’t need that ring anymore. I just need you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut to hide the uncertainty and panic. I knew things were moving fast with Caleb, and up until now, I was completely on board. However, I don’t think I’m quite ready for him to make life-changing decisions around me yet.
“I love you, too.” I briefly kiss his mouth. “But I need to go home and get my camera and stuff for my shoot tomorrow.”
“What?” he yells, leaning back to look me in the eye.
“I have that thing for the magazine in the morning,” I lie.
“I thought that was next week?” It is totally next week. Damn Caleb for actually listening to me when I talk. “Why didn’t you bring your stuff over tonight? I haven’t gotten to return the massage yet.” He smirks, and it almost makes me want to stay.
I lie again. “I forgot.”
“I’ll wake you up early. You can stop on your way.”
“I can’t. I have to clear a memory card, and that will take a little while. I need to do it tonight.” Jesus, I’m not even sure if I remember how to tell the truth anymore.