Perfect for Me by Claudia Burgoa

Chapter Eleven

Hazel

Memories are timeless treasures of the heart. —Anonymous

It tookme an entire week to gather enough strength to drive to Santa Cruz. That and we had a lot of work. Handling the two companies, plus auditing Waterfront is more than we imagined. Scott stayed during the weekend so we could finish restructuring the management company.

“Are you ready?” Scott kisses my temple.

No, I’m not ready. My heart is withering as I realize how much time has passed since I was here last. The area has a different feel. Almost every house on the block has changed. I barely recognized the McFee’s house. Instead of the old green panels, the outside has a nice stucco finish. Both houses remind me of everything I’ve missed. It’s hard to realize that the world continued spinning in Santa Cruz too.

“Needs a lot of work,” he says, wiggling the handle and pushing the door open.

My pulse quickens. I close my eyes for a few beats before I enter my old house. My stomach hurts as the dreadful days when my parents left us behind for months become fresh memories. He takes my hand as I walk through the house, squeezing it, and grounding me. It only takes one gesture to get over the shortness of breath. The sadness lingers inside my heart. I tilt my head, finding his eyes. And it’s there, the reassurance that even if it’s too scary, he’s right beside me.

We walk down the hall toward the bedrooms. My parents’ room is right in front of me. I never opened this door, afraid that when Mom came back, she’d notice I was in there.

“She used to be in her room all the time,” I say, staring at the closed door at the end of the hallway.

“Willow?” Scott frowns.

“No, Mom,” I admit, staring at the floor. “She barely left her room. And when she did, we didn’t know what to expect. She’d be crying, yelling, or laughing, making no sense. We weren’t allowed to go in there, though.”

“I’m sorry, Bee.” He squeezes my hand. “For everything that happened with them.”

“Sometimes, I wonder why Dad didn’t help her.” I lean against the filthy couch, wondering what I should do with the furniture. “He never answered my questions.”

When I discovered my mother had an undiagnosed and unattended mental illness, I made my peace with her and her actions. Willow and I think Mom had borderline personality disorder, like my sister.

“My father always chose my mother above everyone in the world. Even his children,” I say out loud. “I bet he discovered that traveling soothed her. That it was some kind of medication or therapy.”

“They could’ve handled everything differently,” Scott says, his jaw clenching.

He’s not a fan of my father. None of the Everhart brothers are.

“I get it. Personally, traveling helps me gain perspective and liberates my mind.”

“But when they took off, he never thought about the little ones he left behind.” Scott’s gaze is soft, tender. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me against his strong body.

I bite my lip because once Willow and I discovered that Mom needed help, we tried to persuade her to come back to us. Mom and Dad were in Costa Rica when she jumped off a balcony.

“Dad will always blame me for what happened to her. He insists that my idea to get her help was what drove her to her grave.”

“But you know better,” Scott groans. “Let’s check the house, see what we can do with it.”

Dad’s accusations are unfounded, but they still sting. I take a deep breath and open the door to their room. There is only a bed and some clothes hanging in the closet. There are no pictures, furniture, or anything special.

I shake my head. “He was never coming back,” I mumble, swallowing the golf-ball-sized lump stuck in my throat. For a few seconds, I wish I could hate them as easily as Willow does.

“I wish he had chosen me,” I say, snapping myself from my crappy mood.

“My parents’ chapter closed once he signed the deed of this house.”

I hold the tears at bay. “I’m an adult, but I still wanted Dad to pick us.”

“Look forward,” Scott says, bringing my attention back to him. “We could call HGTV and have a show. Something like, Abandoned Houses: Dusty Edition.”

I snort, looking at the flaking paint. The old furniture is dirty. The entire house is filled with dust, filth, and smells like rotten trash. “Stop watching reality TV.” I glare at him.

“You should tear it down and rebuild.” Scott releases my hand, moving toward the walls.

“Or just restore it,” I insist.

Staring at my old bedroom door, I try to control my heart. It’s beating fast at the thought of tearing this place down.

My eyes settle on my feet for a few seconds as I bite my lip while trying to process his, “I’d destroy it,” assessment.

“Tear it down?” I repeat, my voice barely a whisper.

His soft gaze finds mine, and he smiles. “That’s an option. The foundation might be solid.” He walks toward the kitchen. “I think you can do either. What would you want to do?”

I follow right behind him.

“Of course, your backyard is a beach.”

“What?” I run to the kitchen, trying to understand what he’s talking about, but he’s already on his way to the back door.

“Scott!”

The backyard is a complete mess. The trees are either dead or overgrown. There are branches all over the sand, and if my mother were alive, she’d be complaining that her flowers had died.

Then I turn to the house that harbored me when I was younger. The place where I met the most beautiful boy. Elliot, who promised always to choose me. And just as I wonder about his current life, he’s making his way toward me.

“Hazel,” Elliot greets me.

Scott mumbles something under his breath. He angles his head down and walks back toward the house.

“I’ll be inside,” Scott groans, glaring at Elliot.

These two shouldn’t share the same space—ever. I move my gaze toward the ocean. The place where we shared everything. I remember part of our daily routine. Early in the morning, we met at the edge of the sea with our surfboards and caught the waves. When his mother called us, we’d go back home and get ready for school. Unless it was a weekend. Then we spent a couple of hours surfing.

What we had was precious, beautiful. But we broke it into a billion pieces. And we both deserve to close the chapter on a happy note. I clutch my arms to my chest, pressing my lips together and taking a deep breath.

“Hi. Do you live here?”

“Nah.” He chuckles. “I came to visit Mom. While I was in the kitchen, I saw some movement over here and came to check.”

He tilts his head toward my house. “Are you planning on selling it?”

Twisting my lips, I shake my head. “No. I can’t see myself parting from it. At least not yet.”

He crosses his arms, and says, “Is it too soon to ask about the contract?”

I deflate. We haven’t decided yet.

“I’m hoping to have an answer soon,” I respond. “Though…” I trace circles in the sand with my foot and finally lift my gaze. “Look, I’m not sure who we’ll hire to work on the projects, but I want to clear the air.”

“What air?”

“Between us. Things ended pretty bad.” I lift my chin, looking at the blue sky. “I blamed you, but I never took responsibility for my actions. I should’ve listened to you and closed the chapter instead of leaving things up in the air for years.”

His brows draw closer. He stuffs his hands inside his pockets and stares at the floor. “Why did you? You left me in limbo for a long time.”

I bite my cheek. My left foot drawing b’s in the sand. “Because you had moved on without me. I didn’t want to hear that I wasn’t enough. That you had found someone much better than me.”

A chuckle escapes me. “Now that I say it out loud, it sounds childish.” I stare at my feet for a few seconds. “In my defense, I was barely twenty-one. A child.”

He rolls his eyes, and I laugh.

“Honestly,” I continue. “I’m glad you’re happy and moved on with your life.”

“Thank you?” he huffs, touching the base of his neck. “Just to clarify. My explanation didn’t include you not being enough or having someone else. You were my everything, Hazel.”

“It didn’t feel that way,” I disclose. “Not when I caught you dancing almost naked with a bunch of women touching you.”

“It wasn’t what it looked like,” he says as if my mind had played tricks with me.

I arched an eyebrow, waiting for another shitty excuse. This time, I don’t yell. “It’s over. There’s no point in rehashing the story, Elliot.”

“Is it over?” His question is simple, yet it carries so much weight.

I breathe, plopping myself on the sand. Looking around the backyard where we shared playdates, kisses, and fooled around when we became older.

“When did life get so complicated?” I rest my forehead on my knees and close my eyes, listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.

“It happens when you claim your independence and think you’re too old to be under the care of your parents,” he responds. “It changes for everyone. For me, it happened when Dad died.”

I rock myself back and forth, thinking about his answer. “Maybe that’s why Willow and I were so confused while growing up.” I laugh hard, releasing my legs and burying my hands in the sand. “Our parents assumed we were independent since…we were too young.”

That’s why when my grandfather had offered me a job and paid tuition, I accepted it immediately. Elliot needed my help, and I needed an education. So leaving for four years to get an education while I sent money to help him was a brilliant move. Plus, I got to meet my estranged grandfather.

Mine wasn’t the life of every college student. I didn’t have time to party or join a sorority because I convinced my grandfather that I could work on the weekends. I took the train every Sunday night, traveling from New York City to Raleigh. Classes began early on Monday. I left Thursday night. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday morning were dedicated to working for Grandpa.

I bury my fingers in the sand, lifting them and watching it fade away, only leaving a film of dust. Just like the promises Elliot and I made to each other. Some of the memories of what we said remain, but everything else blew away after we broke up. Maybe our ending was more than one event. We grew apart while trying to save everyone we loved.

“Hazel, can you do me a favor?” Elliot’s request brings me back from our past.

“A favor?” I look up at him.

You’re out of those, buddy!

“What kind of favor?”

He squats right next to me so we’re eye to eye. His callused fingers lift my chin. “While you’re in town, give me a chance to show you I’m not the guy you left behind.”

I hold my breath, staring at those eyes that used to be my haven. “Why do I want to get to know this guy, Elliot?”

“Because we’re soul mates,” he responds. “Two people who were meant to become one since before they appeared on this earth.”

“Those are my lines,” I remind him, moving away from his hold and rising from my seat.

“Well, remember who we were and our future. I need you by my side, Hazel.” He straightens himself and dusts the excess sand from his pants. “My life without you makes no sense. What am I supposed to do?”

My mouth slacks as he asks me to think about our future. The truth hits me. That’s all I ever do. Think about everyone’s future. I’ve been trying to save and help everyone find their future. Because I’ve been avoiding mine.

“I’ll think about it,” I nod at Elliot in response, pivoting and heading back to my house.

“Hazel Bee,” he calls out. “I never meant to hurt you.”

I bite my cheek, swallowing hard and turning back. “It was a dark time.” I hitch my thumb, pointing at his mother’s house. “With age, I understood part of what happened. They needed you.”

Scott and Harrison did, too, care for their family and resign to their lives. They both stepped into the role of parents. Their kid brothers became their full responsibility.

I wave at Elliot. “Take care, Eli.”

When I close the backyard door, the memories of the last day in the house come crashing in like the waves against the shore.

I waved at Elliot one last time and closed the kitchen door. Watching him from the window, I saw him blowing a kiss in my direction. I flicked the switch twice, so he knew I was sending him one right back. Why did he have to leave? My wish of staying outside all night reading and enjoying his company vanished. I wanted to sleep nestled in his arms. One last night before I left for New York.

I wanted to tell him to stay. That tonight I needed him. But I hated sounding needy. My vision blurred with tears pouring down my face. It was hard to think about my future without him by my side. I wouldn’t see him for several years. I couldn’t fathom life without Elliot. He was the constant in my life.

“My husband,” I sighed, staring at the rings on my left hand.

Butterflies fluttered inside my belly as I pictured our life together. In only a few years, we’d have our own home. He’d go on to build skyscrapers, and I’d figure out my future. If I didn’t get it right the first time, I could try to find my vocation after we had children. My sister thought I was crazy, that I shouldn’t be doing permanent shit when I wasn’t even legal to drink. Even a tattoo would be a mistake at my age.

My heart stopped as the fear of losing him rose. It’s always been easy for everyone to leave me behind. At least it was easy for my parents and my sister. I didn’t understand them, why could they leave me like that?

We shared everything.

We were an extension of each other.

We were the exception to all the rules.

I worried the next chapter might not work out.

What if, when I came back, I wasn’t welcome?

What if I lost him?

My heart hurt as the panic over my imminent departure took over my thoughts. Staying calm was tough. Taking my copy of Pride and Prejudice off the shelf, I heard the doorbell ring. But I didn’t move. No one I knew would be visiting so late at night.

“Hazel, open the door,” Elliot’s voice came from the other side with a round of loud knocks on my door. “Bee, I know you’re awake.”

I used one of my T-shirts to wipe the tears, hoping he wouldn’t notice I had been crying—more like bawling like a little girl without her parents—because they were never around. A child who was afraid to grow up, afraid to lose the only person who loved her.

“Yeah?” I cracked it open.

“Do you need help packing? You don’t have to do this alone.” he asked, lifting his hand and clearing my cheek. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m going to miss you and my house,” I cried harder. “What if you’re not here when I’m back?”

He cups my face, pressing his lips to mine lightly. “We said forever. Our love is endless.”

“Yeah, but…”

“I’m always here for you.”

“Even my parents left me.” They put other people before me. What made Elliot different from them?

“No matter what, Haze, I’ll always be right beside you. I swear,” Elliot promised, taking me into his arms. And I believed him. “You’ll be back soon.”

It’s only a few years, I promised myself as I cried into his arms. Afraid of losing my past and scared of the unknown future.

“I’ll be waiting for you.” He kissed me deeply, and his hands caressed my body while his soul soothed mine.

“Maybe I’ll buy this house from your parents. We’ll use it on the weekends.”

That’s the magic of our love, knowing what to say to each other. “I love you, Elliot McFee.”

“Ditto, Bee.” I kissed his chin, leaning my head on his chest.

I closed my eyes imagining our future together.

I rub my chest,soothing the poor girl who lost so much. She’s in the past. I don’t need anyone’s approval. But talking to Elliot was the first step toward closure. When I arrive at the house, Scott is in my bedroom staring at the empty bookcases. He admires my small collection of books. He jokes that when I’m old, my entire home will become one big library.

What can I say?

I’ve always loved books. Reading is my escape into another world.

“If they weren’t so deteriorated, I’d take them to my apartment,” I say, running my index finger along the old wood. “My books arrived today.”

He turns around, arching an eyebrow. “You shipped them?”

“Why would I leave them behind?” I walk around the room, then make my way back toward the hallway. “They’re my mind’s shelter.”

“Have you thought about the house?” He walks behind me. “If you’d like, I’ll take charge of the renovations, and we can discuss what you want to do with it later.”

“It’s hard to decide.” I stop, turn around, and look at him.

“I might want to put everything together just the way it was. The way it used to be.”

“So that’s what you want?” His voice is angry and defeated. “For everything to be the way it used to be?”

I lift my chin, staring at his beautiful aqua-green eyes that remind me so much of the Caribbean waters.

“Are we talking about the house or me?”

“You tell me.” He runs a hand through his hair.

The sadness is pushing me into a dark vortex. I have so many questions, and I have this crazy thought maybe the answers to it might be somewhere around this house.

“Honestly, I think I should be the one fixing the house. I need time to find the right way to do this.”

I stop in the middle of the living room and close my eyes, trying to remember that happy girl who jumped around the house and surfed by the ocean without an ounce of worry on her shoulders.

“Once upon a time, I was happy here,” I say, opening my eyes. He pulls his phone out, taps it, and shows me a picture of myself. “I’ve seen you happy. I’m sure it’s a different kind of happy from what you experienced years ago. What happened to ‘always moving forward’?”

I frown at him, then at the image of that Hazel. She was happy because he was a different Scott. I open my mouth but close it tight because I have no idea what to tell him. Was he happy with me?

We stare at each other.

“You’re drowning,” he states. “It’s the darkness. I see it, taking over you.”

He lifts his hand to caress my jaw slowly. He runs it to my ear and down my arm, grabbing my hand. “You’re fighting to stay strong, but wouldn’t it be easier if you let me help you?”

“It’s something I have to do by myself,” I tell him, trying to claim my hand, but he doesn’t let me. “It’s an ongoing battle. That’s why I chose to move.”

The words I produce surprise me. It’s like I finally see things clearly. “I’m not blaming you for what’s happening.” I swallow hard and continue. “Depression is a permanent fixture in my life. I’m trying to keep it under control, but there’s a big wave crashing against my chest that I can’t fight as easily. It arrived right after we ended things. Dad said his final goodbye. I tried to ask the impossible of you, and…”

I shrug, moving away from him, then turning back. “We ended things.”

“Fuck.” He scrubs his face. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Hey, this isn’t on you, okay,” I press the obvious. He has nothing to do with my depression. “Everything I’m doing is to get better. The best way for me to battle it is by looking toward the future. Hence, I wanted something more from you. A serious relationship with you. Even when I knew it wouldn’t go too far.”

“Hazel, but we—”

I lift my arm, showing him my open palm to stop him, as I shake my head. “Please, don’t say anything right now. Whatever you tell me might confuse me and sink me deeper into a hole. I’m a little lost, Scott. Everyone is moving forward—except me.”

“I wish we had talked before you moved,” he expresses, his shoulders hunching. “I don’t know why I feel like every day that passes I’m losing another piece of your heart.”

“You can’t say you’re losing me when we weren’t together,” I say, looking at him. “For now, I have to find myself.”

He swallows hard, nodding twice. “I get it, and I’ll remain here, beside you.”

Every muscle in my body relaxes as he tells me he’s planning on being by my side. Even if I have nothing to offer him.