"Always," I whisper back.
CHAPTER 1
FIVE YEARS LATER…
PENNY
FIVE YEARS AGO I had my life mapped out even if it wasn't exactly the plan I wanted. I was going to finish college, get my degree and then come home to Alabama and marry Colton James Crawford. But somewhere along the way, my train, which was on a one-way trip to happily ever after, somehow got derailed. And my life as it is now is not how I would have ever pictured it.
I graduated college with a Bachelor's Degree in Political Science much to the delight of my parents. Then, as per the plan, I went on to do a graduate internship with theNew York State Assembly. What my parents don't know is that I dropped out of the internship after a few months and enrolled in a baking and pastry arts program at a culinary arts school. I realized pretty early on that I was going to college solely to please my parents, and I wasn't doing what I felt was right for me. I was following in my parents' footsteps in an attempt to live outtheirdream and to makethemhappy.
Thinking back on it, I don't know when it started not mattering what I want. Sadly, I think it all began in my childhood. It was instilled upon me at an early age that I would be expected to go to the same college as my father, get the same degree and choose the same life path as he did. But what about whatIwanted? What about my hopes and my dreams?
After finally realizing I need to do what makes me happy, I now have two accomplishments under my belt --- one for the career my parents want for me and one that I want for myself.
I never returned to Alabama in those five years, focusing solely on working and studying hard. But it wasn't just school that kept me away, unfortunately. It was Colton James Crawford.
The first few semesters of college went great. Colton and I called, texted and emailed each other just like we had agreed to do before I left. We just weren't able to visit each other because of the price of the airline tickets, but we were both trying to save up money to make that happen. Colt was helping his dad with the bar and wrangling up as much extra cash as he could. He promised to be there for Christmas. We planned on spending the holiday together in New York, just the two of us.
And then all of a sudden, his calls, texts and emails just stopped. I tried calling him, but the number was disconnected. After reaching out to my parents, my mom broke the news that Colton had moved on, found someone new. To say I was devastated would be the understatement of the year. I spent days in bed sobbing over the heartbreak. And then, after the first week or so, I picked myself back up and threw myself into a routine of studying hard and getting the best possible grades I could get. I graduated early with honors, the highest in the class. I should have been happy at such an accomplishment, but I had never been more miserable in my life.
In the span of a few months, I had lost my best friend, my true love and my confidant with no plausible explanation other thanhe had found someone else. I had secluded myself so much in my schoolwork that I hadn't made a single friend while in New York. I even think my roommate secretly hated me, but that was probably because I cried at the drop of a hat, like when a sad song played on the radio…or any song, for that matter.
When I finished up my culinary arts certification after ditching the political science route, I was at a crossroads. I was attempting to figure out what to do with my life, but there was one thing that kept stopping me like an immovable roadblock --- Colton James Crawford. Suddenly, I decided to come back home to Alabama and demand answers. I wanted to know how Colton could throw away almost a lifetime of love, trust and total devotion forsome random girl. Even more than that, I wanted him to know how much he devastated my life in the process. I'm still broken, still hurt. And only he can make things right again.
I need closure.
My fingers tap nervously against my jean-clad legs. It's been five years since I've seen Colton, and I'm trying to steel my nerves before I walk in for our long-awaited reunion. I have so many questions swirling around in my head. I still to this day don't have the answers I'm looking for, and I'm determined to get them tonight. He owes me an explanation, if nothing else.
My trembling hand reaches for the doorknob. It's now or never. It's time to learn the truth.
I slowly open the door and enter the bar. The place looks pretty much the same as it always did. It's a large open room with dark wood paneling and fishing memorabilia on every wall. Colton's dad loved to fish, and he taught both of his sons, and even me, at an early age his favorite pastime. There's a large horseshoe bar to the left with a doorway behind it that leads to a big storage area in the back with an office.
The bar is not crowded for a Friday night, which is very unusual. I remember when Crawford's Bar wastheplace to be on the weekend --- hell, even every day during the week. Colton's dad ran the bar smoothly, bringing in customers and making money hand over fist. However, tonight, I'm thankful for the lack of a big crowd, because I am able to spot Colton sitting at the bar right away.
Feeling all the anger and sorrow reaching a boiling point and threatening to spill over, I quickly clench my hands into fists at my sides and storm to the bar. My steps slow as I approach him, and my emotions begin to fade as I stop a few feet away from him. His back is to me, and for a brief moment I'm not sure if this is really the Colton I left behind five years ago. The boy I had left back home morphed into aman.
I take in all of his features from a distance. His muscular forearms are straining against the fabric of his t-shirt, and my mouth involuntarily falls open as I take in his new physique. Colton had always been wiry and lean, but now he's broad and buff. My eyes quickly skim over the tribal tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve on his right arm and wrapping the whole way down his forearm and wrist. Colton had never expressed a desire to get tattoos when we were together. In fact, he pretty much despised them.
I notice movement on the other end of the bar, and I see Buddy Lawson bartending. His eyes widen when he sees me, and then his gaze shifts nervously between Colton and me. Buddy and Colton were always close, and all three of us spent a lot of time together when we were younger. We were practically inseparable.
I give Buddy a puzzled look before turning my attention back to Colton. His brown eyes are glued to the television high above the bar, and he looks mad or troubled or somewhere in between. I suddenly want to make his night better, and I hope he's happy to see me at least. After everything we've been through, I want to be his friend, if nothing more. But, oh, how I want more. I want things the way they used to be before we let each other go…even if I am mad as hell at him.
"Colton," I say, and his name sounds foreign on my tongue. For so long I had refused to say his name and desperately tried not to think about him over the years, but those efforts proved to be futile. I couldn'tnotthink about Colton. He was always part of me --- body and soul.
Colton turns to me, and the pissed off expression on his face doesn't fade or get any better. "Yeah?" he answers coolly.
"Hi," I say nervously, biting my lower lip. My fingers knot into themselves as I stand there like an idiot, wondering what I'm supposed to say to the guy who broke my heart and dumped me five years ago. "How…How are you?" I ask, testing the waters.
He shrugs nonchalantly and says, "Fine", before turning his attention back to the game on the television.
Perplexed by his reaction and starting to feel downright pissed off again, I tap on his shoulder until he slowly turns his attention back to me. "Do I know you?" he asks, arching a brow in confusion.
I glance to the bottle of beer in his hand. "How much have you had to drink tonight?" I ask quickly. That can be the only explanation for his aloof demeanor. Even though my hair is a little blonder and a little longer, I haven't changed much over the past few years. He's acting like I'm a completely different person, like he doesn't recognize me at all.
"Are you a cop or something? What business is it of yours?" he asks, visibly annoyed. He regards me with an intensity that makes my heart beat in double time.
Clearly he's obliterated, and I try to take note of his actions and voice. Are his words slurred? I don't think so. His eyes aren't bloodshot either. Maybe he's just really good at hiding it. Maybe he's become somewhat of a heavy drinker since I've been gone.
