“I thought this was love, Grady,” she said, stretching an arm to touch him. Grady shrugged back to avoid the contact he craved more than breath. “You. Me. I thought this was what it was supposed to be like.”
“You were confused,” he lied. The words didn’t belong in his mouth.
“I guess I was.”
Grady felt Maren’s heart rip right in two. She attempted to hide it, tried to conceal the way his words had altered the trajectory of her dreams, but Grady saw.
And if Maren hadn’t turned around right then—hadn’t left him under that hot evening sky to wallow alone in his lies and deceit—she would’ve noticed Grady’s heart do exactly the same.
5
Maren
Spring – Age Twenty-One
The dress was too tight. Maybe that was due to the fact that it wasn’t actually hers. Maren had borrowed it from her roommate, Lauren, who was the bittiest little thing. She couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds soaking wet.
Lauren was a biochemistry major and that required a lot of time spent in the lab, so the majority of her college existence took place on campus. Maren had just declared her psychology major two years earlier, finally getting serious about where she planned to go in life and what degree she needed to get there. Even still, she was home at their apartment more often than Lauren since she could study for her classes in almost any location—most preferably, on their couch.
Sometimes, if she felt exceptionally adventurous, Maren would pack up her canvas book bag and head down to the beach where she’d find a vacant bench to occupy for the afternoon. The Golden Gate Bridge made a spectacular backdrop for studying with its rusty red towers reaching through the often overcast sky, laden with dense fog that could be felt like a heavy mist. And the people watching was top notch. When time allowed, Maren would walk the Embarcadero, shuffling up and down the crowded piers, taking in all the unique sights and smells. The city was still so new to her, even after four years. So much left to discover. It seemed like she could spend the rest of her life there and never even scratch its surface.
That night’s adventure was a new one, too. Lauren had been invited to a swanky party hosted at the parents’ house of one of her lab partners. To Maren’s surprise, she had invited her along. They never really did that. Sure, they would ask if the other needed anything when making a run to the store, or they would combine clothes for a load of laundry that needed washing down at the laundry mat, but their social activities rarely intertwined. It was a friendship forged out of necessity and Maren knew Lauren didn’t need to include her in a life that existed outside of their shared living space.
Even so, Maren was grateful for the invitation. She had promised herself that she would live her college experience to the fullest. So far, nothing about it felt all that full. She was still searching, still grasping for a life that seemed to allude her. She felt only halfway there.
And her borrowed dress felt like only half a dress.
“You look amazing! Seriously stunning, Maren. Like it was made for you.”
Lauren wore a sparkly silver halter top that dipped at the neckline so the fabric layered on itself in silky waves. She had a black pleather skirt on and high-heeled, peep-toe stilettos on her dainty feet. Her bayalage blonde hair was swept up on one side and secured with a rhinestone clip and her makeup was picture perfect, every shade carefully selected and line precisely drawn.
Maren regarded her own reflection in the full length mirror and though the borrowed black dress was beautiful with its low back and unique iridescent shimmer that made its texture change with every shift of the light, she felt out of her element. Her feet had been trained for boots, not heels, and the way she stumbled toward her roommate showcased a glaring lack of skill and dexterity.
“I feel like a bull in a china shop.” Maren’s eyes flicked down to the heels. “It will be a miracle if I don’t break something by the end of the night. With my luck, it’ll probably be one of my bones.”
“Even so, that could be a win,” Lauren said with a smile that dimpled her cheeks. “You’ve seen the pre-med guys around here. I can only imagine what the ER doctors look like in these parts.”
Maren couldn’t help but give a mini-smile back, even though she wasn’t joking about the shoes. Lauren came up and took Maren’s shoulders within her grasp. She squeezed a little, then let go and said, “Confidence, country girl. We’ll make you city savvy yet.”
All Maren could do was pray she was right. In her years in the bay area, she had found that a change in address didn’t necessitate an internal change. You could take the girl out of the country but couldn’t take the country out of the girl, or something like that. What it came down to, though, was that it would be easier to fit in here if her heart hadn’t been left somewhere else.
Which was why things hadn’t moved forward with the tall, dark, and handsome coed who stood in her doorway just fifteen minutes later with his keys in one hand and a single red rose in the other.
Kirk Thompson was pre-law, two years older than Maren, and the type of man a girl wrote home about. Or wrote a novel about. Everything about Kirk, from his impressive intellect to the way his tapered clothes fit like a glove to the way he looked at Maren like she was the only person in the room, made him the ultimate catch.
They’d met years back when they bumped into one another on campus. When Maren’s books clattered to the ground and Kirk stooped down to pick them up, their gaze connected with a twinkle that shot straight through Maren’s stomach. She felt like she was suddenly thrust into the middle of a romance flick. It was one of those instant connections. Though she tried to fight it initially, only hanging out with Kirk in large groups, the extra people eventually dwindled in number and they now spent most of their time one-on-one.
Tonight was one of those nights. Lauren rattled off the address of the party for Kirk to store in his phone and then he slipped the device into his back pocket. He appraised Maren with a soft, thoughtful look.
“Ready to go?” The way his right eyebrow always winged up when he asked a question made Maren’s insides flutter. Kirk exuded confidence. Something about that was a magnet to Maren. She had come to San Francisco to find her confidence, but she hadn’t succeeded in locating it on her own. Maybe having someone else’s rub off was the way to do it. “I’ve got us a reservation at Demure at 7:00.”
Lauren’s eyes bugged out. “That place has a two month long waiting list!”
“Not if you know the owner.” Kirk was dressed to the nines in his flat-front gray slacks and white dress shirt tucked neatly in. His tie was skinny and silver and knotted skillfully up near his throat. “My father was in a fraternity with Todd Wilkinson. My parents dine there at least once a week. You’ll die for their oysters, Maren. Buttery and so rich they slip right down your throat. Best around.”
This was the point in time where Maren should’ve told Kirk she didn’t like oysters, but his bold assertion made her think that maybe she could learn to like them. Maren was up for trying new things when it came to Kirk, mostly because he lived this exciting, large life—the one she’d only dreamed of. She felt lucky to be a part of it.