Page 79 of Chasing Wildflowers
That’s what I got when he left, a new beginning to start fresh. To live my life how I wanted. That first night, Jameson and I painted our front door in wildflowers, because that’s what I wanted for us. To enjoy our newfound freedom, to feel joy in life, and to have hope for the future; instead of just chasing after them.”
She pauses, her eyes moving around the room with fondness. “When Vic and I got engaged, we decided to move in together, but we didn’t want to start our new life together in the house that held so many awful memories. We must have looked at fifteen houses, but nothing felt right.
Not until we found this place. Vic fell in love with it right away. I wasn’t convinced, until we walked around the property, and I saw it. A field of wildflowers just beyond the trees. As soon as I saw them, I knew. This was our home.”
Tears slip from my eyes before I can stop them, not from sadness, but from the beauty of her story. Of what she survived. Of what she built. Of what she found. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
She reaches over and grabs my hand. “You’re not chasing wildflowers anymore, sweetheart. You already learned to grow your own. Now you just have to tend them.” She squeezes once before letting go and standing. “I’m going to bed. Try to get some sleep, dear. They will be home soon.”
I watch as she walks up the stairs, her words replaying in my head as her footsteps fade. She’s absolutely right. I’mnotchasing wildflowers anymore. I found my freedom and a new beginning in New Haven. The town I love. I’ve found joy in my friendship with Kam. And now I’ve found my hope for the future in Jameson.
A future I’m no longer afraid of. A future I want with everything inside me.
Although I’m sure sleep won’t come easy, I take her advice and head upstairs.
I step into my room, grabbing my phone off the nightstand, hoping to find a message from Jameson saying he’s on his way back.
My blood runs cold.
Unknown
Hello Ceciley.
He found me.
Unknown
I’m sending you an address. If you aren’t there by 3 AM I’m sending the evidence I have of Jameson killing Luke Colwell to The police.
The next message is just an address. I copy and paste it into my GPS. Forty minutes away. I glance at the clock.
1:52 a.m.
My heart slams into my ribcage like it’s trying to break free, as I fight to remain calm. There's no way he has footage. Right? Jameson and Miles would have taken care of the cameras. Wouldn’t they have?
It’s a chance I can’t take. Not when Jameson’s life is at risk.
He protected me when I didn’t even realize I was in danger. And if protecting him means walking straight into the lion's den, then so be it.
I dig through the drawer beside the bed until I find a pen and a half-used notepad. My hand shakes slightly as I quickly write Jameson a note, telling him that I love him and I’m sorry.
The small piece of paper feels like lead in my hand as I lay it on his pillow. He won’t find it until I’m already gone, after it’s too late. But at least he will be safe.
I crack the door open, careful to keep it from squeaking, and peek my head out. The hall is dark, except for the light coming from the bathroom a few doors down. Kam’s door is closed. Mama C’s too. I slip out the door silently, closing it behind me with a soft click, and tiptoe down the stairs, heart pounding in my ears.
The keys to Mama C’s SUV hang on the hook by the door. I grab them and ease the front door open, myfeet moving as soon as the door closes behind me. I wince when the engine starts, and throw it into gear, slowly easing down the long drive, keeping my headlights off until I reach the road.
Tears stream down my face, making it hard to see the road as I drive to what could very well be my end. I’m mourning the life Jameson and I will never have. I’m going to break his heart. I just pray he can forgive me. That he understands I did this because I love him and can’t imagine a world without him in it.
I pray Kam forgives me, too. That she knows how much her friendship has meant to me. How she saved me and showed me it’s okay to be true to myself. I hope she understands why I sacrificed myself to protect him.
I should be grateful for the years of freedom I had, living the life I wanted. That I got the time I did with Kam and Jameson.
But I don’t feel very grateful.
I’m fucking pissed.
How fucking dare someone take away the life I literally killed to have? The life I built with my own two hands. After years of suffering first through my mother's emotional neglect and then Byron’s abuse, I was finally happy.
