First last love

The old barn had stood abandoned on the edge of the property for as long as he could remember. It had never been used as far as he could tell. He didn’t even know why he stood inside it now, except he couldn’t stand another second inside that house.

His mother had died three days before and they’d put her in the ground this morning. The house was full of grieving people, well-wishers, and the curious busybodies who only pretended to offer condolences so they could examine another person’s grief. He’d needed to get away before he snapped.

He dusted off an old chest and sat down, resting his arms on his knees with a sigh.

He hadn’t been close to his mother growing up and the seven years of separation after he’d left once he’d turned eighteen hadn’t changed that. But still she was his mother and he’d felt he’d owed it to her to see her buried properly. He’d gotten the call a week ago while vacationing in New Zealand and come back to see to her affairs. With luck, he’d be gone again in another week and wouldn’t have to come back ever. The house he’d grown up in had never been a home, his mother’s indifference pushing him to find acceptance elsewhere.

“Harlen, what are you doing out here?”

He jumped at the question, not having heard anyone come in.

He stood and turned to the open doors, seeing Marissa come in. She’d been the only light he’d known as a child and as they’d grown up, he’d noticed her curves, her youthful face blossoming with the promise of beauty. He hadn’t let himself act on the desires that stirred but they’d always been there. She’d been the first girl he’d ever loved and he knew he always would, but she’d never looked at him in anything except friendship and she deserved better than him. If his own mother couldn’t love him, how could he expect anyone to?

“You should come back inside,” Marissa said. “People are asking where you are.”

“There’s no one in there who actually cares about where I am,” he replied. “I don’t even know anybody.”

She stepped in and offered her hand.

“Still, it’s the proper thing to do.”

She held her breath, waiting to see if he would take her hand. His dark hair was long, in need of a cut, and her fingers tingled with the urge to reach up and brush it away from his eyes. She’d always loved his eyes, remembered staring into the deep green depths for hours when they were younger. He’d never seemed to notice her though, not really, and she’d wasted years wishing for him to come back.

“I have no interest in doing what’s proper,” he said, sounding tired. She dropped her hand when he sat back on the chest. “I don’t know why I’m even here.”

She brushed off a discarded toolbox across from him and sat.

“She was your mother, Harlen.”

He snorted and looked out the open doors towards the front of the house and the yard filled with cars.

“You know probably more than anyone Marissa, she wasn’t much of a mother.”

Silence filled the barn for a moment. She studied his profile while he was turned away from her. He was so handsome, so strong and she wished, just once, that he would see her.

When he sighed and faced her again, she looked down at her nails, cheeks heating in embarrassment at being caught staring.

“When did everything get so complicated?”

The soft question surprised her and she looked at him.

“What do you mean?”

He shook his head, looking away again.

“When we were kids, life seemed so simple. Get up, go to school, come home and do your chores. During summer, play in the woods, go to the movies, the fairs, never worry about what anyone thought. Now,” he chuckled but it was bitter. “Now we have to do the right thing, make sure you don’t offend anyone, be proper.” He looked back at her. “I don’t want to be proper.”

Jeez, she was so pretty in the afternoon sun streaming through the open doors. Her blonde hair framed her face like a halo and her eyes were so blue. He’d visited the Caribbean once and her eyes were an exact match. His heart squeezed in his chest but it was a pain he’d learned to accept.

“I don’t want to be proper either,” she whispered. She stood up and walked over to stand in front of him. He looked up at her, squinting in the sun. When her hand reached out, he jerked away in surprise and she squeezed her hand into a fist. A look of hurt passed across her face and he stood up.

“Marissa?”

She turned away but not before he saw her eyes fill and he caught her shoulder. She was so slight under his hand. He hadn’t touched her in years, not since they were children, because he’d known once he did, he’d never want to let her go.

She shrugged his hand off. She didn’t want his pity, didn’t want him holding her because he felt sorry for her. She wanted him to hold her because he wanted her, loved her. What was wrong with her that he didn’t? She would do anything for him, give him everything. Didn’t he know that?

“I’m fine,” she told him and started to step away.

“No,” he gripped her arm this time and tugged. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

She took a deep breath. Did she dare tell him? He’d probably laugh at her but at least this endless wondering and wanting would be done.

Turning to face him, she allowed her eyes to travel over his face. Once she’d known every thought he’d had. Now, it was almost a stranger’s face looking back at her. She could see the boy she’d known in the shape of his eyes, their color, the scar across the bridge of his nose where she’d accidently kicked him while they were climbing trees. The boy she’d loved had grown into a man she wanted to know and there was only one way to move forward.

“We never cared about what anyone thought when we were kids,” she said, voice soft and vulnerable. She was going to do it, lay everything out and see what happened. “You practically lived at my house.”

He snorted. “That’s because there wasn’t anything I wanted at my own.”

“Quiet,” she told him and his eyes widened. “I’m talking so you can just listen.”

“Ok then.” He nodded and stepped back, reclaiming his seat on the chest.

He’d never heard her voice like this before and he had to remind himself that he didn’t know her anymore. There were so many years between their long summer afternoons and today, so much of her life that he’d missed and would never know. He’d wasted so many empty nights wishing she was with him but he’d let her talk now.

“I know it’s normal for people to grow apart as they get older,” she continued. Her heart was pounding in her chest. “You left, never looked back, and I lost my best friend. Did you ever think about me? Wonder how I was doing? What I was doing?”

She looked to him, sitting there with his hands resting on his knees, and wanted to go to him so badly. She wanted the right to touch him, to push his hair back, brush her lips across his, but she couldn’t. Not yet.

“Of course I thought about you, Marissa.” His voice was soft, too. “I thought about you all the time.”

“But you never called. You never came back.”

He sighed and stood, moving past her to lean against the open barn door.

“You were the only thing I would’ve come back for and that wasn’t fair to you.”

“Why don’t you let me decide what’s fair for me.”

Her voice snapped but she couldn’t help the frustration.

He turned back to her and she walked to him, drilling her finger into his chest for emphasis.

“You don’t get to decide what’s fair. It wasn’t fair that you left me but you did that anyways.”

His lips parted to speak.

“No,” she spoke before he could. “You left me. You never gave us a chance. I loved you for years.” She couldn’t keep the tears back and they streamed down her cheeks. “You had to know that but you left and never looked back.”

He straightened, staring at her in disbelief. She’d loved him? He stepped to her and brushed her cheeks with his thumbs, wiping her tears away. She trembled under his touch.

“I didn’t know,” he whispered. “I’m sorry for leaving, I’m sorry for not coming back, but I didn’t know. Shh” he pressed his thumb over her mouth when she went to speak. “My turn now,” he smiled down at her. “It’s not an excuse. Looks like we were both being careful not to show our feelings.”

She blinked up at him, reveling in the feel of his hands on her face.

“Your feelings?” she repeated.

“I’ve loved you,” he told her “probably since the day we first met. It was always you, but I didn’t think you cared about me like that. You never showed me any signs. I know, I know,” he said when she went to speak. “I never showed you anything either so I guess we’re both to blame.”

“You love me?” she asked, not really believing it. Not ready to believe it could be so simple.

“Marissa,” he laughed softly and pressed his forehead to hers. “There hasn’t been a day since we met that I haven’t loved you, haven’t wanted you. Even when I was too young to know what that meant.”

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into him.

“You love me,” she said in wonder.

He grinned down at her, those deep green eyes shining in the sunlight.

“I always will.”

Cupping the back of her head, he brought his mouth down to hers, kissing her for the first time. It was like coming home.