The Bedrock Trilogy Box Set

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

Patrick picked Addie up outside her dorm exactly as he had said, promptly at seven o’clock. It was a warm fall night, she recalled that the air smelled of fresh cut grass, these were things she knew she’d never forget. Seeing him standing there waiting, leaning against the stoop waiting on her, well, that was almost too much. Damn. She took a deep breath and paused, taking him in.

While she stood there mesmerized, wondering whether to run for him or head for the hills, pondering how she could keep from messing this up, Patrick looked up at her and smiled. Her heart sank; the butterflies in the pit of her stomach churned and she was certain she hadn’t felt these feelings in a very long time, if ever. So, this is what love feels like, she thought throwing up her hands, rushing down the stairs toward the future. Stopping just in front of him and c****d her head. She hadn’t planned what she might say.

Thankfully, Patrick bent down and hugged her. “You look nice,” he whispered in her ear. She pulled away first. At 6’4”, Patrick towered over her. Feeling his breath on her skin made her dizzy but it was the dimples she saw when she looked up at him that nearly did her in. I hope our children get those dimples.

“What now?” she said unable to think of anything else.

“I’m taking you to a local restaurant that I’ve heard good things about… it features fresh, local food,” he told her studying her face. How am I supposed to eat at a time like this, she thought.

“I hope that’s ok,” he said, holding the passenger door open as she climbed in.

Unable to believe her luck, she smiled, feeling incredibly grateful for chance meetings. “That’s perfect.”

* * *

As far as first dates go, theirs was flawless.

It felt different for Addison; this time she actually cared. Patrick seemed genuinely interested in her, asking questions in all the right places. She was sure of herself, he’d said, and he liked that about her.

Still Addison didn’t want to get her hopes up, so when she sensed a little hesitation on Patrick’s part, she decided to give him an out. “You know, I have to be honest —”

"I like honesty,” he said.

She looked up and swallowed. “Good. It’s just…well…I’m pretty happy with life as it is and I don’t want to mess it up. I’m not really looking to date, and I’m sure as hell not looking for anything serious. Not right now.”

Patrick picked up his wine and took a sip, his eyes never leaving hers. “That’s the best thing you could’ve said, actually.”

* * *

Although neither of them was willing to label their relationship one way or another, Addison and Patrick found themselves pretty much a couple from that first date on.

They dated smoothly for two years, becoming almost inseparable. For the most part, their relationship was ideal. They were the best of friends, and, as Jessica liked to remind her, their s*x life was “to die for.” For the first time ever, if Addison were being honest with herself, she felt loved. Patrick adored her, perhaps even more than she adored him.

Then came their senior year. It was the year that would put them to the test. Though it was never really said, Addison knew that Patrick’s family didn’t approve of her, and she suspected that this was the reason Patrick didn’t speak much of the future or specifically, of their future beyond graduation. Patrick had mentioned a few times that his parents had a girl picked out they hoped he’d marry. But that he wasn’t thinking about marriage. While she didn’t know much, she knew from the beginning that Patrick’s childhood was very different from her own. He grew up in an upscale-gated community in Dallas, Texas. His father was a doctor and his mom a housewife, who according to Patrick, mostly played tennis and planned exclusive dinner parties. He had an older sister, Jennifer, although he spoke even less about her than he did his parents. Needless to say, if Addison knew why Patrick’s parents disapproved of their relationship, she didn’t say.

But also, fair was fair. She didn’t want to talk about her family and she never felt like forcing him to talk about his. In fact, she put off telling him about her parents, or lack thereof, for as long as she possibly could, finally only telling him that her mother had died and that her grandparents had raised her. Patrick didn’t pry or ask further questions, and for that she was grateful. As time went on, she gave him pieces, brief snippets of her life growing up, but never the whole truth. That was the thing about people like Patrick and Jessica, they were idealists and Addison didn’t want to be the person to shatter those ideals.

* * *

Eventually, Patrick invited Addison to dinner with his parents when they stopped into town. Still, she hadn’t really spent any significant amount of time with them and so when Patrick informed her that his parents had invited them to their lake house for the weekend the summer before their final semester, she was ecstatic insisting that they were finally coming around. But she read otherwise in his demeanor and so she hesitated, making excuses as to why she couldn’t go. In the end, however, she gave in, knowing Jess was right when she told her that it was now or never.

The lake house, like the Greyer’s, was immaculate and formal. While the Greyer’s put on a friendly face in front of their son, Addison was otherwise given the cold shoulder. To add insult to injury, she couldn’t help but notice they went out of their way to make sure that whenever they spoke of Patrick’s future, she wasn’t included, which they did, a lot. It was clear pretty quickly why she’d been invited. They wanted to put her in her place; they wanted to let her know where things stood.

On their second night there, after an uncomfortable interrogation about her childhood and family at the dinner table, courtesy of Jenn, Patrick’s older sister, Addison and Patrick had it out. She requested they leave the following morning and accused his family of insinuating that she wasn’t good enough for him, which Patrick flat out denied. To make matters worse, Patrick was different around his family. He was quiet and distant when it came to her and yet needy and child-like in the face of his family. This made her question whether she knew him at all.

When he called her crazy, she began throwing her things into her bag. He surveyed the room. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m leaving.”

Patrick sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor. “Stay, Addison,” he sighed.

She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t stop packing.

“They’ll come around. But, I think you’re making a big deal out of nothing...”

Her face grew red and she threw her hands up. “Of course, you do. Don’t accuse me of being crazy. I know that your parents think I’m not good enough for you. I know exactly why they invited us here…”

Patrick didn’t argue. “Let’s just sleep on it, ok? We can talk about it in the morning.”

But they didn’t talk because Addison had slept on it and the next morning, she called a cab, and didn’t look back. She had spent her whole life feeling unwanted, and now that she was an adult, she had a choice in the matter.

* * *

“You know what I find interesting,” the deep voice called from the darkness. “That you thought you had a choice in the matter.”

Addison wanted to wake up, to open her eyes, to ask what he meant, but she couldn’t. She was too tired, too out of it. “Look at you,” she heard him say. “You’re filthy. No one is going to want you like this…”

The next thing she knew she felt a cool spray hit her skin. It prickled at first, but then the pressure grew. Still, she couldn’t open her eyes. She couldn't face him, even if she'd wanted to. “I hope you like water,” he said. “By the look of you, the drugs haven't worn off yet." He laughed. "This should help...”

She’d always heard drowning was a quick way to go, now she hoped it was really true.

* * *

Addison felt like she was drowning without Patrick. They went two weeks without speaking before finally running into each other in the library. Patrick apologized for the way his family treated her. He told her that he was sorry with the way that they had left things and asked her to meet him at his apartment later that evening to talk.

She didn’t agree but she didn’t tell him no, either. The truth was, she’d been a complete mess since walking out on Patrick. She couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t do anything but think of him and wonder if she’d done the right thing. Jessica tried to cheer her up by ordering takeout and renting sappy movies but none of it worked. She worried that Addison might be content just sitting around in her pajamas forever, staring into space. In a matter of a week, she had become different, lifeless. She’d only gone to the library because she had to return a book; she couldn’t afford the late fees.

Jessica walked over, flipped the TV off, and pulled the covers out from around her.

“Get up,” she ordered. “The shower is running. And you know how I hate to waste water.”

“What the hell!” Addison said, throwing her hands up. “Since when have you cared about wasting water?”

“Since right now,” Jess said tugging at Addison’s arm. “GET UP! You’ll feel better once you don’t smell so bad. Seriously. You can’t just lie here forever.”

Addison frowned as she searched for the remote. “Maybe I can.”

“You’ve missed classes, Addison. This isn’t like you.”

“Fine,” she said eventually, considering Patrick’s offer.

Once showered and dressed, she realized Jessica was right, she did feel better. Also, what could it possibly hurt going over to his place to talk things over?

* * *

It was different being in his apartment after everything. Neither of them spoke much, treading carefully, and tiptoeing around feelings like performance artists. It wasn’t just that something was different. It was that everything was different.

After dinner they sat on the sofa, Addison sipping her wine, Patrick water. Finally, when she’d had enough of the tiptoeing, when she couldn’t take it another minute, she spoke up. “Ok, Patrick. You invited me here. I’m here… so spit it out. I’m a big girl. I can take it.”

“Spit what out?”

“Whatever it is you need to say.”

Patrick turned toward her, eventually taking her hand in his. He didn’t meet her eye. “So . . . Ok . . . I . . . Um . . . I can’t do this anymore. Being apart has given me some time to think, and, well, I realized I just don’t want anything serious right now. We’re so young, Addison.”

She felt the blow in her stomach. She wanted to cry. But tears wouldn’t come. She wouldn’t let them. Instead, she put on her best poker face, careful not to give anything away. Knowing that there wasn’t anything left to say, she placed her wine on the coffee table and stood, before brushing her hands on her jeans. “Ok,” she said, looking back toward Patrick. He grabbed her wrist.

“What are you doing? That’s it? All you have to say is ok?” he asked pulling her closer.

Addison wanted to run but she also wanted to stay. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her cry and she knew she needed to make a quick getaway. It was clear that Patrick had made up his mind, and she didn’t want to make it any harder for him.

“Come on. Don’t run. Please. Let me explain.”

Addison felt like a fist was lodged in her throat. “What is there to explain?” she choked out.

Patrick kissed her forehead and then brushed her hair away from her face. Then he leaned in and hugged her so tightly she was afraid she might suffocate. Her mind raced, yet she was numb all at the same time, until it suddenly became clear to her exactly what she had to do.

“You’re right and we both know it.” She said flatly, pulling back.

Patrick reached for her hand. She looked toward the bedroom. “You don’t have to go now,” he said, smiling weakly. It was the dimples that made her do it, that’s what she’d tell Jessica.

He made love to her gently, as if she might break, as if they both might break. Afterward, he kissed her face and searched her eyes, whispering, “I love you and I’m so sorry,” over and over. It tore her apart, literally ripped her heart in two. Still, she didn’t respond; instead, she showed him everything she couldn’t say without words. When they were both sweaty and emotionally and physically depleted, Patrick curled up next to her, placing his head on her stomach. They lay there staring at the ceiling for hours, neither of them willing to break the silence. Once she was sure Patrick had fallen asleep and she was certain that he was in a deep sleep, Addison got up and silently dressed. After she gathered her things, she stood for a moment watching him sleep. Then she turned and quietly tiptoed out of his apartment and straight out of his life.

* * *

The next few months were a blur as Addison dated a flurry of men. On the inside, she was devastated. Not only had she lost her boyfriend and lover but her best friend. Her future. On the outside, however, it never showed. “I like my freedom,” she’d tell anyone who would listen. “It feels like I’m finally living.”

Thankfully, she never ran into Patrick. This wasn’t so hard considering she avoided all the places they had gone, places where she thought he might be. In the first few weeks after they split, Addison had received dozens of emails and several phone calls from him. She never answered, deleting the voicemails. It was mostly by mistake she read the first email at all. She’d been drunk, her defenses down. In the email, Patrick explained that he loved her but that his parents had threatened to cut off their financial support if he continued seeing her. He apologized, saying that he would do anything if she would just talk to him. He told her how much he missed her and their friendship. f**k him. She had enough friends. She deleted it without responding. Once, when she was out, Patrick stopped by hoping to see her. Apparently, Jess gave him a piece of her mind in such a way that Patrick finally stopped trying.

During that time, she threw herself into her schoolwork and spent all of her free time bouncing from party to party. It was only after the party that the truth would show, and usually it was Jessica who had to clean up the mess.

After about the twelfth or so guy Addison casually “dated,” she met Carter. Carter: rugby player, a typical jock. He was well-known for keeping his life commitment free and Addison wanted nothing more. They met at his fraternity’s kegger and had a one-night stand, of which she remembered very little. Afterwards, he called incessantly, but Addison wanted nothing to do with him. Her heart was broken, and she wasn’t looking to date, especially not someone like Carter. Hell, in the daylight, she didn’t even like him. But Carter was relentless and she was lonely, and before long the two of them wound up spending a lot of time together, mostly in bed. Or wherever, really. Carter was ‘Mr. Fun’ ‘Mr. Help Her Forget.’ He was gorgeous and crazy about her. Which was too bad because Addison knew she would never, could never, love him.

About three months in to “dating” Carter, they bumped into Patrick at a party. He waltzed right up to her and Carter, interrupted their conversation and introduced his date, Shelly. Some nerve.

The four of them made awkward small talk until Addison excused herself to the ladies’ room. Unbeknownst to her, Patrick followed. He pushed open the stall door and found her leaning against the wall, panting, trying to catch her breath.

She rolled her eyes and attempted to close the door, pushing against it to no avail. Patrick was stronger than she was by a long shot. “What the f**k?” she asked. “You can’t be in here.”

Not budging, Patrick glared at her, his eyes dark. “Are you happy with him?”

“Ha! How about nice to see you. How have you been? But no. This is where you want to start?”

“Addison, answer me. Are you happy?”

She crossed her arms, glaring at him before finally speaking. “What f*****g business is it of yours?”

Patrick laughed.

She stared at the floor, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. He pushed his way further into the stall, locking the door behind him. For a moment they just stood there staring at one another, and before Addison could say anything, Patrick grabbed both sides of her face and fell into her, kissing her deeply. He tasted like beer and peppermint and regret. Soon, hands were everywhere. Patrick pushed her skirt up, lifting her slightly, forcing her back up against the wall as he slammed into her. They were drunk and it was sloppy when he pushed into her hard and fast. She dug her nails into his back, which only made him push harder. When he was finished, he slowly pulled away.

Breathless, he bent down and kissed the top of her head. “f**k, Addison. I’ve missed you so much.”

She smoothed her skirt, trying to gain composure. She refused to let herself get hurt again. “Look, this . . .this was a mistake.”

Patrick searched her eyes. “Are you drunk?”

She lied. “No. Why?”

“Let’s go.”

“Go? Where?”

Patrick unlocked the stall. “Out of here.”

She stepped out as Patrick grabbed her by the arm. “We need to go out the back way. I don’t want to deal with Carter.”

She frowned, rubbing her arm. “What about Shelly?”

“Who?” he asked with a chuckle.

She punched his forearm. “Your date, asshole.”

Patrick took her by the hand, intertwining her fingers in his, and ushered her toward the exit. “Oh her. She’ll be fine.”

* * *

The next morning, Addison woke up alone in Patrick’s bed, angry with herself. The sharp pain of regret hit her right in the solar plexus. After all she had been through only to wind up back here.

She checked her phone. Six missed calls and two voicemails, all from Carter. s**t.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Patrick called, pushing the bedroom door open with his foot, interrupting her thoughts in the process. “Coffee?” he asked, thrusting a tray in her direction. He sat down beside her.

“Thanks,” she said, sliding upwards into a sitting position, taking the cup from his hands.

As she lifted the mug to her lips, Addison noticed something in Patrick’s face change: a thought, a look, something she couldn’t place. She took another sip of her coffee as he slid off the bed slowly.

She picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite before realizing what it was he was doing.

Seeing him there, kneeling on one knee, holding the little blue box caused Addison to choke. She tried taking another sip of coffee. Finally, clearing her throat, she laughed and waved him off, but Patrick didn’t budge.

“Addison, will you marry me?”

She blinked to make sure she was seeing what she was seeing and then pinched herself for good measure.

Patrick pinched her, too.

“Ouch.”

“You’re awake,” he said smiling. “And— I asked you a question.”

Her hands flew to her mouth then. “You’re serious?”

“Of course, I’m serious. I was dumb enough to lose you once and I’m sorry for that. But I’m smart enough to know that I don’t want it to ever happen again. So… what do you say? Will you marry me?”

So many things ran through her mind in that moment: the how, when, and where, but most of all, the what-ifs. Still, she knew she couldn’t let him go, not again. He loved her, he wanted her, and that was everything.

“Yes,” she replied as hot tears spilled out, stinging her cheeks. “I’ll marry you.” The rest they would figure out. They had to.