Garden of Goodbyes Read online

  Table of Contents

  Garden of Goodbyes

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  A Note from the Author

  About the Author

  Books by Faith Andrews

  Acknowledgements

  Garden of Goodbyes

  Copyright © 2017 by Faith Andrews

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Except the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles and lyrics contained in the book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  Cover designed by:

  Marisa Shor, Cover Me Darling

  Interior design and formatting by:

  Christine Borgford, Type A Formatting

  Contents

  Garden of Goodbyes

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  A Note from the Author

  About the Author

  Books by Faith Andrews

  Acknowledgements

  To anyone who’s ever wanted to rock the boat or color outside the lines. Do what’s in your heart, listen to your gut, and own it because the reward is always worth the risk.

  Present

  “I NEED YOUR HELP.”

  Four words. Words I never imagined saying to anyone, let alone her. But it was desperation in its most delicate form. It was a heart-wrenching, breath-stealing, crippling truth I hadn’t wanted to admit but was forced to face. We were at the lowest of our low—well, Lennox was—and she was the only person I could call on. The one person who might break through to him. Lord knew that person wasn’t me, so with a tiny shred of broken and mangled hope, I prayed this would work. It has to. We’d surpassed the end of our unraveled rope.

  “Who is this?” As if this wasn’t hard enough, that was a sharp stab in the chest. Had she really forgotten about us? Buried the memories so deep below her hurt? I certainly hadn’t. I never would. Shit like that didn’t disappear; it lingered and haunted you until the day you died. Or until you were granted forgiveness, whichever came first.

  Summoning whatever dignity I could, I confessed, “It’s me. It’s Violet. Lennox is in bad shape. I didn't know who else to call.” That was the understatement of all understatements. This was killing me. In so many ways.

  The phone stuck to my ear with deafening silence bleeding through from the other end. Funny how silence could bring comfort at certain times and torment in others. Would she really shun us and pour salt in the wound?

  “Hello? Are you there?” My voice was laced with agony. She had to recognize this. There was a time when she could tell what I was thinking just by being in the same room. There was a time when she was my everything. Now we were nothing to each other—strangers—and it was all my fault.

  After a lingering exhalation of air—the first sign that she was actually still on the line—she finally spoke. “Yes, I’m here.” There was nothing telling in her tone. Stoic. Not the Eden I remembered. This was the Eden she’d become. Because of us.

  More unrelenting silence. I could tell this wouldn’t be easy. Not that I imagined it ever would be. But humiliation and disgrace aside, she was our last resort. She once held the answer to any question, no matter how insignificant or grand; I prayed that now was one of those times.

  “Eden, please. If you won’t do this for me, do it for Lennox.”

  Present

  LENNOX. NOW THERE WAS A name I never thought I’d hear again. Regardless of the fact it was tattooed near my heart. Lennox was a dirty word and the only word filthier was Violet.

  Hearing her voice stole the breath from my lungs. And hearing his name pulled all gravity from underneath my feet. What did she want? How could she have the audacity to call after all this time? Hadn’t I been through enough? Hadn’t we all? It was easier to imagine they were dead. That’s how I coped—if that’s what you wanted to call it.

  I was so dumbstruck by the phone call I had to lie and pretend I didn’t know it was her. “Who is this?” I knew. Did she know I knew? I hoped she did. Maybe that made me evil, but too fucking bad. We either turned our pain into strength or let it rule our every waking breath. I wore my pain like a hardened shell, a suit of armor. Oh, well. My life, my heart, my rules.

  “Eden, please. If you won’t do this for me, do it for Lennox.” She sounded desperate. Pull out all the stops, V. Go ahead, dig the knife deeper. She’d always been good at that. And while I didn’t want to fall into old habits, Violet was as much of a weakness as Lennox once was. Still is, I reminded myself.

  My heart traitorously galloped in my chest at the thought of either of them in trouble; especially if it was a destruction only I could protect them from. But three years wasn’t long enough to erase the pain. I was sure an eternity wouldn’t be, either. Betrayal was fucked up like that. It left the kind of scars on your soul that were so deep and permanent they were a constant reminder of the battle you endured.

  “What do you want from me, Violet? Why now?” I pushed the lump of bile down my throat, mentally commanding my unshed tears not to go any further than pricking the corners of my eyes. I would not cry over them. No more. Never again. I’d already wasted far too many tears on their undeserving hearts.

  “You think this is easy for me? You think it’s not the most humiliating thing I’ve ever had to do? Crawl to you, of all people?” It was a pathetic yet powerful bark.

  You, of all people. As if I was the monster in this nightmare. “Don’t you dare.” Rage replaced my threatening tears.

  “I’m sorry,” she added quickl
y. “I didn’t mean to—”

  Oh, but she did. She meant every hurtful, despicable thing she did to destroy me. Her sorrys meant shit to me. Not that she ever truly apologized.

  I was one second away from hanging up. Anyone else in my position would have. But that tiny, empty part of my heart that still beat for them begged me to hear her out. “Cut to it, V. What kind of trouble has that asshole gotten into now? How can I possibly help either of you when you’re already so fucking lost?”

  A sob wracked through her. It was not only audible through the poor telephone connection, but I felt it radiate off her, even across the long, unending distance. Like old times. Connected by invisible ties. It hurt to feel anything toward her at all, and what came out of her mouth next debilitated me in ways I couldn’t have expected.

  “He’s going to die. This time there’s no turning back, Eden. I can’t break through, but I know you can.”

  Past

  “I’M GONNA MARRY YOU ONE day, Edie. Make you mine forever.”

  My heart couldn’t take it when he said things like that. Not because I didn’t believe him, but because I did.

  We were only seventeen with a lifetime ahead of us. We still had to finish high school, then college, and it was almost impossible to imagine that Lennox would stick with me when he was off chasing his dream to become the next NFL superstar. He was destined for that, not for me—a small town nobody who lucked out by occupying the heart of Lennox Dean for the last two years. Luck—I usually had none unless it was bad, but that all seemed to change the day Lennox set his sights on me. He made me the best me I could be, despite the hand I’d been dealt, regardless of my demons, notwithstanding how undeserving of his affections I felt.

  It took time to fall into the role of the quarterback’s girlfriend, but what everyone was too shallow to understand was that I didn’t care about being popular or who liked me. I only cared that he did.

  And oh, did he. It was Lennox who taught me about unconditional, selfless love. It was he who injected new life into me when I was certain mine was headed nowhere. And because of that, I believed with the essence of my existence that he would follow through and marry me. If I let him.

  But waiting for that day to come felt like a cruel punishment. When you’re as young as we were, anything in the far-off future seemed unreachable. Like a distant, undiscovered planet, light years away.

  I often dreamed of the day we’d be ready to make that promise to each other. The day when we could stop worrying about doing the right thing and simply love each other without limitations. Daydreaming about following him on the road and getting out of here became my number one hobby, especially on days when we had a few peaceful moments to ourselves at his house, in his room, or in the shady nooks of the football field, like where we met up today.

  “Come on, Lennox. Stop fooling around. You need to study.” I pushed his face out of my neck, unwillingly of course, and tapped my notebook.

  “I am studying,” he joked, his green eyes hooded by lust-heavy lids. “I’m committing your delicious scent to memory.” He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. His head fell back and in that moment I felt his love the way I always did when he was near.

  Too bad I had to be the killjoy, as he often liked to call me. “I’m serious! You have to pass this test. You heard what Coach said, didn’t you?”

  “Obviously. I’m the one who told you.” Frustration marred his rugged features, his tight jaw thickening. “You’re no fun, even if you are gorgeous, Edie.” And just like that I was forgiven for being the voice of reason. One of us had to be if we ever wanted to get out of here and live our dreams.

  Present

  I PACKED A BAG SO quickly, I wasn’t even sure what I threw in there. I didn’t plan on staying long so it didn’t really matter. Clean underwear, a toothbrush, that’s all she wrote. What more did I need to face those two and live to tell about it. Scotch, whiskey, lots and lots of tequila.

  The thought of drowning my sorrows that way should’ve been funny, but it wasn’t. Why? Because I didn’t drink. Never had, never would. Alcohol was the devil, a stepping stone to so much more, the reason the men in my life had fucked me over and left me broken and alone. First my father, then Lennox. It was a miracle I wasn’t a walking man-hating activist.

  There were roughly two point five billion men in the world. I couldn’t mirror them all based on Lennox Dean and William Hayward. They weren’t all monsters. There had to be someone out there who didn’t need the crutch of a stiff drink to cope with life. Hell, life was supposed to be a blessing, not a curse. I was sure there was one person who could make me believe that again. I just hadn’t found him yet, and I sure as hell wouldn’t find anything of the sort when I went back home to deal with Lennox and Violet.

  But out of obligation and the desperation in her voice, I would go. Return from whence I came. From the hurt, and the disappointment, and the humiliation of it all. I wondered if she knew the sacrifice I was making by taking this step. Did she even care that my doing this was the equivalent of her getting sober? To giving up the safety and security of being numbed by crack, coke, or whatever the fuck she was into these days, just to do the right thing.

  The right thing. I always did the right thing. And look where it landed me. Sucker. You’re a fucking sucker, Eden.

  I ignored the voice that sounded so much like the bitter one belonging to my witch of a grandmother, Agnes, and tried to disregard the warring emotions coursing through me.

  I’d do the right thing one more time. If I didn’t, it would eat at me. And if something happened to Lennox, the man I once loved enough to risk it all, I could never forgive myself.

  Present

  “WAKE THE FUCK UP, LENNOX!” I nudged his limp body only to get an incoherent grumble out of him. What else is new?

  It was probably better he slept this bender off because once he found out I called her he’d be furious. Or will he? I wasn’t sure which I was more terrified of. Him being mad at me for reaching out to Eden, or him needing her. A dark, hidden part of my soul, untouched by everything I’d been jaded by in the past, knew it was the latter.

  The truth was a hard pill to swallow.

  It was her name he whispered when he was so drunk he couldn’t stand. It was her face he saw in his drug-induced dreams. I knew this because it was her name that slipped from his lips when he cried out in agony for someone to save him. It was never me. Although there was a time I thought it was. And stupid me, I loved him and hung on to shreds of the “good times” to get by. To convince myself that he loved me too in some way. That as fucked up as we were together, we were still together for a reason.

  But what was that reason? Damned if I knew. We’d made such a mess of our togetherness there was nothing good left. Only desperation, hate, resentment, and more hours spent high than not. This is the life. Ain’t it, Vi? Mama would be so fucking proud.

  There was no use crying over spilt milk or my dead mother, so I stepped over Lennox’s jeans that he somehow shed before passing out and grabbed my pack of smokes from the nightstand. The nicotine was nothing compared to the rush of something more potent surging through your veins like sweet venom first thing in the morning, but this would have to do.

  Pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, I walked through the living room, ignored the empty beer cans scattered throughout the stale space, and stepped outside onto the small porch of our beat-up bungalow. Considering I was the only one really bringing in any money, measly as it was waiting tables at the diner and washing hair at the salon, I should have called it my bungalow. But much like everything else, what was mine was Lennox’s, too. The only thing we didn’t share was my sobriety.

  Before I made the decision to call Eden, I also came to terms with many of my regrets, the drug use being the first. There were too many others to divulge at this point in time, so I chose to start there and see where it got me. Everyone thought I was a junkie. Everyone knew Lennox was. But what they didn’t know was
that I had the power to quit anytime I wanted. I’d done it before, now was no different, except this time I was certain if Lennox didn’t join me in sobering up, I’d lose him for good.

  Not like that last time. That time we were lucky. Then, I hadn’t thought to call Eden because I was afraid it was already too late. When you walk in to the sight of your boyfriend stuffed into a bathroom stall and slumped over a toilet with a needle sticking out of his arm, you imagine the worst. You picture the end. But by the grace of God, or whoever it was looking over us that night, Lennox pulled through and lived to tell about it. If living is what you want to call how Lennox spends his days.

  I took a long drag of the cigarette and exhaled longer than there was smoke to release. Looking up at the clouds, the sun hidden behind their cottony whiteness, I shook my head and allowed the tears to fall.

  How the hell did I get here? This was not how I imagined my life. I swiped the pathetic tears with the palm of my hand and flicked the finished cigarette to the ground. A sardonic laugh escaped my nose as I hung my head in disgust. “You did this to yourself.” I whispered it to no one because there wasn’t anyone anymore. We scared them all away, whoever was left. And now I had to admit defeat, accept this depressing life, and grovel to the last person on earth I ever wanted to ask for help just to survive another day in this hell I created.

  Sometimes I thought it would be easier to give in to the high and let it take me away. But where would that leave Lennox? It always came back to Lennox.

  Past

  HE WALKED INTO THE DIVE of a restaurant where I worked with a confidence only the town’s most beloved athlete could possess. I knew who he was—everyone did—but he had no idea who I was. Weird if you asked me, but no one did. My opinion seemed to matter less and less as I got into more and more trouble.

  That night, instead of sporting the usual Gator’s jersey or University of Florida tee, he was more put together in a cotton polo and khaki shorts. His ashy hair was cut shorter than in high school, his face clean shaven—probably some kind of team rules about professional appearance. You could make out every line of his strong jaw and masculine features. And those eyes—they were captivating in the strangest way because they were full of life and hope and everything I never thought I deserved to aspire to. Admittedly, he wasn’t my type—I liked them rough and worn at the edges; inked and dangerous, if you will. But Lennox Dean was home from college on break and something about the way he swaggered in, laughing with his whole body and surrounded by his gaggle of minions, made me squeeze my thighs together to suppress the pang of lust that snuck up at the sight of him.