A Second Chance

Hazel shivers from the cold and reaches across the console to turn up the heat. She's stuck waiting at the too-long light at 5th and Pine Street. She hates this one. She always seems to catch it at just the wrong time. Shifting in her seat uncomfortably, she wonders what it's going to be like to go back to the house after all these months. The only home she's ever known, she was terrified to see it in its current state: a bare, lifeless skeleton of what it had been. Her stomach turns at the thought of the emotions that are sure to come rushing back to her at the sight of its sad, empty interior; save for the attic, of course; the reason behind her visit. They'd forgotten to clear out the attic when they'd gone, her and Sawyer. Now it was the only thing left to be done before it sold next week.

Sawyer. She feels a twinge in her heart at the thought of him and absentmindedly glances at her left hand. She doesn't even know what they are to each other anymore. They started as high school sweethearts after Sawyer had suddenly decided that he liked the shy artsy girl in his algebra class. She always felt as though he made a mistake in falling for her. No one had ever paid much attention to her before that, at least not for any other reason besides her art. A prodigy, her artwork garnered a good deal of attention, earning her a low-level of fame early on. The majority of her works were bold and gripping representations of her tumultuous childhood. One that had continued to haunt her long after she'd escaped, and it seemed to her now that she would never truly be free.

The light finally flashes to green and Hazel hits the gas, driving straight through a giant pothole. She curses as her car lurches violently and she hears a terrible scraping sound. She glances behind her and eyes the contents of the backseat. Two finished canvases sit leaning against the car door, the paintings both affecting explorations of the darkness that she's found herself trapped in as of late. Next to those is a bag of art supplies and a small cooler with a cheese and tomato hoagie chilling inside for later. Seeing that everything is still in its place, she turns back to the road and drives the remaining two miles to her old house, which still sits perfectly tucked between two others in the cul-de-sac on Elm Street, just where she'd left it. She pulls into the driveway and shuts off her car, it's time to get this over with.

Sawyer looks up from the large storage box he's been sorting at the sound of a car door outside. He glances at the small window but doesn't move towards it; he isn't expecting anyone. Instead, he shifts his gaze to the boxes that are spread out across the small attic space. There are more than he remembered and they are all full of memories. He hadn't prepared himself for the emotions that came from searching through the remnants of his life with Hazel. A life he still wanted. He never understood what led her to break up with him so suddenly, she hadn't provided him an explanation. The timing had been terrible, he'd just bought her an engagement ring. He sighs deeply and adjusts his neck, this was going to be a long day.

Putting his attention back on the box in front of him, he finds a sketchpad with some of Hazel's earliest artworks. Sawyer thumbs through the pages, marveling at her talent as he had so many times before. She was truly something special. He comes to the last drawing and studies it closely. She depicted a woman's body being ripped open by a set of large, masculine hands. Her organs are exposed and bleeding, more striking though was the perfectly captured look of pain and terror on her face. In stark contrast to her gentle and loving- albeit guarded- nature, Hazel's artworks were often jarring and violent. Especially the early ones, like these. She moved on to more abstract techniques as time went on, but the messages always remained the same. She'd never shared the details with him but he knew her artwork served to voice the pain and suffering she'd suffered in the past. He'd always known she had deep scars, even when they first got together. But he foolishly thought he was the one that could help her heal them, an obvious mistake. Maybe if he could see her artwork for these past four months, he'd get a small glimpse into her feelings. It was the only way she would ever reveal them.

Hazel enters the house and is startled to see that the lights are already on. “Hello? Is anyone there?” She calls. Her voice echoes through the halls to no answer. She can't hear anyone inside and there weren't any cars parked out front, so she shrugs it off and moves further into the house. Before heading up to the attic, she completes a slow, solemn lap through the first floor, pausing at her favorite places. She stops at the small kitchen nook where she used to curl up with her coffee every morning, and the front room where she and Sawyer would watch movies. Her art room. The memories are bittersweet and leave a bad taste in her mouth. She'd give anything to have it all back, but, unfortunately, it's much too late for that.

Her eyes start to well up as she moves up the stairs and walks into the master bedroom. She looks around, as she does she sees the room as it was. Her eyes settle on the space where Sawyer's dresser used to stand. That is where it happened, the moment that ruined everything. The old feelings come flooding back and her heart starts to pound in her chest. She hadn't told Sawyer about her family life, or anyone else for that matter. The only way she'd ever been able to let those feelings out was in her art. She'd hoped he would be able to see it and understand that she wasn't like everyone else, but then she'd stumbled upon the tiny box hidden inside his sock drawer. Inside it was a beautiful, shining engagement ring. Anyone else would have been overjoyed but Hazel was triggered. She panicked and ran away from the emotions that threatened to suffocate her. She hadn't even given him an explanation. She'd meant to, but could never seem to find the words. Time passed and she lost her chance.

She flees the empty bedroom and heads for the attic. It looks like the light is already on in there as well. What the...She peeks through the small doorway hesitantly and sees a familiar figure. Her breath catches in her throat and she gasps, “Sawyer?” He spins around and gapes at her in shock. They both remain frozen in place, staring at each other intently, neither one able to speak.

“Hazel,” Sawyer says, finally breaking the silence, “I didn't know you were coming.” He sees that she cut her hair. It falls just above her shoulders, he'd never seen it this short before. It looked beautiful.

“I didn't know you'd be here either.” She replies meekly before stealing a glance at the door. The air is thick with all of the words left unsaid.

“I've been going through the boxes along this wall, maybe you could get those over there,” he points at the other side of the room, “then hopefully we can get through this quickly and be done with it.” His voice has a coldness that she hasn't heard before. She offers a slight nod and wanders over to the opposite wall. Tears start to fall and she quickly wipes them away before choosing a box to open. She starts to sift through it.

Facing the wall, Sawyer's mind starts to run wild as he listens to the sounds of Hazel searching through the storage box until something on the floor catches his eye. It's the sketchpad. On an impulse, he reaches down and picks it up, then walks it over to Hazel, only to hesitate once he reaches her side. She turns to look and his heart drops at the sight of her tear-stained face. He reaches out and sets his arm around her, reflexively. She sinks into his touch and, before they know it, they are locked in a tight embrace. With her arms wrapped around him, Hazel begins to cry into his chest. Before long, her knees start to buckle and Sawyer scoops her small body up in his arms. The sketchpad falls from his hand, some of the pages spill out onto the floor. Neither of them notices as Sawyer sits them down on the floor.

He strokes her back gently and whispers in her ear, “please don't cry.” In response, Hazel drops her head and sobs even harder. That he could be so kind after all she had done to him overwhelms her. Sawyer holds her patiently until her tears dry and she finally speaks.

“I'm so sorry, Sawyer,” her voice is quiet and weary.

“For what?” He asks and then holds his breath for her answer.

“Everything,” she braces herself. It's now or never; speak or lose him forever, “I found the ring in your sock drawer and I totally freaked out. The thought of marriage is absolutely terrifying to me. I love you so much, Sawyer, but my parents...you just don't know how bad they were or what it was like to grow up with them. I was afraid the same thing would happen to us, I don't know why. It's completely irrational but still, it somehow feels so...” she trails off. He holds her tighter and lets out out his breath.

“I wish you'd told me that before, Hazel. I don't care if we get married, I just want to be with you. These months apart have been like torture for me. You left and wouldn't tell me why, that wasn't fair to me.” She meets his eyes and places her hand over his heart.

“I know, I'm so sorry,” she murmurs, ashamed.

“Don't ever do that to me again,” he says firmly.

“Wait, does that mean...?” She searches his eyes and he leans forward to kiss her. As soon as their lips meet, the pain melts away. They kiss again and again, each more passionate than the last until they are suddenly interrupted by a loud rumbling from Sawyer's stomach.

“Hungry?” Hazel asks after a giggle.

Sawyer's cheeks grow a light shade of red, “A bit, I skipped lunch. I don't suppose there's any food left in the kitchen down there.” She remembers her sandwich and hurries to retrieve it. She returns quickly and hands it to him, still in its wrapping. When he unwraps it, he laughs in surprise.

“A cheese and tomato? That's my sandwich! Since when do you eat these, Hazel?” he looks at her in surprise and delight.

“I guess I've taken to them recently,” she says as she sits down next to him. Sawyer smiles wide and hands her half of the sandwich. They sit on the floor side by side, stealing glances at each other as they eat. Hazel can hardly believe her luck, a second chance, she was certain that she'd lost him forever; the best thing that ever happened to her. She knew she never wanted to make that mistake again, and so she clears her throat and finds her courage...“So, one time, when I was about six...”