Longing (8 page)

“You weren’t afraid for my safety.” It wasn’t a question because she understood now. Like never before until this moment, she understood. “I get it. You were afraid for your own.”

His expression told her she’d hit the reason exactly. “Yes. Losing you … I wasn’t sure I could survive it. So … I told myself it could never work. I walked away instead of believing in us.”

“Because that was easier?”

“No.” Cody sat up a little and his strength was palpable. This was the soldier who had survived Iraqi captivity and later saved a whole platoon. “I wasn’t looking for the easy road. I was looking to survive. Blame it on the Army training. When a direction is certain death, we go the other way. Survival, Bailey, that’s all.”

She wasn’t sure what to feel. Yes, she understood now. But that didn’t make his decision right. It didn’t change the fact that they’d both lost in the process. Bailey drew back, putting enough space between them so she could think clearly, so she could remember once more that they’d moved on. This wasn’t that summer, and Cody wasn’t her boyfriend. She closed her eyes and focused on God, the plans He had for her, the fact that He worked all things to the good for those who loved Him.

But what about this, Lord? What I am supposed to do now?

“Talk to me … please, Bailey.”

Cody’s voice seemed far away. She pictured Brandon, the sincerity in his eyes and smile, the way he loved her with everything in him. Cody had been honest … now it was her turn. “About Brandon … I love him, Cody. I didn’t mean to fall for him. I never imagined it when we were filming
Unlocked.”
She wanted him to understand completely. “Back then you alone had my heart.”

Her words seemed to hit him like so many knives. “I … believe you.”

“But since then …” She placed her hand over her heart again. “Brandon and I have gotten very close. I … I can’t imagine breaking up with him.”

“No.” Cody shook his head. “I’m not asking for that.” His tone was more guarded. “You had a right to move on. I mean, really, Bailey … I want you to be happy.” He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly frustrated with himself. “What did I expect would happen? I’m the one who walked away.”

“Yes.” There. He had said it. Bailey relaxed a little. Their breakup, the silence between them, the missed communication and losses were his fault. Because he had walked away. “Well … at least we have closure. So I don’t have to wonder forever what happened.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his hands together. “And maybe next time you see me you won’t feel like running.”

“Or maybe I’ll run faster.” She laughed, and the break from their serious talk felt good. Her smile faded. “None of this is easy, Cody. Not for either of us.”

“I know.” For the first time since he arrived, he seemed to lose the battle with himself, the battle to keep her from knowing not only the truth about the past, but the reality of how he still felt about her. He reached out and gently touched her cheek, brushing a wisp of her hair from her face. “I’m sorry, Bailey.” He looked like he might kiss her, but he kept the space between them. “I guess … I’ll always regret walking away. But I had to tell you why I did it.” His smile didn’t hide his broken heart. “At least I won’t regret that part.”

They stood and he drew a deep breath as he turned to her. “I don’t want to go.”

She didn’t want him to leave either. But she couldn’t lead him on, couldn’t let him think her heart was free. “Maybe we can talk sometime … every once in a while.”

“Hmmm.” He tilted his head, looking still deeper within her
soul. “I never was much good at being your friend.” The kindness in his smile allowed her to see the Cody she knew so well, the one she had loved for so many years. “We’ll see, okay? That’s about as good as I can do for now.”

“Okay.” She felt the slightest sting, because once again they were saying goodbye. But she understood. “Thanks, Cody. For talking.”

He didn’t respond, didn’t have to. Instead of saying anything more, he simply took her in his arms and hugged her. This time there was more there, more depth and longing. A longing for something they had both walked away from, something they would never have again.

As he pulled away he let his cheek brush lightly against hers. “I love you, Bailey.” He whispered the words, and they mixed with the sound of the wind in the barren trees. “I always will.”

Bailey sucked in a quick breath, hating the way her heart responded to his so easily. Even now when she loved Brandon Paul. She put her hands on his shoulders and looked at him, straight through to his hurting soul. “You’ll always matter to me.”

If he was wounded by the fact that she didn’t tell him she loved him too, he hid the fact. Instead he allowed a resolute smile and he nodded a few times. “See ya, Bailey.” He started to walk away, his eyes still on hers for a few final seconds.

“See ya.” She hugged herself tightly and watched him walk away. Long after he climbed in his truck and drove away she sat there, oblivious to the cold all around her. Unable to do anything else, she relived every moment, every line of their conversation. Her night with Cody Coleman … a too-quick hour stolen from yesterday. When she couldn’t stand the thought another minute, she headed inside. As she did she realized that watching him walk away hadn’t caused the same physical pain in her heart as before. Maybe because she loved Brandon Paul. Here alone she felt God reassuring her that she’d said the right things, made the right
choice in loving Brandon. Because the truth was this: After only a day apart she missed Brandon, more than she had been willing to admit.

Even to herself.

C
ODY COULDN’T SEE THE END OF
B
AILEY’S DRIVEWAY FOR HIS
tears. Maybe he’d said too much, shown more of his heart than he should’ve. He definitely hadn’t planned to tell her everything, to be so honest. But once he sat across from her, smelling her perfume and the shampoo in her beautiful hair … once he was inches from her, he was helpless to do anything but open up about how he felt.

Exactly how he felt.

As he drove home north on Interstate 37, he allowed the conversation to play again in his mind. The look in her eyes, the way he could still read her heart the same way he could read it when she was a high school girl. She still cared, still loved him. But her feelings were different now—that much was clear. She was in love with Brandon Paul now. Cody would respect that. It was why he hadn’t called her out on her feelings, why he hadn’t forced the issue when he admitted how he still loved her and when she couldn’t say the same back to him.

If he hadn’t been so afraid of losing her, he’d still have her. It was the most bitter irony, and it plagued him, weighed on him. He ran over their conversation again, replayed the minutes. She’d moved on, and she’d accused him of doing the same thing, but then …

Then, what?

Suddenly his response was as clear as if he’d just watched a video of himself during that part of their talk. He had actually
started to say what? That he hadn’t moved on? That he didn’t have those kinds of feelings for Cheyenne? Which could only mean that … that he still loved Bailey. Still wanted her more than he had known until tonight.

A sick feeling came over him and Cody couldn’t go another minute without addressing the issue. He took the next exit, turned left and then right into the parking lot of a closed supermarket. He put his car in park and killed the engine.

If he loved Bailey, then what was he doing with Cheyenne? She’d had a headache tonight. It was why he felt okay about going to the Flanigans’ house. Cheyenne wasn’t expecting to hang out with him. And the minute he’d known that, he had run to Bailey. Again his words came back to him.
I didn’t move on …
that’s what he was about to tell Bailey. Yes, he’d stopped himself, but the truth remained and it hit him like a sucker punch.

He didn’t love Cheyenne … he loved Bailey. The way he had always loved her. At least his heart felt that way here … now … after being close enough to touch her. Maybe he didn’t want to explain the situation, because to do so would mean first explaining it to himself. His feelings for Cheyenne had been strong from the moment they met at Tara’s dinner more than a year ago. But in light of this new realization, he couldn’t have felt love or infatuation or longing.

Rather what he felt for Cheyenne was sympathy and concern, pity even.

The reality of that turned his stomach and made him furious with himself. Yes, he was attracted to her and, yes, he enjoyed being with her. But all of that was still wrapped up in some sad sort of feeling sorry for her. Cheyenne had given him purpose; she’d helped him get past the flashbacks of war and the pointless way his life felt after he’d walked away from Bailey. She helped him feel less lonely, and he helped her get through missing her
fiancé and then he’d stood by her during the rehab she’d needed after her car accident.

But that didn’t mean he was in love with her.

Not when being with Bailey defined the word.

Cody hung his head. What was he supposed to do now? Already Chey had asked him why he stayed, whether he really loved her. And he’d always assured her that yes, he was falling for her. Because he believed that himself. It was only tonight, after spending time with Bailey, that he knew for sure.

Love? Being in love? That bar was set a long time ago by Bailey Flanigan. He loved Cheyenne, but in a completely different way. If he wanted to face God and the mirror, he would have to set things straight with her as soon as possible.

Sometime tomorrow.

He lifted his head, weary from the realization of what the morning would bring. Then in a rush of anger he slammed his hand on the steering wheel.
Nice work, Coleman.
How could he have let things get this serious with Cheyenne without stopping to examine his real feelings? Now the talk they had to have would hurt both of them, even if Cheyenne wouldn’t exactly be surprised by it.

Options presented themselves as he started up his truck. Maybe he could tell her he needed more time, and maybe after a while the concern and caring he felt for Cheyenne would become a love brighter than what he’d once shared with Bailey.

Or maybe not.

No, Cody couldn’t ask her to hold onto that hope. He couldn’t do that to either of them. Either she would be okay to see him as a friend — nothing more — or they would have to part ways. Another heartache at his hands. The sick feeling remained as he headed out of the parking lot. But before he could pull into traffic his phone rang.
Strange,
he thought. It was nearly one in the morning. No one called him this late.

He grabbed his phone from the seat beside him and glanced at the face of it. The call was from Tara. He wrinkled his brow. Tara was normally asleep hours earlier than this. He took the call and pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello? Tara?”

“Cody.” She was crying. The cry of someone heartbroken. “We’re at the hospital. I’m with Cheyenne.”

His heart stopped and then thudded hard into a strange rhythm. Cheyenne was at the hospital? “What is it? What happened?”

“Her headache … it got worse, and she … started getting sick. Really sick, Cody, so I brought her here.” She was trying to control her weeping, but she was losing the battle. “The doctors are worried. She … she has something on her brain. They’re doing tests.”

Cody felt the blood leave his face. There couldn’t be anything worse wrong with Cheyenne, right? She’d already been through so much. Cody gritted his teeth.

God, You can’t let her be sick. Please …

“Which hospital are you at?”

Tara explained where they were, at the hospital not far from where Cody lived in Indianapolis. “Okay. Got it.”

“Please, Cody … hurry. She’s in so much pain. I’m so afraid for her.” Tara tried again to find control. “She’s … she’s been asking for you.”

“Thanks, Tara.” He pulled into traffic and headed for the freeway on-ramp. “I’m on my way.”

Cody made the drive to the hospital in record time. The whole way he couldn’t think even a little about the talk the two of them needed to have. Instead he did the only thing he could do: He prayed for her safety and healing. And that God would give him the strength to help her through whatever season they were about to enter.

Less than an hour later he rushed into her hospital room. Cheyenne was asleep, IV tubing in her arms, her complexion
paler than usual. Tara sat beside her, eyes red and swollen, and as she saw Cody she hurried to him. Her fear was like a shield around her. “They gave her something … so she could sleep.” Tara bit her lip and looked back at Cheyenne. “The test,” she turned to Cody again. “They found something on her brain. What … what could that mean?”

“First … come here.” He took the woman in his arms and rocked her, calming her. “God is with us. Whatever this is, whatever’s coming … He’s already gone before us. He won’t leave us now.” He ran his hand over Tara’s back. “God doesn’t want us to be afraid.”

He felt her exhale, felt a level of calm return. “You’re right.” She grabbed a few quick breaths, evidence of the sobbing she’d done earlier. “I can’t … I don’t know if I can handle this. I don’t know.”

Cody wasn’t sure either. “Life only comes at us one day at a time. That’s where we need to let God meet us.” His words weren’t quite in sync with his pounding heart. But he was speaking truth. That was enough for now. “Let’s ask Him to meet us … right here … whatever comes next.”

Tara nodded, and for the next minute Cody held her and prayed, asking God to go before them and carry them through whatever came next with Cheyenne, with her headaches and the spot they’d seen on her brain. When they finished, he led Tara back to the spot beside Chey, and he took the chair opposite her bed. The moment felt altogether too familiar, the way they’d so often sat with Cheyenne in the days and weeks after her car accident.

“Did they say … maybe it was scar tissue? From her head injury.” It was something he’d thought about since he took Tara’s call. After all, Chey’s brain had suffered much trauma in the accident. Certainly that could account for an unusual MRI, and the appearance of something on her brain.

“I asked.” Tara folded her hands in her lap and did her best to look stronger. She lifted her chin. “They couldn’t tell me. Said it would take an expert to look at the pictures.”

Cody was about to ask whether anyone who had tended to Cheyenne after her accident had been called in yet, when a woman walked in. She shut the door behind her, and immediately Cody knew two things. First, this doctor had the test results they were waiting for. And second, the news wasn’t good.

“Hello.” Her sad smile was another indicator. “I’m Doctor Juarez. I’ve spent the last half hour going over Cheyenne’s MRI and a few other tests.”

Cody shot a quick look at Tara and nodded. God knew what was coming next. Cody took the lead. “You know about her accident?”

“Yes.” Her eyes were a mix of intelligence and sympathy. “She nearly died from what I read.”

“Her head was badly damaged. It was a miracle that she didn’t suffer brain damage.”

“I saw that.” She took a step closer and held the chart in her hands out in front of her. “Sometimes after an accident like that, we see scar tissue. And sometimes scar tissue on the brain can be a troublesome issue. My initial thinking was that the previously injured areas had scarred some, and that this was causing her severe headaches and nausea. But sometimes … and there’s not conclusive evidence about this … a previously injured area of the brain can actually develop a tumor.”

A tumor?
Cody gripped the edge of his chair and tried not to flinch.

Tara had a hold of the railing of Cheyenne’s bed. “No,” she uttered the word in a way that was barely audible. “Dear God, no.”

If Doctor Juarez heard Tara, she didn’t acknowledge the fact. Instead she opened the file and read the contents for a few seconds. Then she looked straight at Cody. “In this case that seems
to be what we’re looking at. A tumor in the same location where Cheyenne suffered trauma to the brain from the accident.”

“Meaning … her brain is still recovering?” Cody couldn’t let his mind go anywhere else.

“No, I’m afraid what we’re seeing is an actual tumor on her brain.” She looked discouraged by the news, and she glanced at Cheyenne, then back at Cody. “We need to do a biopsy. But I have a feeling we might be dealing with cancer. An aggressive cancer. That’s the way it looks.” She paused, letting the shattering news make its impact. “I’m very sorry.”

“You … you said you can’t know for sure, right? Not without a biopsy?” Cody’s hands trembled, the news knocking hard against his heart.

“True. We can’t be sure until then.” She nodded, as if she understood Cody’s need for hope. “Still, we need to live with what we do know. She has a tumor at the site of her brain injury. Whether it’s cancer … that news can wait until Monday. I’d like to keep her in the hospital until then, run some blood tests and find a medication that will help with her headaches and nausea.”

The doctor said something else, something about managing pain and being honest with Cheyenne when she woke up. “These cancers … if it’s cancer … can move very quickly.” She sounded more serious than before. “It’s important that you both help Cheyenne have a realistic approach to this. If that’s what we’re dealing with.”

As she excused herself and left the room, Cody’s mind screamed with the doctor’s words:
Realistic? Pain management?
It was like the woman had already determined that Cheyenne was terminally ill. The fact made Cody angry … at the doctor and the tumor and the looming diagnosis. Maybe even at God. Across from him, Tara covered her face with her hands and started crying again. He wanted to stand, walk around the bed, and go to her … be strong for her. But he couldn’t. He stared at the hospital
floor and tried to believe he was really here again. Sitting at Cheyenne’s bedside dealing with yet another impossible situation.

His own words came back to him. God would only have them handle the next thing. And now they knew what the next thing was.

“Cody …” Tara’s voice was muffled by her fresh tears. “How could this happen?”

Cody wanted to have an answer. The truth rattled down the road of his mind. God was a mystery … His ways were good. His plans might be hard to understand, but they could be trusted. Even in the darkest days.

But this?

He swallowed hard, stood, and went to Tara. He took her hands and helped her to her feet. He hugged her for a long time and when he released her he shook his head. “I don’t know.”

It was all he could say. Because when Cheyenne woke up they’d have to tell her the most impossible news. He had no idea what God was doing. He knew just one very real thing in light of this news: If Cheyenne was fighting a brain tumor, he couldn’t possibly leave her.

No matter how he felt.

He excused himself and rode the elevator to the fifth floor, the floor that housed the chapel. Without hesitating he took a spot in the empty room on a pew at the back. Then he pulled his iPod from his pocket and slipped his earbuds in. His new favorite band was Anthem Lights, and every song on their album spoke to him. Sometimes — moments like this — only a song could bridge his heart to God’s, filling his senses with truth and hope. He chose the last song on the album. The song was “Where the Light Is” … a reminder that darkness didn’t have a chance where the presence of God could be found. Where light existed, light would win. It was a truth Cody needed desperately — especially now. When darkness seemed determined to win out.

Cody let the music run through him.

Look in my eyes in the morning …

See the hope there and the soul that still remains …