We don’t say anything.
We only keep existing.
How come when something awful happens and you want the day to be over with, it takes forever for that clock to strike midnight?
This is the day that never ends.
After getting Aaron in from the garage, I had to make phone calls until my voice got hoarse because my mom wasn’t up for it. In fact, she locked herself in her room. Maura sat beside me in silence the entire time.
When I make my last phone call, I scoot my chair back from the table and stand.
“I’ll take Tanner’s old room,” I tell my silent companion. “You can have mine. Second door on the left. I’ll be directly across the hall if you need anything.”
I don’t wait for an answer as I trudge through the house and up the stairs. When I enter Tanner’s bedroom, my stomach sinks. It looks exactly the same as it did when he left for basic training, while mine was turned into a guest room the instant I moved out. The walls are still a deep navy color, and his Sports Illustrated poster of a scantily clad model is still hanging on the wall above his beat-up wooden desk. I glance around and see his football trophy for MVP his senior year is sitting proudly on his dresser, along with the old watch he used to wear. Everything is still the same.
My brother wasn’t my best friend, or really a friend at all, for that matter. I felt like we were roommates more than anything. We occupied the same house, but we never bonded like brothers and friends should. I don’t mean that we never had any fun times—we did. They were few and far between. We fought more than we got along, and we ignored one another more than we talked.
It seems we only existed too.
As I sit down on his neatly made bed, I try to conjure up the last time I was in this room with Tanner. It was the month before he left for basic, and he was a dick as usual.
“Definitely, babe. I’ll sing to you anytime you want,” I hear him say from across the hall. He must be talking on the phone, because no one responds. “Yeah, I’ll play you a song now. Let me go grab my guitar. Hang on.”
His feet thump on the floor, and I know he’s coming over here. He doesn’t knock but instead flings the already cracked open door so it hits loudly against the wall.
“Get in here, dickhead. I just told this chick I could sing, and we both know I can’t carry a tune for shit. Come help your big brother get some pussy. Maybe I’ll give you a few tips so you can finally lose that fucking v-card your bitch ass is hanging on to.”
Mentally, I create a Fuck You List:
1. No.
2. I’m not a virgin like he seems to think. If he’d been paying attention, he would know that I’ve had a girlfriend for a year now, and we’ve had sex plenty in that time.
3. Go fuck yourself.
Out loud, I groan in disgust and close my songwriting notebook. Glaring at my brother, I say, “The only thing I’m going over there to do is tell that poor, unsuspecting girl that she can do way better than your pigheaded ass.”
He’s on top of me before I can blink, smashing my head between his forearm and bicep in a headlock. He starts punching my back.
“You’re gonna do it, fucker. Or I’ll beat your scrawny ass. Again.”
This is a regular thing with us. Tanner cornering me into doing bullshit things, me refusing, and him using his fists to get what he wants. Since I wasn’t into getting punched or fighting back, I usually ended up caving.
But not today.
“Get off, asshole!” I yell. “You’re smothering me!”
He lands another punch and then starts pulling me off the bed, my feet kicking the entire time.
“Goddammit, Tucker. Come on.” He’s still pulling my now limp body across the floor. “I can’t sing, and you’re fucking amazing at it. Do this for me one last time before I leave.”
Do my ears deceive me, or did he compliment me? Did he mean it?
I push my feet against the floor suddenly, causing him to trip and let go. I spin around to find him sprawled out on the floor on his ass.
“Say you meant it.”
“What?” he barks.
“Say you meant that I’m a good singer.”
He sighs. “Fuck.” He rolls his eyes. “Fine. You’re good.”
He does mean it. I can tell that he does. I think this is the first time my brother has complimented me in my life.
And it feels damn awesome.
“Stop looking at me like that. Fuckin’ pussy,” he growls again, pushing himself up off the hardwood. “Come on.”
This time, I follow him willingly.
Shit. I still think that may have been the only time he’s ever complimented me. I know my brother loved me despite our less-than-stellar relationship. But that wasn’t all on us. I know that with Aaron not acting as a father to me and an overbearing one to Tanner, he seemed like he was playing favorites. Tanner thought he was playing favorites to the wrong son, so he started resenting me for it.
We should have seen past it all though. Instead of fighting one another, we should have fought for a stronger bond together. But we didn’t, and now we can’t.
Taking off my shoes and shirt, I scoot around until I’m lying in the center of the bed on top of the blankets. I can’t make myself get under them. That feels too eerie in this moment.
I lie there for what seems like hours before I finally hear Maura creep up the squeaky stairs. She pushes open the door to my old room and shuffles her feet until she hits the bed. I hear her fall onto it and begin crying. It’s another five minutes before I get up to go check on her.
I don’t knock as I walk into the room across the hall. She’s curled up in a small ball on the bed, tears streaming down her face. It’s sad. She’s sad. This whole fucking thing is sad.
Silently, I walk around the bed and crawl in behind her, pulling her toward me. I place a gentle kiss on her shoulder. I don’t know if the hitch in her breathing was from that or her tears. Either way, it breaks my heart.
“I’m sorry.”
I swear I feel my heart crack. Her voice is hoarse and scratchy from crying and from not talking all day. But it’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
“What are you sorry for?”
“Everything.”
She rolls out of my embrace and turns over to face me. Her normally clear-blue eyes are puffy and red, her face blotchy. She’s been in tears all day, but she’s still the prettiest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.
I lift my hand and push a lock of hair that’s falling across her face back behind her ear, tracing my finger down her cheek slowly until I reach her pouty lips. I want to kiss her, but I don’t know if I should.
“You can,” she says quietly.
So I do. I lean in and place a gentle kiss to her lips. She presses back harder, and before I know it, our tongues are meeting in a twisted passion and our bodies are flush against one another with our legs entwined as we lose ourselves in one another. Her hand roams down my naked back, grabbing at my ass and then around to my erection, rubbing it several times. Breaking the kiss, she swiftly pulls her shirt over her head and pushes down her black leggings.
Fuck. I don’t know if I can.
“Maura…,” I start.
“It’s okay, Tucker.”
I push my jeans down and strip my socks off. I try to roll over her, but she’s on top of me before I can, kissing my lips and then my neck, working her way down my body. She peeks up at me with her mouth hovering inches from my dick, and all I can see in her eyes is love. She doesn’t have to say it out loud; I know.
Then her wet, hot mouth covers me, and I lose all ability to think.
“Fuck. Maura.” I groan as she sucks me straight to the back of her throat, swallowing hard a few times and then popping back off. She gives me the sexiest fucking smirk and then flicks her tongue out, teasing me.
I’d laugh at her bravery, but she definitely has the upper hand here. She swirls her tongue over the head of my aching dick, then begins a rhythm
ic pattern with her mouth and hands.
I don’t want to think about where she learned to do this, but she’s amazing at it because I’m seriously about to blow already.
“Maura,” I pant. “You have to stop.” She doesn’t listen so I reach down and grab her head, trying to stop her movements. I swear all it does it egg her on. “Please,” I beg. “I want to be inside you when I come.”
That one gets her. She stops and then climbs on top of me, lowering herself on me.
I hiss as she takes me all the way in, letting out a low moan. “I swear you’re trying to fucking kill me.”
She starts a slow, steady pace, grinding herself down. She feels good. So fucking good. Too good.
Shit. No condom on. I don’t know if I have one. Why do I never keep them on me?
I grab her hips and stop her. “You gotta stop.”
“Ugh! Why do you keep freakin’ stopping me!” she huffs.
“We need a condom.”
She shakes her head and moves her hips in a small circle. “We’re fine. I’m on the pill.”
“Don’t give a shit. I’m not risking it.”
Lifting off me, she grabs her purse. She roots around a moment before tossing a condom at me. I raise my brow at her questioningly.
“What?”
I say nothing and roll the condom on. Before she can climb back on me, I position myself between her legs, line my dick up, and quickly thrust into her.
“Faster,” she demands.
I oblige, pushing my hips back and forth and back and forth. It’s fast and sweaty and nothing like our lovemaking last night.
This? This is fucking. This is us attempting to find a release within this shitty day. This is us trying to patch the holes in our hearts.
But it’s still amazing. It’s a whole new kind of amazing.
Maura reaches down and starts rubbing at her clit, needing stimulation that I can’t provide. I feel her start gripping at me from the inside, begging for a release.
“I’m close,” I bite out. “So fucking close.”
“Me…ahhhh!” She comes apart beneath me, pulling me over the edge into my own release.
My arms go weak, and I fall rather ungracefully on top of her. We’re both gasping air, our bodies sticking together with sweat.
It takes a few minutes, but I manage to gather up enough energy to push myself off of her and sit up. We’re silent again, unsure of what just happened. It was fast and climatic and good. So fucking good.
I stand up to go dispose of the condom. Maura reaches out to grab my leg.
“Don’t go. Please.”
Turning, I glance back over my shoulder and say, “I’ll be back.”
Her eyes shine in the moonlight that’s spilling in through the open window, and she nods, letting my leg go.
Pulling my jeans back on, I pad down the hall toward the bathroom. I hear my mother sobbing in her room. A part of me—the one that isn’t half naked with a full condom on—wants to stop and comfort her. The other part—the asshole part that sort of resents her—doesn’t.
The asshole part wins this round.
I make quick work in the bathroom and head back to my old room. When I walk back in, I find a now dressed Maura lying on her back in the middle of the bed, staring out the window. She seems sad and thoughtful.
She must sense that I’m there because she doesn’t look my way when she speaks.
“I’m not sure how to move on from this,” she says softly.
A pain shoots through my heart at her words so sharp that I grab at my chest where my tattoo of the black hole is. How fitting.
She continues. “I’ve been crying all day, that much you know. But I’ve been crying for all the wrong reasons. I’m sad that Tanner died. So, so sad. But I’m more heartbroken over us.” She finally turns her head my way, piercing me with her gaze. “How do we move on from this? Can we?”
I gulp loudly, not quite expecting that to be what she was meaning. She scoots over, inviting me to come lay beside her. Getting into bed, I lie on my side, curling my arm up under my head and matching her pose.
“I don’t know, Maura,” I say quietly. “I honestly don’t know.”
She doesn’t say anything, picking at a loose string on the quilt beneath us. I watch multiple emotions run over her face. Sadness, happiness, hope, love. In the end, she still looks confused and unsure.
“I think that may be the problem.”
I don’t want to know what that means for our future. Despite what’s happened and how shitty I feel about my relationship with Tanner and his death, I still want to be with Maura. I still need to be with her. I know that she’s it for me.
She’s my endgame.
Maura closes her eyes, the skin between her brows pinched together like she’s in pain. “I think maybe we should take time apart.”
I don’t say anything, because that’s definitely not what I want. But I’d give Maura the world if I could, and since I can’t, I’ll give her this one thing she needs. Time.
Wrapping my arm around her, I pull her close, placing a soft kiss to her forehead.
“Whatever you need, Maura,” I tell her, my lips brushing against her soft skin with every word. “I’ll be here for whatever you need.”
19
Apparently, we now only talk at night, because today is as awkward as yesterday. Only yesterday was better because I woke up with Maura in my arms as opposed to the empty bed I woke up to today.
The house is flooded with people. It seems like the entire neighborhood has stopped by to check in and see how we’re holding up. And they all brought food.
Both my mother and Aaron have taken turns crying in their rooms today. Now it’s Aaron’s turn, so I’m standing in the hallway between the living room and kitchen, ready to play interference between my mom and the many guests coming in and out if need be.
I’ve been alternating between staring out the back door and at the various family pictures hanging on the wall across from me.
The back door is winning for the moment.
Maura’s been sitting outside in the backyard for the past few hours, curled up in a lawn chair with Rae by her side. I have no idea what she’s thinking or what they’re talking about. All I know is I’ve seen her smile twice, and each time I got jealous because I wasn’t the one to make her do so. Stupid, I know. But now, I’d give anything for her to smile at me like she was less than forty-eight hours ago.
I jump when a cold hand touches my arm. Tearing my gaze from the sliding glass door, I find my mom standing beside me. She leans up against the wall in a similar position to the one I’m standing in.
With the alcohol addiction and wild child days, my mother has always appeared older than she truly is. But since yesterday morning, I swear she’s aged about five more years. Her normally sunny blonde hair is streaked with grey, and her deep brown eyes seem almost black. A plain white t-shirt and jeans are hanging off her already thin frame, which is far thinner than I’m used to seeing. She looks so heartbroken, desolate, lost. I’ve never seen her this bad before, and I guess that’s fair because she’s never lost a child before.
Losing a child changes you. Drastically.
“I’m sorry, Tucker,” she tells me in a cracked voice.
Staring at the wall across from me, I ask, “For what, Ma?”
“I’m sorry that you love her.”
My head whips toward her, taken aback. “What the fuck?”
She smacks my arm. “First, don’t curse at me. I may be a shitty one, but I am still your mother. Second, it’s written clear as a summer day all over your face. I’ve been where you are, loving someone you’re not supposed to. It changes a person.” Then she grins. “Plus, the walls are thin in this house, Tucker, and you’re not as quiet as you think you are.”
I blush and start mumbling my way through a half-assed apology.
My mom gives a small laugh that brings a smile to my face. I haven’t seen her laugh in such a long time tha
t I’m willing to smile when it’s on my behalf.
“It’s okay,” she assures me. “Not something I ever wanted to hear, but it’s okay. You love her, and if her sad state today is any indication, she loves you too. But…”
I groan. “Why is there always a but?”
“But this changes things for you both. Maybe you do need to take time apart. Maybe you need to find who you are as a couple outside of Tanner.” She sniffles at his name. “And his death.”
Considering the past my mom has had, I’ve always tended to stray from her advice. But the shit she just spewed makes sense. It’s something I think I may need to seriously consider.
“Thanks, Ma.” We’re quiet a moment before I say, “I’m sorry, too.”
“What for?”
“For Tanner. I’m sorry it wasn’t me.”
Her mouth drops open and tears instantly stream down her face. She starts shaking, barely able to hold herself up. As she’s about to fall to the ground, I catch her, wrapping her up in my arms.
“Ma? Are you okay?” I ask, rubbing her back in soothing circles.
“How could you say that?” she cries into my shirt. She pulls back and peers up at me. “Tucker, you’re my world. I know I’ve been shit at showing it, but I love you more than you could ever know.”
Don’t get me wrong, I know my mother loves me. However, over the years, it’s always seemed like she somehow loved me less. But something about the way she says it now seems like so much more.
“I want you to understand something, Tucker Cameron Bentley. You…you’re my pride and joy. You represent a time in my life that I’m not proud of but am infinitely grateful for. I was happy for only a moment in time, and in the end, I got you. That’s something that will make me happy for a lifetime. I promise you, Tucker, I love you, and I’m so glad it wasn’t you too.” She grabs my face between her hands. “God. You look so much like him. You have his eyes and his personality. I was always so happy you didn’t get mine.”
I stare at her, unsure of what I heard. I always thought she was ashamed of me, not proud. There are a million things running through my mind, and I’m not sure which one to grab on to first. She loves me, she’s proud of me, she’s glad I’m alive. Those things are enough for me.
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