by Meghan Quinn
“What happened?”
Hand still in his hair, he looks up at me through his lashes and says on a chuckle, “You startled me.”
“I startled you?” I laugh.
“Yeah. I was trying to get this little herb garden I made into the kitchen before you came home, since you suggested the other day that we should grow our own herbs.”
Freaking melt my heart.
“Aw, Tucker, that’s so sweet.”
“Yeah, well it’s a fucking mess now. Do me a favor, babe? Go into the basement. In the back far right corner, under some blankets, there is a shop vac. Can you grab it? It will be the easiest way to clean this mess up.”
“Sure, not a problem.”
I go to the basement, which is through the kitchen by the side door and hold on to the rail as I make my way down the rickety stairs. I don’t ever go in the basement, so navigating my way around is proving to be difficult.
“Lights, where are the lights?” I feel around for a light switch but there are no walls for a light switch. I’m about to turn around when my head skims across something dangling from the ceiling. For a second I freak out thinking it’s a spider trying to spindle my hair into a web when I realize it’s a pull cord for a light.
“Oh, thank God,” I mutter, turning the light on.
From above, I can hear Tucker moving around toward the front door. Hopefully he’s not tracking dirt everywhere because that will be a nightmare to clean up.
I look around toward the corners but don’t see a shop vac. I look under the blankets like Tucker said but see nothing. “Where the hell are you, shop vac?” I call out, hoping the machinery will make itself known. I take a few minutes to look around but Tucker really doesn’t have much in the basement besides some random tools, painting supplies, and wood. Makes sense since he works in construction.
“Hmm . . .” I tap my chin, take one more look and then head back upstairs. When I reach the kitchen, I hear voices coming from the living room.
“Wow, it looks amazing in here.” Sadie? She came inside?
“Thanks,” Tucker gruffs out. “I, uh, thought I would make it not look so sterile.”
“You did an amazing job. It truly looks like a warm and inviting home in here, Tucker.”
“That’s how I envisioned it.” For some reason, his answer makes me feel ill. It’s how he envisioned it. What does that mean? Did he mean when he bought the house for Sadie? Or did he envision it this way when trying to make it comfortable for me? This shouldn’t matter, I shouldn’t care, but with Sadie in the next room, walking through the house that was supposed to be hers—theirs—I have a sinking feeling it is the former.
I walk toward the dining room and peek around the wall, observing them for a second. Sadie is holding one of my nursing books—shit, I must have left it in the car in my haste to get the hell away from her probing questions—and Tucker stands a few feet away, hands in his pockets, his eyes trained on her. His body language doesn’t read stiff like I expected it to be. It’s more natural, almost leaning in her direction.
“This is a little awkward.” Sadie laughs, which causes Tucker to laugh as well and then grab the back of his neck.
With a tilted head, he smiles at her and says, “It’s good to see you, though.”
My stomach sinks to the floor and my throat starts to clamp up. It’s not the words, but the way he spoke them, with a rich, velvety tone that almost sounds grateful of her presence. Embarrassment and humility crashes into me like a wave of big, fat regret. Was I just dreaming these last few months? Was I living in the clouds, thinking that maybe, just maybe Tucker would actually get over Sadie, and find comfort and love with me? Did I even stand a chance?
I clamp my arms around my stomach and shift my feet, trying not to feel sick. When I shift, the floor creaks, drawing their attention. Sadie makes eye contact with me and smiles. “Hey, girl. You left your book in my car. Thought you might need it.”
Putting on a bright smile and avoiding all eye contact with Tucker, I walk up to Sadie and take the book while saying thank you. “Yeah, I would have missed this one tonight.”
“Oh, I’m glad I brought it back tonight instead of trying to find you tomorrow.” Sadie folds her hands together and looks around one last time. “I better get . . . oh, look, these are cute.” She walks up to the fireplace and I squeeze my eyes shut. Shit, the picture frames. “Wh—” Sadie whips around toward me and whispers behind her hand. “You’re with Tucker?”
Crap. I could say no, but the picture of Tucker kissing me on the cheek is a dead giveaway. Instead of lying, I nod my head.
“You two are dating?” This time Sadie turns to Tucker who is still pulling on the back of his neck, but with more force now.
“I mean, we’re kind of just having fun,” Tucker answers, avoiding all kinds of eye contact.
Excuse me?
Just having fun?
This time I look at Tucker. He glances at me, regret in his eyes. Yeah, you better regret that little statement. Or maybe he won’t. Maybe he wants me to know this about us.
Angry, frustrated, and hurt, I squeeze my book to my chest and say, “Yeah, just having fun. Nothing to worry about, Sadie. I would love to hash this out with you, but I really should get to studying.” I turn away when I realize I should probably apologize. “I’m sorry for not telling you earlier and stepping over my best-friend boundaries. I should have thought about the repercussions before entering into something so casual.” That last jab was for Tucker. A part of me really hopes it hurts him but from the way he’s looking at Sadie . . .
He still loves her.
He’s not over her.
From the look on his face, it probably didn’t have the impact I wish it did. We’re kind of just having fun. “Thanks for returning my book.”
I give her a small wave and go straight to my room, making sure to dodge the broken pot on the ground.
Once my door is shut, I sink to the floor and put my head in my hands as tears start to fall from my eyes, a waterfall of pain and regret cascading past my fingers. What was I thinking starting something with Tucker? A great pair of abs, a gentle heart, and a caring soul swept me up into his arms, took me for an unforgettable ride, and just when I thought everything was going to work out for the long haul, I’m reminded of my rose-colored glasses. Rose-colored glasses that have blinded me to the truth.
Sadie. It’s always been Sadie. And I’m not mad at her; I don’t blame her for anything. They have history. So much history that of course, it would be impossible for Tucker to overcome that pull. No one will come between that for him. I should have seen it from the beginning, but I had too much hope for what could be between us.
Logan was right. And as I sit here feeling my heart ripping into thousands of pieces, I despise having to admit that.
I’ll never be Tucker Jameson’s girl.
That door is closed.
Chapter Twenty-Two
TUCKER
“What the hell are you doing, Tucker?”
I stare off at Emma’s room, a sinking feeling in my bones, the kind of feeling that’s lighting up warning signs in my head, telling me that I just fucked up everything with Emma.
We’re just having fun. Fuck, why the hell did I say that? My initial thought was to protect Emma, to save her relationship with Sadie. I thought if I made what we have between us seem casual, Sadie wouldn’t be as mad, but it had the reverse effect. Instead, I hurt Emma.
“Tucker, go after her?” Sadie says.
I rake my hand through my hair, my heart pulling in Emma’s direction, but my head fucking with me. “Why did you come here?” I ask, malice in my voice.
Sadie takes a step back from my unwarranted anger. “Emma left her book in my car, and I wanted to make sure she had it. Why are you angry at me?”
“Because,” I snap while I start to pace the room. “Because you’re the one thing that could fuck up this whole thing.”
“Me?” Sadie points to herse
lf. “How could I possibly be the reason to fuck up anything between you and Emma? First of all, I had no clue anything was even going on between you two. Second of all, I’ve moved on, Tucker, so Emma should have nothing to worry about in that department, unless . . .”
The way she trails her sentence off grates my nerves. “Unless what?”
She takes a step forward and I take a step back. She sighs and continues, “Unless you haven’t moved on.”
“I have,” I answer quickly. There is doubt in my mind that I have. I don’t look at Sadie and wish she were still mine. I can’t. I feel like my heart has moved on but not my head. Isn’t it usually the reverse? Isn’t it the heart that takes longer to heal? If that’s the case, then why am I still all caught up in my head, like there’s a giant roadblock there, stopping me from making any goddamn progress?
“If you have, then there shouldn’t be any worry in Emma’s eyes.” Sadie gestures to the pictures on the mantle and then around the living room. “This seems like a hell of a lot more than just having fun. And from the way Emma has been MIA lately, I’m going to assume what’s going on between you two means a lot more to her than the casual fling you portrayed.”
“It means more to me too,” I say softly and pull on my hair. “Fuck.”
“Does she know that?”
Frustrated and angry at myself, I direct that anger at Sadie. “I really don’t need a fucking counseling session from you right now, Sadie.”
Not taking my shit, she steps forward and pokes me in the chest. “It sure as hell seems like it. Tell me, if I went into the second bedroom, would a crib still be in there?”
My eyes snap to hers, rage blasting behind my lids. “Go ahead, Sadie, fucking talk about the baby we lost, see where that gets you.”
“You can’t keep living in the past, Tucker.”
“I was doing fine before you showed up.”
“Were you? Or were you just pretending you were fine? How can you ever be fine, Tucker, if you still have the past resting in a bedroom a few short feet away from Emma’s room? Does she even know what’s behind that door?”
I shake my head, hating myself, hating how fucked up I am, hating how Sadie’s miscarriage still hollows me out into a shell of nothing every time I think about it. Every time I think about her.
“How do you think she feels then? You devalued what you two have in front of me, the person she’s probably most terrified of when it comes to you because of our history, and you still have things hidden from her?”
Not to mention fucking rule number six. Shit. I’ve fucked this all up.
“Fuck,” I mumble and take a seat in one of the armchairs. Sadie sits across from me on the couch and places her hand on my knee.
“Tucker, I care about you, and all I want is for you to find peace and be happy. It seems like Emma is your happy, but the peace, that’s within you. You need to find acceptance and move on, until you can do that, you can’t fully be with Emma. And I love that girl. She doesn’t deserve to be strung along, only being handed half of you.”
She’s right, I hate that she’s fucking right. But something I desperately wanted was taken away from me. How do I just become okay with that? Find peace in that?
“How did you do it?” I ask, Sadie, my eyes trained on the floor in front of me.
“How did I do what?”
“How did you get over the loss of our baby? How did you move on?”
“I don’t ever think you get over it, Tucker. Our baby is a piece of you that will always rest in your heart. Sometimes you have to look at it in a different light. We weren’t ready and our relationship wasn’t healthy. Maybe there was some powerful cosmic force that saw we weren’t prepared mentally. It wasn’t our time and that’s what we have to focus on.”
“I was ready,” I say on a whisper. “I was ready to be an amazing fucking dad.” My throat closes up just thinking about how I had it all planned out in my head. How I was going to get up in the middle of the night and help with feedings, how I was going to be master diaper changer, how I was committed to giving our baby a healthy and loving home.
I was going to be better than her.
I was going to be so much better than her . . . my mother.
I was going to prove that bad parenting isn’t hereditary, that you can break from what’s expected of you, rise above it all, and be the antithesis of neglect and hate.
“You still are going to be a great dad, Tucker. You’re young, and have a lifetime ahead of you to show the world the thoughtful, genuine, and caring man you’ve become despite the home you grew up in. Be sad about the baby we lost, but don’t let it dictate the rest of your life.”
Her words ring true in my head. That’s what I’ve been doing. But how? How do I prevent that from happening? The loss of my dad dictated both my physical and emotional poverty. The loss of a mother’s nurturing hand in my life forced me into a job I love and am damn good at. The loss of Sadie meant I lost my best friend and many past connections.
That loss allowed my soul to meet my Emma.
Losses aren’t all bad. In fact, losses can bring about good. Different but good.
Be sad about the baby we lost, but don’t let it dictate the rest of your life. That’s what Sadie’s done. I need to accept what we lost. To focus on my future. No, not my future. If there is one thing that is abundantly clear now, it’s our future I want. The one I want with Emma. The one I hope I can rectify with Emma. I want us.
Because there is one thing I know for certain. Losing Sadie and the baby crippled me for a time, but losing Emma will destroy me.
***
Sadie left a little while ago. I took my time cleaning up the broken pot and locking up the house before I went to Emma. I needed to get my head on straight before I talked to her, before I apologized for being a total ass.
There isn’t a light shining under the crack of her door so I look at the time on my phone. Past ten, shit. Unsure if I should knock, I waver between what to do. If she’s sleeping, will she want to wake up and have a conversation? But if I wait until the morning, will that be too late? I’m thinking the latter is not the way I want to go so I knock. When I don’t hear her answer, I open the door a few inches and peek inside.
I was right, she doesn’t have a light turned on and over on her bed, she’s in a curled-up ball, her back facing me.
Needing to make things right, I walk over to her bed and sit on the side, pressing my hand on her hip. She startles for a second but then doesn’t make a move after that.
“Emma,” I whisper, hoping not to scare her too much.
“What, Tucker?” she replies, her voice groggy.
“I’m sorry if I woke you up, but I really want to talk to you about tonight.”
She turns in the bed and sits up. From the light pouring in from the moon, I can see her eyes are puffy from crying. Bitter pain runs down my spine. I did this to her. I’m constantly doing this to her, upsetting her when she’s done absolutely nothing but love on me.
She wipes her cheeks and then pulls her legs into her chest, a defensive position I don’t care for. “There is nothing to really talk about, Tucker.”
“To hell there isn’t. I was an ass back there. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
“Oh, that we are just having fun?” I cringe from her sarcastic tone. “Because isn’t that what this is? Just fun? There isn’t any emotional connection behind what we have as it’s just been sex, right?”
“No—”
“Well it was for me.” She jabs me in the gut. “Just a little fun before I graduated. Isn’t that what you wanted, Tucker? Rule number one, let loose? Well, I did. I let loose, I had some fun, and now it’s time for me to focus on graduating, taking my exams, and moving on and moving out.”
I grind my teeth together from hearing her say those two words. Move out. Just hearing those words causes a deep-rooted ache within me. Move out, fuck, that terrifies me. I don’t want her to leave. She can’t fucking leave.
I try to take her hand but she doesn’t let me so I run my hand over my face, my frustration over this situation growing exponentially and my inability to voice my thoughts clogging my throat. “It wasn’t just fun for me, Emma. You mean something to me.”
“Yeah?” She nods. “Good to know.” Fuck I hate this. This is not my Emma.
“Are you going to say what we have doesn’t mean anything to you?”
Her response isn’t quick. It’s more calculated as she chews on her bottom lip, her eyes falling to her knees, trying to figure out how to break my fucking heart. I can see it in her posture, in the way she’s shutting down. For once, she’s saving herself before I can do any more damage.
When she looks back up at me, I can see the finality in her eyes. This is over for her. Too bad it’s not fucking over for me.
“You’re my friend, Tucker, so of course you mean something to me. But what we’ve had, it was just temporary, not long-term. I think it would be best to end everything and stay as friends, so at least we have that.”
“Stay as friends.” I nod, anger vibrating off me.
“Yeah, I think it’s for the best. Plus with everything changing in a month, who knows where I’ll be? Best end it now.”
“Where you’ll be, what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve been applying for jobs, Tucker. Some are out of state.”
“What?” I stand, my anger blinding me now. “You’ve applied to jobs out of state? When the hell were you going to tell me this?”
“I didn’t think it was necessary . . . since we were only having fun.” She hits me with those regretful words again, but I call bullshit.
I lean forward and plant my hands on either side of the wall behind her, trapping her, forcing her to look me in the eyes. I speak low, deliberately. “You can dick around all you want, Emma, but you and I both know we weren’t just having fun. Was I scared about admitting my feelings to you in front of Sadie? Yeah. Did I want to protect your relationship with Sadie by minimalizing what we have? Fuck, I did. Did I mean any of it? No. Because what we have between us is different. It’s solid. It’s fucking beautiful. I might have fucked this up between us tonight, but moving forward, I won’t be doing that again because you mean everything to me, Emma. Fucking everything.”