by Megan Green
My mother sits down by my side as Sammy leaves the room. She reaches over and smooths a strand of hair behind my ear, her eyes kind as she looks at me.
“She is right though. You can’t stay hidden in here forever.”
“Whyyy?” I whine, not understanding why people can’t just leave me be.
I’m perfectly happy to sit here in my own stench and filth, content to become the lonely old cat lady who dies peacefully of suffocation by cat hair.
Well, maybe not perfectly happy. But, given that I can’t have what would make me truly happy, it sounds like a decent alternative.
“Because, Avie Bug, there’s a whole great, big world out there. One that exists outside the confines of these four walls. People who love you. People who rely on you. People who need you.”
I know immediately what she’s getting at, and it works. Guilt sets in as soon as the words leave her lips. I left my job with almost no notice to begin with, and now, here I am, back in Stetson, but still leaving them to fend for themselves.
Even still…
“It hurts too much, Mama. Everywhere I go, every place I see…they all remind me of him. Even work isn’t safe. Carter used to go there to visit Grammy with me all the time. How am I supposed to go back and walk those halls when all I can see is his smiling face as he laughed and joked with her?”
“He spent plenty of time right here, in this room, too, Avery. So, I don’t see how holing up in here makes things any easier.”
I sigh. “It doesn’t, I guess. It just makes it easier to wallow. Here, I can get lost in my memories. I can let myself think of all the things I’ve missed out on, all the things I’m never going to get back. I can just be miserable and not have to worry about what anybody else is going to say or think.”
I feel my eyes begin to well with tears again, and my bottom lip starts to quiver. Just when I thought I didn’t have any tears left…
My mother’s soothing touch comes down on my hair, her fingers twisting around the gnarled strands. She’s careful though, not tugging too hard or causing any pain. Instead, the soft sensation relaxes me for the first time in three days. I let my eyes drift closed, feeling the tears squeeze out from beneath my lashes but no new ones form in their place.
“You’re so much like me; it’s crazy,” she finally says, still continuing to play with my hair.
My eyes flutter open, and I find her watching me with a small smile. “What do you mean?”
“I never told you this,” she says, taking a shallow breath.
I sit up straight, wondering what she’s about to say. Because, as far as I know, there’s nothing about my mother I don’t know.
“I never brought it up because, honestly, it wasn’t important. It was in the past and had no bearing on you or our family. But maybe…maybe, now, it’s time you knew.”
Now, she’s definitely got my interest, and I nearly squeak in protest at her pause.
“Your father wasn’t my first love. I was engaged to another man before him.”
“What?” I shriek. “But-but-but…”
I don’t have words for this. My parents’ relationship is what dreams are made of. It’s the entire reason I couldn’t wait to get married, growing up. They’re perfect for each other in every sense of the word, and the idea of my mother being with somebody else is not only unthinkable; it’s downright blasphemy.
“It’s true,” she continues. “Before I was engaged to your daddy, I thought I’d found the love of my life. He was tall, dark, handsome, and the captain of the football team, and I had stars in my eyes every time I looked at him. I can still remember the way my heart raced the day he first asked me out our senior year of high school. Your father told me not to do it, that I was getting myself into something I wasn’t prepared for, but I didn’t listen. I was so head over heels infatuated with this other boy that I couldn’t see anything else. And, six months later, right before graduation, we got engaged.”
“You got engaged in high school?” I ask, baffled at this new information.
My mother barely let me date in high school. When Miles first asked me out, I had to fight her tooth and nail before she finally agreed to let me go even though I was almost eighteen. Now, I guess I know why.
“It wasn’t ideal, but we didn’t have any other choice. I, um…I was pregnant.”
“What?” I shriek again. “You were p-pregnant? How is that possible? Wait, do I have a sibling somewhere? Or…” An idea suddenly hits me, and my stomach dips down to my toes. “Mom, please don’t tell me. Am I…”
“God, no, Avery. Don’t be silly. You are one hundred percent your father’s daughter. I, um…I lost the baby. Before we got married.”
And, as if only adding further proof to the terrible person I am, I breathe out a sigh of relief. I don’t think I could’ve handled finding out my dad wasn’t actually my dad or that I had a brother or sister out there somewhere, living their life as completely unaware of me as I was of them.
But, once the relief passes, sorrow floods through me. Because I know how hard my mom and dad tried for another baby after me, each and every month passing bringing more heartbreak and despair for the both of them. Losing a baby had to have been devastating for her.
“I’m so sorry, Mama,” I say, meaning every word.
She sniffles, and I know the memory of that baby haunts her still.
“It was a long time ago, Avie Bug. And, despite the tragic ending, it actually opened my eyes to a lot of things.
“Shawn—that was his name, the boy I was engaged to before your dad—turned out to be a whole different person than I’d thought he was. After I lost the baby, he changed. Gone were the sweet words and promises of forever. He blamed me for the loss of the pregnancy and yelled accusations quickly turned into small pushes and shoves. Never anything that truly hurt me, but after one night when he shoved me backward during an argument and I tumbled over the coffee table in his living room, your father showed up on my doorstep.
“By that point, we’d all graduated, and he’d been busy getting ready to leave for college. We hadn’t seen each other in the months since graduation—me always being with Shawn and your dad living his own life, preparing for his future. But he stopped over to say good-bye, took one look at the faint bruise on my cheek from my fall, and lost it. I had to clamp down on his arm and drag him back inside to keep him from going to beat the shit out of Shawn.
“Two hours later, he convinced me to move to Wyoming with him. He told me he’d rented an apartment close to campus and already had a job lined up to pay the bills. He said I could do whatever I wanted while I got things sorted out, be it college or finding a job myself. He just wanted me far, far away from Shawn.”
“And you went,” I said, already knowing the story of how my parents ended up as roommates during college and fell in love.
“And I went,” she confirms.
“I had no idea you knew Daddy in high school,” I observe. “You guys only ever talk about college.”
“We were friends in high school. Not as close as you and Carter, mind you, but friends. But, after everything, it just seemed easier to start over. I fell in love with your father those first few months here, in Wyoming. I came to truly know him, to understand him on a level I’d never even considered before. So, all that stuff before…like I said, it just didn’t seem important.”
“So, why tell me now?” I ask, glad she’s entrusted me with that info but still not quite sure how it pertains to my situation.
“Because I did this exact same thing. When I first came here, to Wyoming, I’d just lost my baby, lost my fiancé, and lost what I thought was my entire life. I locked myself in the spare bedroom your father had in his apartment, and I refused to come out for days.”
“Then, you understand where I’m coming from. So, why can’t you just let me have this? At least for a little longer?”
Her eyes get a faraway look, as if she were being transported back to those days all those years a
go. She smiles faintly as she remembers something from back then, and when her eyes fall back to mine, they’re firm. Loving in a way that only a mother’s eyes can be but firm.
“Because, Avie Bug, your father didn’t let me just sit and wallow in my misery. He insisted I get out there and live. He saved me. And I’ll be damned if I don’t do the same for you.”
“Tell me more about you and Daddy. Back then,” I say, not sure why I want to rub salt in my already-festering wound.
I’ll take Things You Shouldn’t Talk About After Having Your Heart Ripped Out of Your Chest for two hundred, Alex.
“He was everything I needed. And everything I never knew I wanted. I thought I hated him at the time—those days he made me get up and out of bed, heading out to join him at the grocery store or even just to walk around town because we were too broke to do anything else. I hated that he wouldn’t just leave me alone, let me be sad. But it was exactly what I needed.”
“How did you know?”
“Because, before I knew it, I was smiling again. And then laughing. After that first week, I was getting up and putting makeup on again. I’d make breakfast. And, soon after, I was ready to start living. I’d leave the apartment on my own. I even found a job. It kept me busy that first year while your father was in school. And then, the next year, when the opportunity arose, I enrolled. Got my degree and a career I loved, a job I looked forward to every day until I had you.”
My mother quit her job just before she gave birth to me. The older I got, the guiltier I started to feel about that fact. But she always told me she wanted nothing more than to be a mother. There was no place on earth she’d rather be than right here, at home, watching her baby girl grow up.
I sniffle back a few tears and look up at her with sad eyes. “I don’t have that though. I don’t have a man like Daddy here to help me through it. The only man I want is the whole reason I’m here in the first place.”
My mother lowers her hand and brushes the back of her fingers across my cheek. “You don’t need a man to help you do that, Avery. You’re so strong, so much stronger than I ever was. I have no doubt, you’ll get through this on your own.”
I nod, feeling a slight inkling of hope at her words. Things might seem hopeless now, but I know that, with people like my mother in my life, lifting me up at every turn, there’s nothing I won’t be able to handle. Even if it feels like I’m dying inside.
“But,” she continues, bringing me out of my thoughts and back to her, “it’s okay to not be strong all the time. It’s okay to let the tears fall, to let yourself break. As long as you put yourself back together again in the end.”
I smile, reaching out to take her hand in mine.
“And,” she starts again, “I also think it’s okay for you to ask for help. I know you only gave me a quick rundown, but I don’t think it’s over between you and Carter, Avie. I know it feels like it now, but if you give him time, I just know that he’s going to come around.”
I shake my head, visions of Carter as he asked me to leave filling my mind. “You didn’t see him, Mama. He was so hurt.”
“As he had every right to be. Honestly, Avery, what were you thinking?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I just…I wanted to help Miles if I could. I might not love him, but that doesn’t mean I want him to be miserable the rest of his life. Even if he does maybe deserve it. I knew Carter would be upset about me wanting to meet with him, and I just didn’t want to worry him.”
“You don’t get to make those decisions on your own when you’re in a relationship, Avie. Being with someone, giving yourself to them fully, means letting them into every facet of your life. It means making decisions together and putting one another before everything else—even your own wants and needs.”
My eyes drop down to the bed as I give her a nod. “I know. It’s just…I don’t think I could’ve lived with the fact that someone asked me for help, and I refused to try to provide it. It’s not who I am.”
My mom reaches over and places her hand over mine. “You’ve always had the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever known, Avie Bug. And Carter knows that. That boy has been crazy about you since the moment you brought him home. If he knew it was important to you, there’s no way he would’ve tried to stop you from going. No matter how much he might not like it.”
Her words are so similar to Carter’s the night I met with Miles that I can’t help but recognize their truth.
I hadn’t had enough faith in Carter. I’d been so scared of damaging our fledgling relationship that I’d completely destroyed it in the process.
I should’ve told him. I should’ve trusted that he would understand why I felt like I needed to do it.
Instead, I’ve lost the one person who truly makes me happy.
“What do I do now, Mama?” I ask, my voice desperate as tears well in my eyes. “I messed things up so bad.”
She pats the back of my hand. “For now, you just wait. You’ll know when the time is right.”
My brows furrow because I have absolutely no idea what she means. When the time is right for what? To go back to Seattle? To beg Carter for forgiveness? Or to move on with my life and hope that I can find someone who loves me even a fraction of the way Carter does?
When I ask her to clarify, needing to know what it is I should be looking for, she just shakes her head. “Trust me; you’ll know.”
With that, she exits my room, leaving me to wonder just what in the hell she was talking about.
Because, right now, I don’t know anything.
Nothing, except that I just lost the best thing that ever happened to me.
And, as if to drive home that point, my eyes flick to a photo of me and Carter I slid into the edge of the mirror above my dresser so many years ago. In it, Carter is hunched over, his knees bent so that I could climb up on his back. My smile is bright as I stare at the camera, my laughter clearly written all over my face. And Carter…
Carter isn’t looking at the camera.
No. Carter’s eyes are locked firmly on me, the hint of the smile I can see at the corner of his lips reflecting so much love and happiness that I can’t believe I never saw it back then.
An overwhelming sense of determination washes over me.
Carter might be angry with me right now.
But you don’t just stop loving someone like that overnight.
I’ll give him time.
I’ll give him space.
But, eventually, I’m going to get him back.
Whatever it takes.
Chapter 27
Carter
I need to move.
The thought crosses my mind for the umpteenth time since the day Avery left.
Everywhere I look, she’s there, her bright smile and dark hair gleaming at me from under the expensive lighting.
The kitchen island, the sofa, my bedroom…
There’s not a single square inch of this place she didn’t invade during the time she was here. She marked herself on every piece of my property, and the only choice I have, if I ever want to move past this, is to physically move out of what’s become my own personal hell.
But, even as I think the words, I know they’ll never come to pass. One, because moving fucking sucks, and I refuse to do it again until I have to. And, two, because, even though the reminders of Avery at every turn feel like they’re going to tear me in two, they’re all I have left.
If I have to choose between this and not having her in any capacity whatsoever…well, sign me up for purgatory.
I’ve told myself at least a million times since she left that it’s for the best. That there was no way she ever would’ve stayed with me in the first place. It really was better for everyone that she left so early in our relationship, before either of us really had time to get truly invested.
I figure, if I say the words enough, maybe I’ll finally start to believe them.
A knock sounds on my door, and my head falls forward, my chin slumping
against my chest. Because there’s only one person that can be…
“Open up, Carter. I know you’re in there,” Brandon’s voice booms from the other side of the door.
“Go away!” I shout back.
“Open the damn door, kid. I ain’t even joking.”
“No hablo Inglés.”
“Goddamn it, Carter. Don’t make me go bribe the super.”
I climb up from the couch and head to the door, only because I know he’s not bluffing. And the last thing I need is the superintendent of this building complaining to the manager that my friends are crazy. Hell, with my luck, the guy would take a liking to Brandon and make him a copy of my key, and then I’d really never be able to get rid of the asshole.
I swing open the front door, giving my friend a death glare when I find his smiling face beaming back at me. “What do you want, dickwad?”
“Oh, dickwad. Nice to see you can come up with something a little more clever than asshole every once in a while. I see Tag and I are rubbing off on you.”
“You come here for a reason, B?”
He pushes past me, looking around my apartment like he’s expecting to find something. I continue to stand by the door, holding it open so that he doesn’t get any ideas about staying. When he finishes his perusal of my apartment, he turns to look at me, hands on his hips, his face a mixture of shock and amazement.
“Well, damn. Here I was, expecting to come in here and find a scene out of that TV show Hoarders. I thought there’d be pizza boxes stacked ten feet high and that I’d find you buried under a mountain of dirty clothes or something.”
I shrug. “Nope. I’m fine. So, feel free to leave,” I say, gesturing out the open door with my free hand.
“Not so fast, buddy,” he replies, taking the few steps between us with an easy stride.
His hand reaches over my head, and I’m so distracted by watching his movement that my hold momentarily loosens on the door. His fingers hit the hard wood, giving it a shove and breaking my grip on the knob. The heavy door slams shut, and Brandon grabs hold of my arm and drags me over to the couch.