UnWanted

by Piper, M.

  “Why not?” he asks again and I furrow my brows at him. “I’m just saying…my sister isn’t like other girls. She goes through guys like crazy because she’s… I don’t know. I can’t explain it. She’s just had shit luck and I think that shit luck has taught her to preserve herself before getting her heart hurt. Like, breaking up with guys before they can break up with her makes it hurt less or something.”

  “You’re saying she’s going to break up with me?” She wouldn’t. This isn’t that type of relationship.

  “I’m saying she misses you. A lot. And she’s miserable when you’re not here.”

  “She tell you this?” I shove my hands into my pockets, uncomfortable at the route this conversation is taking.

  “She doesn’t have to, we all see it.” He pauses. “Just…don’t let her blow it, okay? I think you’re a good guy. One of the best she’s ever had in her life. She needs you.”

  I nod. “I need her,” I mumble just as the door’s opening.

  She steps outside and glances between us.

  “What’s going on out here?” Her confused look bounces back and forth between her brother and I and Lincoln laughs lightly.

  “Just threatening him within an inch of his life if he breaks your heart.” He gives her a brief hug. “Thanks for helping out with Carter today.”

  “I missed him. Gotta make up for time lost, right?”

  “Yep.” He says, then glances at me. “Night, Nico.”

  I watch her stand there as the door closes behind him and she slowly looks over at me.

  “You ready to go home?”

  I smile. “I am,” I whisper, taking her hand in mine and gripping tightly.

  I’m going to do it. When we get back to her place, I’m going to tell her how I feel. There’s no way in the world I’m letting her slip away because I was afraid of rejection. Fuck, I sound like a pansy.

  The drive home is silent and I’m hoping it’s because she’s tired, but the words Lincoln said keep replaying in my head.

  Breaking up with guys before they can break up with her makes it hurt less.

  I have to believe we have more than whatever she’s had with every ex-boyfriend of hers. I have to.

  When we make it inside, I head to the couch and she brings us each a beer, already open for me.

  “Thanks,” I say, setting it down after taking a swig.

  “No problem.” She smiles at me, her eyes searching mine for something.

  “Ten, I have to tell you something.” I shift to face her, her eyes looking deep into mine. My heart’s hammering out of my chest and nerves skyrocketing. I’ve never muttered these words to anyone other than my mom. Not my brother, not my uncle, and definitely not any girl.

  “I love you,” blurts out of my mouth at the same time her beautiful lips are muttering the words, “I’m breaking up with you”.

  Her eyes go wide and I feel like I could vomit.

  “You what?” I say, blinking too much but I can’t honestly believe she just said that.

  “I… you love me?” she whispers. “Love, love?”

  “You’re breaking up with me?” Fuck. Holy fuck.

  “I…” she shakes her head and my rage starts to boil.

  “Reagan, you’re breaking up with me?” My fists clench at my sides and my heart feels like it’s in my throat. “What the fuck…why?!”

  “I can’t do it, Nico,” she mumbles, looking up at me as I stand from the couch.

  “Holy fuck.” I start to pace, hands on top of my head, trying to make sense of this.

  “It’s for the best. You’re never free to be here. Let alone free enough for me to come up there. You’ve got your life. I’ve got mine. And they’re painfully separate,” she whispers the end and her eyes start to glass over with unshed tears.

  “Why the fuck did you let me spend the day with your family, acting like everything was fine? I look like a total fucking tool! When the fuck did you know you were doing this?” I’m whining, I’m sweating, and there’s a fucking knot in my throat and I mother fucking hate it. She doesn’t say anything, she just sits there. God damnit. “I love you, Reagan,” I say with more resolution that maybe I can talk her out of this fucking idiotic move. She nods and I fall to pieces at her next words.

  “I know,” she whispers and I feel like my world is shattering all around me and I’m walking on the glass pieces. I storm down the hall and try to stop my shaking hands as I move into her room. I shove my shit into my suitcase as fast as I can, unsure what’s even happening right now other than I need out of here. I need to breathe. I need to figure out what this means. “Nico, we can still be friends. I don’t—“

  “Don’t be fucking delusional, Reagan,” I blurt, interrupting her. I stop and my jaw ticks. So much I want to tell her. So much I want to yell about.

  But I don’t.

  “I’m sorry,” she says, her head shaking.

  I let out a harsh laugh, my heart ripping through my chest. With legs I’m not even sure will carry me to my car, I grab my bag and storm towards the front of the apartment. When I turn, she’s standing in the hallway, arms crossed in front of her, watching me.

  “Bye, Ten,” I whisper before leaving out the front door.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Ford asks, barging into my apartment.

  Nico left. He left and I haven’t found it in me to move yet. And I’m not sure I ever will again. He really fucking left. I mean, I broke up with him. I told him we wouldn’t work.

  But he didn’t fight for us…

  Holy fuck I’m messed up.

  “Reag?” Ford says.

  “What’s her problem?” Lincoln asks, walking inside and closing the door.

  “I…” I whisper, shaking my head and staring at the floor.

  “Where’s Nico? I bought him this hat.” Ford smiles wide, pulling a Luigi hat out from behind him and I lose it. The tears come. The sobs start. I fall apart.

  Because I pushed away the only person I’ve ever loved.

  And for what? The fact that he didn’t immediately jump at the opportunity to leave his cushy job and nice paycheck just to live closer to me? Or because he’s busy making a living?

  “Oh no,” Lincoln says, walking over to me. His hands go to my arms. “Reag?” he whispers and all I can do is nod. Because he fucking knows what I did. “Oh God, Reagan,” he huffs, pulling me in for a hug. “Why?”

  “Be… Be…” I try to talk but everything comes out a choked sob.

  “He’s gone.” Ford says flat. “Another one bites the dust,” he mutters, making me cry even harder.

  “Dude. Not now.” Lincoln says, then shuffles me over to the couch. He sets me down and grabs a blanket, tossing it over me.

  “Want some whiskey?” Ford asks and I shake my head, trying to dry my face but it feels like for every tear I dry, ten more fall from my eyes.

  My brothers sit with me while I completely lose my shit. I’ve never cried this hard in front of anyone. Not even my mom. I was the younger sister to two very rough and tumble boys. I had to learn to keep up or I’d be left in the dust. Being left behind was never something I took too nicely to.

  When I finally calm myself enough to take a solid breath without hiccupping through it, Lincoln speaks up first.

  “What happened?”

  His words are like a knife to the gut, because I know what happened and it’s all my fault.

  “He told me he loved me,” I whisper, trying to pinch off the tears that keep threatening.

  “Wow,” Ford says, sitting in my chair across the room. “And you said?”

  “I want to break…to break up with you,” I stammer, letting the tears fall again.

  What the fuck is wrong with me? I finally found the one who could have been the one, and I shove him away. Just like that.

  Ford whistles and Lincoln curses, leaning back on the couch.

  “Why… Why are you two here?”

  “Well we were going to see if you and Nico wante
d to go late night mini-golfing. They’re having a party down there for the end of the season. However…” Ford cracks his knuckles. “I guess that’s not going to happen now.”

  “And we can’t even kick his ass, either man,” Lincoln says. “Because he didn’t do shit wrong but fall in love with our sister.”

  The boys chuckle at my expense and I punch Lincoln in the arm.

  “Why’d you do it,” Ford finally asks. “Why’d you break up with him?”

  “Yeah, I thought you were in love with him?” Lincoln adds and I roll my eyes.

  “I don’t know.” I shrug. “I asked him this morning to move here and he ignored it. Every time him moving here came up he ignored it. He doesn’t want to be closer to me… How can we make that work?” I groan, throwing my head in my hands. “I fucked up,” I mumble. “I fucked up so bad.”

  “Yeah, you did.” Ford pulls out his phone. “Where is he now?”

  “On his way back to Chicago,” I whisper, worried I’ll never see him again. I’ll never get the chance to fix this.

  “Why didn’t you say it back, Reag?” Lincoln speaks up.

  I shrug. “I don’t know.”

  “You love him, though.” He says it so firmly, like he’s even pissed I did what I did.

  “I do,” I say.

  “But instead, you broke up with him?”

  “I know,” I mutter. “I know, fuck,” I squeak, lying my head on the arm of the couch.

  “His phone’s going straight to voicemail,” Ford says.

  “Probably blocked all of us,” I whisper. My head’s pounding and I want to curl up and die.

  “He wouldn’t block me. He loves me.” Ford scoffs then pauses. “I mean, he loves you, too.”

  I groan and pull the blanket over my head. I can’t think straight right now. I can’t move. I don’t want to sleep but I don’t want to be awake.

  I don’t even want to be.

  “Hey Nico. It’s me. We’re going on a week and I haven’t heard anything from you. We need to talk. Please. Please, call me back.” I end the call and stare at my phone. Maybe he’s not getting the calls. Or maybe he’s calling back and I’m not getting them. Either way, I’ve never felt like death before now.

  “You ready, sis?” Ford asks, standing in the doorway of his bathroom.

  I came over here to get ready with them since we’re driving to Wren’s art show together. Plus it means I get to help with the twins and I’m starting to grow pretty damn fond of my tiny aliens.

  Mackenzie hates when I call them that, but no matter how old they get they’ll always be those tiny aliens that came out of her.

  “Yep,” I mutter, taking a deep breath and telling myself it’s going to be okay.

  He can’t ignore me the rest of his life.

  Hopefully.

  The car ride is quiet. Mackenzie and Ford both know I’m not up for small talk.

  Work’s been shit this last week.

  My family doesn’t want to be around me when I’m like this.

  Hell, I don’t want to be around me when I’m like this. I don’t want to be like this, but I don’t know how to fix it if he’s not going to talk to me.

  When we park, I help Mack get the kids into the stroller and follow them inside but Wren stops me at the door.

  “What’s up?” I ask, shoving my hands into my pockets. There’s a chill to the air tonight and it feels like it could rain.

  “Before you walk in, just remember I love you.” Her eyes are sparkling with excitement and she takes my hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

  “Okay?” I say, laughing as she pulls me inside.

  Immediately, I see why she looked so worried.

  “Wren,” I gasp, my hand flying to my face.

  “Is it ok? I mean…it’s gotta be ok. Because it’s already done. But if it’s not ok, I won’t sell them.”

  “Sell them?” I mutter, walking closer to the first painting. “Wren… I’m speechless.”

  I stare at the painting of myself from years ago and still recall the memory. I remember that day like it was yesterday. My twentieth birthday. Wren hadn’t been in my brother’s life that long when we had this party. The ones following take my breath away more than the first. As I walk along, Wren’s perfectly depicted the major points in my life. Fifteen paintings in all, and the last one stops me in my tracks.

  “Wren,” I whisper. “No.” I shake my head, tears forming in my eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she says softly. “I was going to pull it from the show but it’s the centerpiece of all of it. It’s what makes the show what it is.”

  “Why’s the show called Amabile?” I ask, glancing back at the paintings.

  “It’s Italian for ‘loveable.’” She shrugs. “I thought it was fitting,” she whispers.

  “Because he’s Italian,” I mumble, unable to tear my eyes from the last painting. Her centerpiece.

  “Well, Italian-American. I’m sure there’s Italian somewhere in his blood. But yes. And it sounds pretty.” She rubs my back. “Sorry about not telling you. I wanted it to be a surprise. I thought having you two here would be cute… But…”

  “I got it,” I stop her from making this even more horrible. “You’re selling these?” My eyebrows pinch together. Who would want a painting of me in their house?

  “I’ve got offers in for three of them so far,” she says, nodding.

  I fall silent, walking the gallery again, taking in each picture. It’s crazy she did this without me knowing. The picture she took in my store a few weeks back, when I was wearing the brightest smile because I was about to do God knows what with Nico over Facetime, is painted in bright beautiful sweeps and makes me look beautiful. Happy. The picture she took of my brothers and me on the day Ford’s babies were born portrays me as the best aunt there is. I don’t feel like I looked this…happy. Then there are the darker ones. She must have slipped some photos of me when I would come in and visit on break from Chicago. Or the weekend she and Lincoln came up to visit me. The mood of those is drastically different than the mood of the others. The ones when I’m with family.

  Or Nico.

  The entire fucking show is me.

  “I can take that last one down,” she says.

  “No,” I whisper. “But it’s mine when the shows over.”

  “Of course.” She gives my hand a squeeze and Ford walks up, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

  “It’s perfect, right?” he says, nudging me.

  “Yeah,” I mutter, unable to rip my eyes from the paintings. “So perfect.”

  I pull my phone from my pocket to make sure I didn’t miss anything and my shoulders slump when there are no missed calls or texts. It’s becoming an addiction I need to learn to break.

  “He’ll come around,” Ford whispers.

  I hum, sliding my phone back into my pocket, and my eyes find the final painting again.

  The one of us. Nico and I. I’m not entirely certain when Wren found us like this but it looks like we’re on my brother’s back porch and his arms are wrapped around me. The smile on my face as I look up into his face…it’s real. His arms are tight around me and the sun it setting over us. It’s beautiful. It’s perfect. It’s love.

  And I can’t be here anymore.

  “I need to head out,” I blurt, walking away from the group.

  “You okay?” Lincoln says, finding me walking out the front door. The tears are about to spill over and I nod furiously, needing out of here.

  One room, full of reminders that I fucked my life up.

  I fell in love. Then I ruined it.

  I push my way outside and take a deep breath, leaning against the building.

  “She does good work,” Lincoln says, startling me. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about it. She threatened no sex for a month if I let it slip.” He chuckles but I don’t.

  “I didn’t know you followed me out here,” I say, wiping at my eyes. He leans against the wall next to me and shoves his hands
into his pockets. “Why can’t I keep anyone in my life, Lincoln,” I mutter.

  “I can’t answer that for you, little sis,” he says. “But I saw the love on your face every time you talked about him. Every time you were near him.”

  “I can’t get a hold of him, Lincoln. I think it’s really over,” I whisper, pain radiating through my entire body. “This feels horrible,” I say.

  “So try harder, Reagan. You’ve never been one to lie down and take it when something isn’t right. Why start now?” He raises his eyebrows at me and shrugs. “You’re two hours from his place, right? It’s Friday night. No work until Monday. What’s stopping you?”

  I blink a few times and nod. “Yeah. You’re right.” My eyebrows furrow. Could I really do it? Could I show up at his place after what happened?

  “Hey guys,” my dad says, stepping outside. “That’s some of her best work in there,” he says, watching me carefully.

  “She’s so talented,” Lincoln agrees. “Words don’t even express how proud I am of her.”

  “You should be, Lincoln. I know I am,” my dad says, then looks at me with pity in his wrinkled eyes. He’s aged more than I’d like to admit in the last few years.

  I can safely say my dad has a better relationship with my brothers than me. Ours is strained by many attempts at me trying to get out of his house and failing miserably. He’s put up with a lot when it comes to his only daughter, so when his eyes hit mine and I see the pity in them I almost break again. He walks over to me and wraps his arms around me.

  “You’re amazing, Reagan,” he whispers, pulling back. “But you’re also stupid for letting that boy get away. That girl in those paintings? Those happy, carefree paintings? Nico did that to you.”

  “I know. Trust me.” I nod, drying my eyes.

  “It’s not too late, you know.” He sounds so confident but I know better.

  “It may be. He won’t answer my calls or texts.”

  “My grandma used to tell me all the time some people are in your life for a season and some are in it for a reason.” He smiles. “Your mother was in my life for a reason. Because I couldn’t, as you call it now, ‘adult’ without her.” My dad stops and laughs, then pins me again with those pity filled eyes. “Reag, Nico’s not just another season. You’ve gone through more seasons than we get here in the Midwest in a year. He’s your reason. He brought you back to us. He brought our little girl back, happy, smiling… Nico is your reason, Reagan. Don’t let him get away this easily. You screwed up, yeah.” He nods. “But you can still fix it.”