But the open road no longer held any appeal. I didn’t want an unfamiliar bed or a faceless fuck or lonely miles of highway stretching out endlessly in front of me.
I wanted to be in Claire’s bed, holding on to her. Feeling her hold on to me. Hear her tell me she loves me. Say the words back. Make her a promise and keep it.
But how?
* * *
The next day, Aaron and I worked a job that Zack at the stoneworks had thrown our way. I nursed my self-pity for a couple hours that morning, but when noon came around, I swallowed my pride and asked my brother to come to lunch with me. Because he was a good guy, and because he could see I was suffering, he got in the car without a word.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” I said once we were on the road. “I was an asshole.”
“Yeah, you were. But I get it.”
We drove in silence for a few minutes, then I asked him a question that had been troubling me. “How do you know? How do you know you’re not going anywhere? Or that she won’t?”
“Because I trust her,” he said simply. “And now I trust myself too.”
Exhaling, I shook my head. “I can’t. I don’t know why I can’t, but I can’t. Every single time, I panic. I feel like I’m tied to the tracks of an oncoming freight train.”
“You can’t trust her? Or yourself?”
“Either of us.”
“That’s because you’ve never been shown how. You don’t have any reason to trust anyone because all you’ve seen your entire life is people taking off, starting with Mom and Dad. You learned early on not to trust anyone who’s supposed to care.”
Something had started to twist in my gut, and I didn’t like it. “You think…” I had to work hard to swallow. “You think this goes that far back?”
“Yeah. I do.”
I stopped at a red light. In my mind I heard Claire telling me I’m not her. She knew. She’d seen right through me. “I love her.”
“I know you do.”
“I only left her because I was scared of being a disappointment to her. I was scared she’d leave me.” I took a deep breath. “And I didn’t think I could take it.”
“I know.”
I looked over at him. “I guess that makes me a coward.”
“Nope. It makes you human. You’re a coward if you don’t confront that fear, though. Work through it. Put it behind you so you can be with Claire and neither of you are worried that any moment, one of you is going to walk out.”
The light turned green, and I moved forward. “How?”
“I don’t know if I can tell you exactly. For me, my worst fear was becoming Dad. Failing as a father. I thought it was inevitable.”
“So how’d you get over it?”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it completely, but I stared it down. I finally talked about it at meetings and with Josie, even a little bit with you.”
I nodded, remembering our conversation on Christmas Eve.
“And I think by putting it out there, I took back some of its power over me. By admitting what I’d been scared of, I weakened its grip on my life. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah. It does.” I thought about how much better I’d felt after talking to Claire at the cabin. Maybe I just hadn’t gone deep enough to see what fears were buried there. Maybe I’d been afraid of seeming weak.
“I realized I’m my own man,” Aaron went on as I pulled into the deli parking lot. “I’m more than just the product of some shitty DNA. Yes, I’ve made mistakes, and I’ll probably continue to make them, because I’m human, but not because I’m him. I’m not my father. The past doesn’t have to repeat itself. I’m choosing not to let it—I have that power.”
I turned off the engine. “I wish I felt that way,” I said quietly.
“You can, Theo. All it takes is a hard look at yourself and some honest conversation. I’m here for you. And I bet Claire would be too, if you’d let her.”
I frowned. “I really fucked that up.”
“Hey, nobody understands fucking up better than I do. But guess what?” He was smiling when I looked over at him. “I’m sixty days sober today.”
“Are you really? That’s fucking awesome, Aaron. Congratulations.” For the first time in a week, I felt good about something.
“Thanks. Josie has to work tonight, but I’m cooking a celebration dinner for the girls after my meeting. Want to come? We can talk a little more, if you want.”
“Yeah. I’d like that.” I’d been holed up in my apartment and hadn’t seen the kids in a while. They always made me smile.
We ate lunch, although I wasn’t all that hungry and ended up throwing half my sandwich out uneaten, and went back to the job. I spent the entire afternoon thinking about what Aaron had said. I’d always blamed the family genes for all my shortcomings, but maybe it was time to take a closer look. Maybe I was doing this to myself.
Maybe I hadn’t been born to failure—maybe I was choosing it.
* * *
At Aaron’s house that night, I played with the kids, helped Aaron cook dinner (thanks to Claire, I was no longer totally clueless in the kitchen), and raised a cupcake to Aaron’s milestone. I was proud of him, and I told him so after I helped him get the kids to bed and we were cleaning up.
“Thanks,” he said, loading plates into the dishwasher.
“I mean it. You’ve come a long way, and this is the healthiest I’ve ever seen you.” I brought the girls’ princess cups over to the sink.
“It’s the best I’ve ever felt.”
I exhaled, turning one of the cups in my hand. “I’d like to feel better. I thought leaving Claire would give me some peace, but it hasn’t. I feel worse.”
Aaron nodded. “I know that feeling. When the choice you’ve made was the wrong one, and it just makes you hate yourself more.”
“Exactly.”
“It takes a strong man to admit when he’s wrong and try to make things right. Especially when it means you’ve got to face a few monsters first.”
I nodded slowly. “I’ve kept mine locked up a long time. They’re mad as fuck.”
He chuckled. “Let ’em out. Let ’em do their worst. Then tell them they don’t scare you anymore. Beat the hell out of them.” He glanced at me. “You’re strong enough. I know you are. Look at the way you were able to quit drinking. That was hard, and you did it.”
“Yeah. It was.”
“And it was the right decision.”
Exhaling, I set the cup on the counter. “I really fucking miss her. Everything about her. It hurts.”
“I know. I’ve been there. But I promise you, if you can get past this, things will be even better than they were before. For both of you.”
* * *
I went home that night and thought about the things he’d said.
I’ve watched you make too many bad decisions in your life.
When you love someone, you stay.
You learned early on not to trust.
The past doesn’t have to repeat itself.
It just makes you hate yourself more.
It takes a strong man to admit when he’s wrong and try to make things right.
I could be a stronger man. A better man. Maybe not perfect, but better.
I was dying to call Claire—or better, go see her and hold her and kiss her—but I couldn’t do that just yet.
You’ve got to face a few monsters first.
Lying on my back in the dark, I put my hands behind my head. I stared at the ceiling, but what I saw was the bigger picture of my life. The patterns. The mistakes. The fear. The sabotage. The guilt. The self-inflicted punishment.
I saw a child who grew up wondering why he hadn’t been enough to make his mother stay. Who wondered if anyone loved him. Who wondered if love meant anything at all. Who never felt safe.
I saw a teenager who had everything going for him. Who panicked when things got too hard. Who figured he was destined to turn out a fucked-up failure anyway, and if his ow
n parents hadn’t cared, why should he?
I saw myself at twenty-two, getting out of prison and realizing I’d done more than just lose a year of my life. I’d lost rights, opportunities, and freedom. I’d lost respect, possibility, hope. But I didn’t think I deserved those things, anyway, so I drank to numb the pain.
I saw myself at twenty-five, when Aaron’s first child was born. He’d invited me to come see them, let me hold Ava—me, holding a baby. I’d never forget that day. He’d smiled and placed that red-faced, tiny-fisted, wailing little bird-boned creature in my arms. She was so frail, so small, so innocent. I’d stared at her, and at my brother, in complete amazement. He trusted me to hold her? It had meant everything to me.
I never took another drink.
But looking back, I saw how I’d continued to avoid facing my fears by pretending to be someone else wherever I was. I’d avoided having to commit to anyone by moving around all the time. And I’d convinced myself that I didn’t want anything but temporary, superficial games and good times.
But now I wanted more. I wanted to stay, I wanted to trust, I wanted to love. I wanted to build something strong enough to last.
And I wanted to build it with Claire.
I hoped I wasn’t too late.
* * *
Over the next day and a half, I thought hard about what I could do to convince Claire to give me another chance. To see that I was willing to work on myself. To believe in me. It wouldn’t be easy—for all she knew, I was just going to walk out again the next time I got scared. And there would be a next time. I wasn’t going to pretend I’d never feel that fear of being abandoned ever again, but like my brother said, by admitting it, putting it out there and talking honestly about it with her, I could lessen its hold on me.
But how could I even convince her to have that honest conversation? If I were her, I probably wouldn’t even want to let me in the door. I needed to think of a way to show her I was in this for real.
I was dying to tell her I loved her, but words wouldn’t be enough.
What mattered to Claire? What would prove that I had listened to her well enough to know what it meant to say, I love you and I can make you happy—will you let me?
It came to me while I was watching my nieces, two nights after my conversation with Aaron and ten days after I’d last seen Claire. Josie was working, and Aaron had asked me if I’d mind coming over so he could attend a meeting. I was sitting on the floor trying to read them a story, but they were climbing all over me like a human jungle gym.
“Uncle Theo, Daddy says you build things. Will you build us a playscape in the backyard?” Ava asked, attempting to sit on my shoulders. “We don’t even have a swing.”
“I guess I could.” I set the book down and took her by the hands to help her balance. “But it depends on how long you guys are going to live here.” Recently Josie and Aaron had talked about moving to a bigger house as soon as they could afford it. “We don’t want to build something if you’re not staying.”
And just like that, I knew what to do.
* * *
Thankfully, the next day was Sunday and I didn’t have to work. I skipped the gym and bought the materials I’d need, then I brought them all over to Aaron and Josie’s. After I explained what I was doing, Aaron was more than happy to back his truck out of the garage to give me the work space required, and Josie said she wouldn’t mind the noise out there for a day. She even brought me a little heater so I wouldn’t be too cold, and a thermos full of hot coffee.
“You’re the best,” I told her, taking a sip and setting the thermos on the bench. “Thank you.”
“You sure you don’t want help?” my brother asked. “It would get done faster.”
“Nah.” I picked up his sander. “I want to do this myself. But is there any way you could work for me tomorrow? I know Monday is usually your day off, but I’d like to get this up while she’s at school.”
“No problem.” He clapped me on the back. “You’re doing the right thing.”
As soon as he was gone, I slipped on a dust mask and got to work.
Thirty-Nine
Claire
* * *
After work on Monday, I stopped in at one of the gift shops that had offered to sell my work and dropped off a few pieces—three altered books and two small paintings of birds. It felt a little like leaving my children unattended, but I managed to get out the door without tears, at least. On the way home, I called Jaime.
“I did it,” I said. “I now officially have art for sale.”
“Yay!” she crowed. “I’m so proud of you. Any sales on the Etsy site yet?”
“No, but it’s only been a few days. I’m going to put a few more photos up.”
“Good idea. How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good.” I turned onto my street. “At least about the art. And the sooner I—oh my God.”
“What?”
I slowed my car as I approached my house, whispering as if I might be overheard. “He’s here.”
“Who? Theo?”
“Yes. His car is parked on the street. He’s in the driver’s seat. Oh, God, he saw me. He’s getting out!” I pulled into the garage, my heart hammering. “Quick! What do I do?”
“I don’t know!”
“What if he’s sorry?” In my rearview mirror, I saw him walking up the driveway. “What if he wants another chance?”
“Fuck! I don’t know, Claire! Just—just hear him out. Be strong, but be understanding. Listen to your heart.”
“My heart is currently performing a twenty-one gun salute in my ears. It’s not helping.” Theo appeared at the driver’s side window. “Oh God. I have to go.”
Jaime let out a strangled cry. “OK, but call me as soon as you can! I’m dying!”
“I will.” I stuck my phone in my purse and took a breath. My stomach was jumping all over the place. Strong. Be strong. Put on your armor and don’t let him get past it without a good goddamn fight.
As I pulled on my gloves, he opened the door for me and offered his hand. I hesitated a moment, then I took it, letting him help me out. My legs felt like rubber.
He shut the door behind me. “Hi.”
“Hi.” My body reacted to his nearness as if nothing had gone wrong between us. My stomach fluttered. My breath caught. Goosebumps rippled down my arms. I pressed them to my sides so I wouldn’t throw them around his neck. God, I missed you. Say something—anything—to help me understand.
He shook his head slowly, his eyes drinking me in. “I rehearsed this a thousand times. I had things to open with. Words of apology. Reasons why you should hear me out. But looking at you, all I can think is, She’s so damn beautiful.”
“Not a terrible start,” I conceded stiffly, leaning back against my car for support. “But not good enough.”
“I know. Give me a second.” He exhaled, his breath a silvery puff in the cold, shadowy dusk of the garage. “You were right. The argument we had the morning I left, you were right—I was running away because I was scared. Because I don’t know how to trust. Because I didn’t have the guts to own up to any of it. And I’m sorry.”
“You hurt me.” My bottom lip trembled. “I gave you my heart, Theo, and you stomped all over it.”
“I want it back.” He took my head in his hands, and his eyes pleaded with mine. “I love you. I love you. I’ve never said those words to anyone in my entire life. And I've never said them to you before now because I was scared to give you that kind of power over me. I guarded them, because I felt like handing them over would give you weapons to use against me.”
He loves me! He said it! His words were putting serious chinks in the armor, but still. Weapons? “Theo, I’d never hurt you like that. You should have talked to me.”
“I didn’t know how. So I panicked. Bolted. Tried to convince myself I was doing the right thing, but being apart from you didn’t feel right at all. It just felt miserable.”
He did look miserable. And sincere
. And different—something about the way he was meeting my eyes. I saw no mask on his face, no studied indifference, no panic. Just clarity. Devotion. Truth. I felt myself swaying toward him. “I’ve been miserable too.”
“I’ve done a lot of thinking, Claire. About all the things I’ve been through. The things I never talk about. The things that make me who I am.” His thumbs brushed my cheekbones. “I was wrong to think that by burying them, they wouldn’t affect me. In fact, it was the opposite.”
“I could see it,” I whispered, my throat tight. “But I didn’t know how to help.”
He shook his head. “I wasn’t ready to let you, until now.”
I bit my lip.
“Tell me it’s not too late,” he begged. “Tell me you still love me.”
“I still love you, Theo, but—”
He crushed his lips to mine, and I nearly melted at his feet. Maybe I should have been angry, pushed him away, told him he didn’t have the right. But I’d missed this. The tingle in my toes. The butterflies in my stomach. The shiver up my spine that said yes kiss me yes hold me yes be mine completely because all I want to be is yours.
He lifted his head, and it took me a moment to open my eyes and realize I was still on two feet.
“God, I missed hearing that.” A little smile on his lips. “I missed everything about you. And if you still love me, Claire, please give me one more chance.”
“I want to, Theo, but I’m scared. How do I know you won’t hurt me like that again?”
“You don’t.” His brow furrowed. “Believe me, I tried my damnedest to think of a way to prove it to you. Words I could say. Things I could do. Promises I could make. But it all comes down to this.” He took my hands in his. “I’m asking you to trust me. And I’m going to trust you, too.”
“But what’s different this time?”
“What’s different is that I had to live without you in my life for the last ten days. And I hated it. With you, I’m stronger. Braver. Better.” He spoke a little quieter. “With you, I know I’m safe. I can be who I am.”
If You Were Mine Page 23