Page 4 of Falling Backwards (The Edge of Us #1)

LUKE

I’ve gotten better sleep this time.

Paxton’s couch is pretty decent, and no stressful phone calls came while I was trying to rest.

However, I do wake up to brighter sunshine than I’d like after how late we stayed up—and to text messages from someone who has me thinking about Maggie way earlier in the day than I planned on.

Not that Jayden mentions her or anything to do with her.

His texts simply say he’ll be in town soon and he wants to catch up.

It’s been quite a while since we’ve done much talking or visiting; he’s been focused on college for a long time and we’ve naturally started growing distant from each other.

But we were much closer in high school, so he was right there when I finally made Maggie’s acquaintance…and that whole plan had been his idea.

‘That whole plan.’

My stomach dips unpleasantly at the fact that, as cold as it sounds, a plan is exactly what it was.

So yeah. Whenever I hear from my old friend—or even think of him—I often end up with Maggie on my mind too.

I don’t feel like following her knotted-up thread, though.

I push memories of her big green eyes out of my head and tell Jayden I’m down to hang out when he shows up.

Then I get off the couch and start hunting down my shoes and keys.

My work shift starts with weekend brunch pretty soon.

I need to be on my way.

Paxton doesn’t appear to be awake by the time I’m good to go, so I don’t bother trying to tell him I’m leaving.

I just lock up behind me and head out.

He’s sure to come by Lucent later anyway; brunch hours don’t require reservations like dinner hours do and he would probably die for our French toast.

What a goofy dude he is.

He really did throw back a bunch of drinks last night in honor of his broken PlayStation 4.

We had a good time.

Same as me, he’s not a shitty drunk—quite unlike Jayden, actually.

To tell the truth, it’s something of a relief that Jayden has been working on a medical degree many hours away, because I don’t miss the moods he descended into when we partied together.

Guy knows how to turn fun into a headache in a way that doesn’t involve being hungover.

He is good at creating hangovers, too, though.

I always managed to deal with it, and I reckon I always will.

It’s temporary, you know? These days, it’s just an evening or two.

And catching up is something friends have to do when they’ve grown apart and they don’t see each other much anymore; in the grand scheme of things, a headache isn’t the worst.

Outside, the sun hasn’t been up quite long enough to melt away the overnight frost.

Everything glitters silvery-white in the sunshine, and I have to say it looks cool as hell.

I like this time of year.

I think it stems from when my dad was still around.

Escaping the house when he and my mom were arguing did a lot more to clear my head when the air was cold than when it was warm.

It was hard enough to breathe under that roof, so my lungs were always grateful for the sharp chill that could fill them once I was out in the open.

In my car, I have to spend a minute letting my windshield clear up, so I mess around on my phone while I wait for that—

—aaaand speak of the devil.

I can’t see the incoming text in full from the notification at the top of my screen, but beneath the unfamiliar number is, ‘I insist you change your mind. The address is….’ I assume it’s my dad telling me where the reunion will be taking place.

Dropping my phone to my lap, I complain out loud.

“What part of me telling you, ‘I’m not going,’ was hard to understand?”

I don’t know why he would even bother with this after how our call went.

…No, wait. I think I do know why he would, because I’m recalling something he said at the very end of the call. It was what pissed me off way more than anything had a right to so early in the day.

He told me family is important.

He told me family is important as if I’m the one who broke ours up. As if I’m the one who has a history of being selfish. As if it’s selfish in the first place for me not to want to spend time with someone who has only let me down.

I guess family is so important that you’re never allowed to choose anyone, even yourself, over it—unless you’re him.

That was when I snapped.

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Enough!”

he tried to thunder back at me.

“Grow up, Luke! I know you’ve been angry, but it’s time to move on. This reunion is bigger than you as an individual. Show some respect for where you came from!”

“Oh, I’ll show respect for that,”

I assured him bitterly.

“Soon as we get off the phone, I’m gonna call Mom and thank her for teaching me how to be a man.”

He didn’t like that either.

But I don’t like that mentality he brought up.

In fact, I hate it.

So many people twist that view of family into something manipulative.

Same as anyone else, your relatives don’t deserve your undying loyalty and love if they’re people who do bad things without remorse.

Having blood in common with someone shouldn’t give them unlimited free passes to treat you poorly without consequence; it shouldn’t mean you owe them forgiveness.

In truth, I didn’t call my mom after I hung up with my dad.

It was too early.

And to further my truth-telling, I also forgot to call later as the day went on.

However, right now should be a good time, so I continue to ignore my dad’s text message and give her a ring.

She answers with her usual.

“Hi, honey!”

“Hey, Mom,”

I reply, smiling.

“Good morning. What’s up?”

“Good morning! Oh, you know me—just drinking my coffee!”

“Well, obviously!”

We laugh. She loves coffee and drinks it throughout the day. I don’t know how she does it; when the need for it strikes me, a single cup will suffice. But I’ve never been a parent, huh? Maybe that’s got something to do with it.

“What about you, hmm?”

she asks.

“What’re you doing?”

“Just got up and left Pax’s place. I have to work in a little while.”

“Ooh, brunch!”

“Yes, ma’am! Come by if you want!”

She sighs longingly.

“Dang, Luke. I just might. But tell me about your night! Did you boys have fun? And how was your day yesterday?”

I give her all the updates she wants.

Except for the ones involving Maggie.

All my mom knows about her is that we work together, and she only knows it as a passing background detail, not because Maggie ever comes up in conversation.

I’ve never even talked specifically about the time we spent together back in high school, which was no small amount—before my jackassery got exposed, that is.

I’m touched by a flickering memory: the shyest of kisses on my lips.

I vehemently push it away for more than one reason, not the least of which is that I’m on the phone.

Even though I’ve always chatted with my mom about most things, Maggie has forever been in the category of Too Embarrassing To Talk About.

I haven’t wanted my mom to be as aware of my old blunder as I am.

It’s bad enough that I’m not proud of what happened.

There’s no need to add in how disappointed she would also be.

So after I’m done telling her about my day yesterday, all she ends up saying is that she’s sorry about how work went and mad about my dad’s call—and whatever text he sent me a minute ago.

Yeah, the majority of my feelings towards him are something else I’ve never told her about, but she still knows how he is.

“What part of you saying you’re not going to the reunion was hard for him to grasp?”

she echoes my earlier sentiments. Then she scoffs.

“But then again, it’s always been his way or his way, hasn’t it? He couldn’t care less what other people want.”

“Nope.”

I spend a moment appreciating that we’re still in this together, and then I voice it.

“Thanks for being both of my parents after he left and for giving us a happier life. You’re the best, Mom. It wasn’t easy at first, but we’re in good shape ’cause of how loving you are and how hard you tried.”

“Aw, Luke.”

Her voice instantly softens. “Honey….”

If we were talking in person, here is where she’d give me an almost-tearful smile and reach up to pat at my face.

She says.

“I wanted happiness for me, but I wanted it for you a million times more. I’d do anything for you.”

This time, her sigh sounds thin.

“It took me too long to prove that to you because I kept trying to hang on to him. Kept thinking our problems could be fixed and that you’d be able to keep your mom and dad in your life, and I’d be able to keep my husband. You’ll never know how sorry I am for what we put you through.”

And here is where I’d hug her.

“It’s okay,”

I promise her.

“I’m sorry for what he did to you. You deserved so much better. But like I said, things are good now, and I’m beyond grateful for that and for you.”

“Mmm.”

I can hear her smiling.

“I’m beyond grateful for you, too, my love. And I’m proud of who you are.”

Once again, Maggie comes drifting into my mind.

Once again, I shove her away.

“I’m proud of who you are, Mom.”

I catch the time on my dashboard and notice my windshield is clear now.

“But hey, I gotta get off the phone so I can drive. I’m sorry we haven’t talked very long!”

She audibly perks back up.

“Oh, now, don’t apologize! How long do you work, though, in case I do wanna come by?”

Our call wraps up shortly with I-love-yous and the possibility of a brunch visit from her. Then I hit the road.

Yeah, aside from me despising the idea of being like my dad, she really is the reason I’m on a good path.

She taught me compassion and respect, taught me to be responsible.

She didn’t hound me to do this or that in my life—all she has ever wanted for me is happiness and peace, like she said.

I’m not perfect, but I try to be better the older I get because she passed so much of the importance of that on to me.

Indeed, if she did learn about me and Maggie being at such odds, she wouldn’t approve of that girl’s actions any more than she’d approve of mine.

She’d give both of us a talking-to, not just me.

The knowledge makes me chuckle, honestly.