Page 7 of Regretting You

“What?” I stare back at him—waiting for a response.

He shakes his head and turns around. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“You can’t look at me like that and not tell me what you were about to say.”

He sighs, his back still to me as he grabs the head of lettuce and sticks the knife into it. “It’s your birthday. I don’t want to bring it up on your birthday.”

“Too late for that.”

He faces me again with a hesitant look in his eye, but he concedes and tells me his thoughts. “You’ve barely spoken to me since I moved back.”

Wow. He cuts right to the chase. I can feel my chest and neck heat from the embarrassment of being called out. I clear my throat. “I’m speaking to you now.”

Jonah folds his lips together, like he’s trying to remain patient with me. “It’s different. Things feel different.” His words tumble around in the kitchen, and I want to dodge them, but the kitchen is too damn small.

“Different from what?”

He wipes his hands on a dish towel. “From how it used to be. Before I left. We used to talk all the time.”

I almost scoff at that ridiculous comment.

Of course things are different. We’re adults now, with lives, and children, and responsibilities.

We can’t just go back to the carefree friendships we all had back then.

“It’s been over seventeen years. Did you think you could show back up and the four of us would fall right back into place? ”

He shrugs. “Things fell back into place with me and Chris. And me and Jenny. Just not with me and you.”

I waver between wanting to duck out of the kitchen and yelling all the things I’ve been wanting to yell at him since he left in such a selfish way.

I take a sip of my wine to stall my response. He’s staring at me with eyes full of disappointment as I formulate a reply. Or maybe he’s staring at me with contempt. Whatever he’s feeling, it’s the same look he gave me seconds before he walked away all those years ago.

And just like back then, I don’t know if his disappointment is directed inward or outward.

He sighs. I can feel the weight of all his unpackaged thoughts.

“I’m sorry I left the way I did. But you can’t stay mad at me forever, Morgan.” His words come out quietly, like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear our conversation. Then he walks out of the kitchen and ends it.

It isn’t until this moment that I’m reminded of the heaviness I used to feel when he was around. Sharing the same air with him sometimes felt stifling back then, like he was selfishly taking more of it than he needed and I was hardly left with any air at all.

That same stifling feeling is back again, surrounding me in my own kitchen.

Even though he’s no longer in the kitchen and the door is swinging back and forth, I can still feel the heaviness bearing down on my chest.

As soon as I stop the swinging kitchen door with my foot, Jenny pushes it back open. The conversation I refused to partake in with Jonah gets shoved to the back of my mind for me to stew over later, because now I need to know everything Clara said to my sister.

“It was nothing,” Jenny says flippantly. “She gave some guy from her school a ride, and he started following her on Instagram. She wasn’t sure if he was flirting with her.”

“What guy?”

Jenny shrugs. “Morris? Miller? I can’t remember. His last name is Adams.”

Chris is in the kitchen now, setting another pan on the stove. “Miller Adams? Why are we talking about Miller Adams?”

“You know him?” I ask.

Chris shoots me a look that lets me know I should know exactly who Miller Adams is, but the name rings no bells. “He’s Hank’s boy.”

“Hank? There are still people named Hank in this world?”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Morgan, come on. Hank Adams? We went to school with him.”

“I vaguely remember that name.”

Chris shakes his head. “He’s the kid who used to sell me weed.

Ended up dropping out junior year. Got arrested for stealing the science teacher’s car.

And a load of other shit. Pretty sure he’s been in jail a few years now.

” Chris gives his attention to Jenny. “Too many DUIs or something. Why are we talking about his son? Clara isn’t dating him, is she? ”

Jenny grabs the pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator and closes the door with her hip. “No. We’re talking about a celebrity named Miller Adams. You’re talking about someone local. Different people.”

Chris blows out a rush of air. “Thank God. That’s the last family she needs to be involved with.”

Anything involving his daughter and a boy is not an easy subject with Chris. He takes the tea from Jenny and leaves the kitchen to go place it on the dining room table.

I laugh once I know Chris is out of earshot. “A celebrity?”

Jenny shrugs. “I don’t want to get her in trouble.”

Jenny has always been quick on her feet. She’s so good at improvising it’s scary.

I glance at the door to make sure it’s closed, then look back at her. “Jonah thinks I hate him.”

Jenny shrugs. “Feels that way sometimes.”

“I’ve never hated him. You know that. It’s just ... you barely know him.”

“We have a child together.”

“It takes thirty seconds to make a baby.”

Jenny laughs. “It was more like three hours, if you really want to know.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t want to know.”

Chris yells from the dining room to let us know the food is ready. Jenny walks out of the kitchen with the burgers, and I plate the rest of the vegetables and take them to the table.

Chris sits across from Jenny, and I sit next to Chris.

Which means Jonah is directly across from me.

We successfully avoid eye contact while making our plates.

Hopefully the rest of dinner will go much the same way.

It’s all I really want for my birthday—little to no eye contact with Jonah Sullivan.

“Are you excited for tomorrow?” Chris asks Jenny.

Jenny nods vigorously. “You have no idea.”

She’s a nurse at the same hospital where Chris is head of quality control. She’s been on maternity leave since Elijah was born six weeks ago, and tomorrow is her first day back.

The front door bursts open, and Clara’s best friend, Lexie, walks in. “You started eating without me?”

“You’re perpetually late. We always start without you. Where’s Clara?”

“On her way, I guess,” Lexie says. “I was going to catch a ride with her, but Mom let me use the car.” Lexie looks around the table, taking in who all is here. She nods at Jonah. “Hey, Uncle Teacher.”

“Hi, Lexie,” he says, seemingly annoyed at the nickname she’s given him.

Jonah got a job at Clara’s school as a history teacher when he moved back.

I still can’t believe he’s a teacher. I don’t ever remember him talking about wanting to become a teacher.

But I guess there weren’t a lot of options in our small East Texas town when he decided to move back and help Jenny with Elijah.

He came from the business world, but all you need to become a teacher around here is a bachelor’s degree and an application.

They’re in short supply thanks to the shitty pay scale.

“You sure you don’t mind keeping Elijah this week?” Jenny asks me.

“Not at all. I’m excited.”

I really am excited. He’ll be in day care starting next week, so I’ve agreed to keep him for the four days Jenny works this week.

Sometimes I’m surprised that Chris and I never had another child after Clara.

We talked about it, but we never seemed to be on the same page at the same time.

There was a stretch where I wanted another, but he was working so much that he wasn’t ready.

Then when Clara was about thirteen, Chris brought up the idea of having another one, but the thought of having an infant and a teenager at the same time seemed a little terrifying.

We haven’t brought it up since, and now that I’m thirty-four, I’m not sure I want to start over.

Elijah is the perfect solution. A part-time baby I get to play with and send back home.

“Too bad I’m still in high school,” Lexie says. “I’d be a great babysitter.”

Jenny rolls her eyes. “Weren’t you the one who put a random dog in my backyard because you thought it was mine?”

“It looked like your dog.”

“I don’t even have a dog,” Jenny says.

Lexie shrugs. “Well, I thought you did. Excuse me for being proactive.” Lexie finally takes her seat after having made her plate. “I can’t stay long. I have a Tinder date.”

“I still can’t believe you’re on Tinder,” Jenny mutters. “You’re sixteen. Don’t you have to be eighteen to even open an account?”

Lexie grins. “I am eighteen on Tinder. And speaking of things that surprise us, I’m still shocked you’ve had the same boyfriend for more than one night. It’s so unlike you.” She looks at Jonah. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Jonah says with a mouthful.

Jenny and Lexie have always had this kind of banter. I find it entertaining, mostly because they’re so much alike. Jenny had a string of boyfriends throughout her twenties, and had there been Tinder back then, Jenny would have been Tinder Queen.

Me, not so much. Chris is the only guy I’ve ever dated. The only guy I’ve ever kissed. That happens when you meet the man you’re going to marry at such a young age. Hell, I met Chris before I even knew what I wanted to study in college.

I guess it didn’t matter, though, because I didn’t last that long in college. Having Clara so young put a hold on any dreams I had for myself.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately. Now that Clara is getting older, I’ve been feeling this gaping hole inside me, like it’s sucking the air out of each day that passes by, where all I do is live for Chris and Clara.

Clara finally walks into the house in the middle of my self-deprecating thought. She stops about five feet from the table, ignoring everyone and everything around her as her finger moves over her phone screen.

“Where have you been?” Chris asks her. She’s only about thirty minutes later than usual, but he notices.