Page 27

TWENTY-SEVEN

WORDS ARE HARD

Theo

The weight of the day was enormous, and I felt like it was laying directly on my chest.

I’d betrayed my best friend, lost the one woman I’d ever truly cared for, and been arrested and held on trumped-up charges all in one day.

Laying on Robbie’s couch, staring up at the ceiling, and watching the light of the passing cars dance along the walls, I couldn’t stop my mind from replaying the entire day. But with the first flash of Natalie’s face, crestfallen expression, and eyes tender with hurt, I couldn’t stop the onslaught of memories from the past few months.

The good, the bad, the struggle, the desire—it all flitted behind my eyes.

A good part of my day had been spent in an interrogation room. When I wouldn’t say anything and finally they heeded my demand for a lawyer, they gave me my one phone call, which I’d used to call Robbie.

He found an attorney, and I waited a few hours for the guy to arrive. After he did, things began moving faster. They had to check my alibi and quickly realized that I could not have been at my mother’s house. One phone call to the restaurant and another to the movie theater—the smallest amount of investigating required—and they had their answers.

Once the attorney arrived, Officer Needledick disappeared, likely realizing that his and my mom’s plan had been foiled. It had been a half-cocked plan in the first place, but I would’ve loved to have seen the angry look on his face when they let me go.

But the time I’d spent in that quiet, comfortless room, I’d spent alone with only my thoughts as my company. And they were really shitty company.

I thought about the people in my life, especially those that I truly let in, and the list was very short. Both by design and due to events that were completely out of my control.

Robbie and Ryder had been on the list for years, their positions cemented and unchanging no matter what.

Natalie was a new, surprise addition, and rounded it out at three. Three people was all I had.

The moment my dad left, followed by my brother, and when my mom began looking at me as a burden unless I was financially contributing to her habits, they fell off the list. I wished I could have discarded them as easily as they had me, but that wasn’t how it happened.

It took years, but I finally decided I had no room in my life for people who didn’t want to permanently be there.

Investing time in someone who could so easily walk away was counterproductive and a waste of time. They could one day wake up and decide I wasn’t worth it, especially with my airplane hanger full of baggage.

Anyone was capable of it. A shared past, love, familial relation, none of it was enough to keep a person from leaving if they really wanted to. My loving family taught me that.

The list never expanded because it was easier to never let people in. A shrink, if I saw one, would probably tell me I had trust issues sprinkled with a large dose of abandonment issues. I was self-aware enough to realize that.

But it was hard to be abandoned when you didn’t give people the power to abandon you.

Letting people get close enough to have that kind of power over me, to hurt me if they decided to walk away, was what I’d been trying to avoid for the past six years.

But it would hurt more than I could imagine if Ryder walked away. It would be agony, pure and simple.

And losing Natalie sounded like the worst kind of torture. Like what it might feel like to walk around with my heart shredded and torn from my chest, hanging outside of my body, still connected only by the memories of our few months together.

Fuck. I’d turned into a goddamn sap, and yet I wouldn’t change it for anything if I got to keep her.

But I couldn’t forgive myself—even if Ryder somehow forgave me—if Natalie and Ryder were estranged because of the choices we made. Or the desire I’d willingly given into, ignoring all the horrible possible outcomes for a taste of her.

I couldn’t regret her, but I wouldn’t be the reason that they lost each other either. The way Ryder walked away tonight, I worried that was exactly what would happen.

Anxiety turned my gut, but I felt steadfast in my decision. I sat up on the couch and reached for my phone on the table in front of me. Before I lost my nerve, I unlocked it and tapped my best friend’s name. It rang once, twice. It made it almost three full rings before he sent me to voicemail.

I’d expected as much, so I didn’t let it deter me. I ignored the twinge in my chest and opened our text thread. Our last text was from a little more than twenty-four hours ago. He’d sent me a video of some guys acting stupid, and I’d promptly responded with a text that said, “us.” He’d sent back a laughing emoji, and then he’d shown up in Natalie’s bedroom.

With a deep sigh, I stared at the blank screen and the flashing cursor for so long my eyes went dry. I was too in my head. There were so many things I wanted to tell him, but every thought sounded worse than the last.

Words were hard. And rather than spend any more time second-guessing it, I started typing, hoping Ryder would understand.

It took some convincing, but Robbie finally agreed to drop me off at Natalie’s to get my truck and extra clothes when I knew she’d be at work.

The night before had been the longest night of my life. I’d been awake for most of it, staring at my phone and waiting for a response from Ryder that never came.

Now, I was sitting in my truck, parked a few houses down from Natalie’s. I was behind another, larger truck where she wouldn’t be able to spot me. But where I could see her.

It was a little past six in the evening, which meant she should be home any minute.

I felt like a fucking stalker, but I couldn’t help it.

Although Ryder wasn’t home, I wanted to give them the space they needed to fix their relationship without me in the way. They deserved that much, but I couldn’t leave without getting one last glimpse at her.

Just when I thought all was lost and she’d decided to change up her schedule, her car pulled down the street. She parked in her usual spot in the driveway and climbed out.

I held my breath as she rounded the car and collected her bags from the passenger seat.

She did so efficiently, grabbing a bag in each hand and bumping the door closed with her hip. Her hair was thrown in a messy bun at the top of her head, and her black coat was pulled tight around her. I was still too far away to make out more than those few details.

She walked up the walkway and climbed the stairs, and I swore the further she got from me, the more wrong it felt. Our inexplicable connection was pulling at my chest and telling me we were too far.

The front door shut behind her.

For several seconds—or maybe it was minutes, I couldn’t tell—I stared at that front door. The green door with the gold knocker. The flowers that were wilting in the cold but had once been vibrant pinks and reds surrounding it. It was everything that had begun to feel like home.

Even thinking the word made my throat constrict with emotion.

Lifting my hand to put the truck in gear and finally leave, I stopped when my phone began ringing. One swift glance and the device was in my hand. I shouldn’t have, but before I could stop myself, I was jamming the “answer” button. I didn’t say hello, let alone breathe.

She broke the silence first. “Theo,” Natalie murmured tentatively. And my entire body relaxed at the sound of my name on her lips.

“Baby girl,” I whispered without thinking.

I heard her small, sharp intake of breath, and I internally chastised myself for the slip. Not knowing exactly where she stood—or where we stood—the term of endearment probably wasn’t appropriate.

“I—uh,” she stuttered. “I wanted to call and check in.”

Her voice sounded so sad, I had to close my eyes and collect myself before I could respond. But she spoke again. “Your truck is gone,” she said.

As usual, I stayed silent. Only I didn’t want to. I wanted to tell her about everything I was thinking, no matter how chaotic, jumbled, and messy it was. But I couldn’t.

“But it was here this morning. And I have a feeling if I go upstairs, your room will be empty, too.” She choked on the last words.

“Yes,” I said, refraining from further explanation.

“You didn’t have to leave,” she whispered, and those soft words were so genuine and unbidden that I felt them crack me open, leaving me raw and exposed.

“I did,” I finally managed to say after several seconds. I swallowed hard and forced the next words out. “You and Ryder need to fix things. That’s what’s most important right now, and you won’t be able to do that if I’m still living there.”

She was silent for so long I’d thought she’d hung up until she cleared her throat.

“You’re right,” she said, then added, “but I didn’t want you to leave.”

I would give anything to stay , I thought. But I choked the words down, worried that anything more I added would only make it harder for her. Harder for both of us.

“Do you have somewhere to go?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed, my voice hoarse with emotion. “I’m going to stay at Robbie’s for a little while.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

More silence and I swore I could hear her crying, which was confirmed when she sniffled and cleared her throat. Instinctually, I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to take away the pain and shield her from being touched by it ever again.

“Bye, Theo,” she said, and I was gripping my phone so hard I nearly shattered it.

I hated how final it felt and how definitive that word sounded. I searched for anything else to say that didn’t make me want to barge into that goddamn house and never fucking leave.

“I can’t say goodbye, Natalie. This isn’t goodbye,” I ground out before hanging up the phone and throwing it down on the passenger seat. I threw the truck in drive and sped down the street. Hoping it wasn’t the last time I saw that house or the last time I heard her voice.