Page 84 of The Heartbreak List

Theo

“Thestarsaresoclear tonight.” Indy pours hot chocolate into plastic cups from the flask we packed in the back of the truck, while I put together a small fire on the shore. The lake water ripples with the slight breeze coming in.

I glance up at the navy sky before my gaze drifts to her. The stars are bright, but she’s brighter. She seems to glow when she’s happy. Even with how hard every day is for her, she doesn’t let it dull her enthusiasm or make her bitter. Being with her this past week… falling asleep with her in my arms every night…

My chest expands. My heart beats strong. Her warmth has brought me back to life. “Yeah, they are.”

The flames spark and grow.

She purses her lips like she has more to say. I’m sure she does after Brooke stopped by the bar on her way out of town earlier. But tonight’s bucket list mission is to stay up until the sun rises, so we have plenty of time.

I put down the seats and lay out a thin foam mattress in the back of the truck. We sit side-by-side on the tailgate while we drink our warm cocoa. She has her notebook and a pen in her lap. We’ve crossed off some things and added others.

Tiny embers shoot up into the sky like fireflies.

They found Nelson at a motel on the outskirts of town. Brooke’s taking him home with her, and he’s agreed to start therapy. That’s why she came to the bar tonight. To let me know I didn’t need to be watching my shadow. Luckily I happened to be on shift when she showed up this time.

It was a bittersweet visit. We both miss Cooper. But while I wandered aimlessly from one fight or drink or pill to another, Brooke went to therapy. She worked through her grief and set up a foundation in her sister’s name. She went to college. She made a life that she’s happy in. Even got married.

She told me she forgave me a long time ago for my part in Cooper’s death. Wants me to forgive myself. And to look her up if I’m ever back home.

Her last words to me before she left were, “If you ever visit, let’s have dinner. Mom would love to see you.”

Perhaps it’s time to consider counseling. Plan ahead for what’s to come when Indy’s gone. I got the name and number for a therapist from Pez before we left the bar tonight. One he and Ramzi see. It’s on a card in my back pocket.

Tomorrow might be the day that I finally make a call that should have been made years ago. Back then I pushed everyone away. I could only focus on what I’d lost. This time with Indy has brought me a different perspective. Every day that I get to share with her is a gift. It’s not guaranteed. But that only makes the time we have more precious.

She rests her back against the side of the truck. Tucks her toes under my thigh. “Do you ever think about going back home?”

And there it is. The question I’ve been waiting all night for her to ask. I wrap my hand around her ankle and lift her foot into my lap.

She spent the evening with me at the bar. Joked with Pez and talked to Lucas. Took a spin on the dance floor with Heath. And learned how to make a mocktail with Wade while I talked to Brooke.

I’m not surprised that she overheard some of our conversation. My stomach turns. “Sometimes. I miss Shae. Miss my parents. But it’s difficult when you’ve run as hard as I have. When you do what I did…sometimes there’s nothing to run back to.”

“I can’t believe they wouldn’t want to see you.”

I massage her foot. Press my fingers into the muscles. Smile at her pink toes. “Smiley faces?”

“Uh-uh. You’re not getting out of this so easily.” She leans over to shove my shoulder.

I capture her elbow. The kitten in the teacup temporary tattoo has faded. It feels like a measure of our time. The more it fades, the less we have. It’s not enough. I want more time. I wish I could show her all the things that she wants to see in this world. “Give me that pen.”

“Why wouldn’t your family want to see you?” She offers me the pen.

I take it from her. Uncap it. Start by drawing a dot on the top of her foot. One dark spiral that I wish alluded to more time. Slowly, I add to it. “My parents tried to reach out to me for a while.”

In the early days they still had hope. They thought they could reach me if they tried hard enough.

“After I did time, I went home. My dad gave me a job. My mom tried to love me enough that we could pretend that everything would be okay. But nothing could ease the pain. Or stop it from being my fault. I started drinking heavily. Heavier than I do these days. Started taking pills. They helped for a little while.” I concentrate on the way the nib glides across her skin. On the dark lines and loops that I’m inking on top of her skin. “I stopped going to work. I started pushing everyone away. I moved on to harder stuff. I overdosed for the first time.”

She reaches out and wraps her fingers around my wrist. Her gaze is full of compassion.

Sometimes you have to let your past out in pieces. Slowly, so you don’t scare the person you care about away. Other times you have to tear open your heart and feel the agony in order to let it go.

Telling Indy about my past hurts like hell. But there’s this sense of hope that it won’t be quite so bad on the other side. The drawing becomes more concrete as I move up her leg. More swirls and lines become roses mid-calf. “I told my parents I’d get help. I’d quit. A month later I overdosed a second time. A week after that a third.”

She covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh, Theo. I’m so sorry.”

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