Page 18 of After All This Time

This is what it feels like to actually die of shame.

Eventually, we'll laugh about this, but the fact that I used the damn thing hours earlier? Yeah, no. Too fucking soon.

At least Wheatus is here to save us from ourselves. "Teenage Dirtbag" blares from the speakers, giving us the perfect backing track for the uncomfortable silence.

"You gonna hit me with the silent treatment all day?" Tobias's voice cuts through the air as he leans over to turn down the music.

"No."

"So we're going with one-word answers instead?"

The bastard's actually enjoying this—I don't even need to look at him to know there's a smirk stretching across his annoyingly perfect face.

I let out a long, dramatic sigh, sinking back into the soft leather seat. "I'm fine. Just let me die of embarrassment in peace," I grumble, but I crack faster than I'd like."So where are we going?"

"Café Luxe," he replies, his hand resting casually on the steering wheel. "Not my favorite place, but Tessa's obsessed with their smoothies—which I don't get, because they taste like you're swallowing a mouthful of sugar."

"You've always been like that with anything sweet."

"And you've got this ridiculous sweet tooth, which should not have you looking like that." He waves his free hand vaguely in my direction, still not bothering to look at me.

Now that gets my attention, and I'm tempted to milk the compliment for all it's worth. Because when the universe hands you an unexpected ego boost in the middle of a shame spiral, you squeeze every last drop out of it.

"What do you mean?" I turn to face him, watching the muscle in his jaw do that flexing thing.

I'm already having a day here, and the last thing I need right now is jaw porn.

"I've seen you inhale cake like it's the last time you'll ever eat it and then finish mine, and you still look like you do."

"You can't leave cake. That's just dumb." I shake my head, and a smile appears at the corner of his lips. "What kind of monster wastes perfectly good dessert?"

His smile widens, and he drags a hand along his jaw. Finally, his gaze flicks my way. "Speaking of dumb shit, our parents' anniversary is next month."

"Are you going?" I ask.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Of course you do." I catch his gaze again, but he doesn't hold it for long.

"Are you going?"

"Can you imagine my life if I didn't? My mom's a pain in the ass, and she'd never let me hear the end of it if I missed it." I say it lightly, but guilt creeps in as the words leave my mouth. Complaining about my mom too much in front of Tobias feels almost… wrong.

His mom left years ago, long before I ever met him. She packed her bags, walked out the door, and never looked back. Not a phone call, not a letter—nothing. Tobias has never spoken about her. Not once. Not a whisper of her name—not even when he's drunk enough to let other truths slip.

Everything I know about her comes from my mom's conversations with his dad. But even then, they're only fragments. According to David, she couldn't handle being a mom. The responsibility of taking care of the life she brought into the world became too much for her, and she just fucked right off. She exchanged bedtime stories for freedom, school lunches for independence, and her son's love for… well, what exactly? A chance to pretend she never created something so unbelievably perfect?

Fucking coward.

What gets to me most is that she didn't even try. She never gave her son a second thought, never cared enough to wonderabout the boy she left behind or the kind of man he grew into. And I hate her for that.

Because he's beautiful—inside and out.

She'll never know how fiercely he protects the people he loves or how he carries the weight of his past with quiet strength. She'll never know the way his eyes light up when he's teasing someone he cares about or how his laugh can pull you out of the darkest places.

She doesn't deserve him. She never did.

"If you're going, I'll go with you, Mills, but only for the free alcohol."

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