Page 30 of Tell Me You Love Me

“I can’t explain my actions.” I swipe my tears and pray Franky’s five-minute timer malfunctions, allowing me longer to get myself under control. “I could. But I won’t. Because the past is the past, and my son is the future. I will not drag him into what used-to-be, all so a couple of grown men can soothe their hurt feelings. I know I hurt you.” I glance down, folding my tissues. “I know it wasn’t fair. Goddddd, Chris, I know it sucks. But it happened, and there’s nothing I can do to change it now.”

“So that’s it, then?” He sets his hands on his hips and tilts his head back to stare up at the ceiling. “You change all our lives, making those decisions for the three of us without so much as ahey boys, we’re trying something new, and now you get to slip away from accountability with ‘I said so’?” He brings his focus back down, slamming me with haunted eyes that redden with emotion. “The discussion won’t be revisited becauseyou say so?”

Words fail me, replaced instead with a dizzying lump nestled in the base of my throat. So I nod. And mop the fresh tears that dribble onto my cheeks.

“Did you know Colin before you left here?” The muscles in his jaw clench and release. “Is that what happened? You met him—however, wherever—and realized you wanted him more than you wanted Tommy? So you hop a bus and head to the big city?”

“No, I?—”

“You were married and pregnant in five seconds flat! Either you knew him already, which implies, at the very least, an emotional affair with the man you ran toward, or you met him the same fucking day you got off the bus, went to bed, and married up right after. Which,” he burns me witha glare, “I gotta say, that girlI used to know, the one whose every fucking breath was dedicated to my brother, I wouldn’t have believed she was capable of somethin’ like that.”

I have no words. No defense. I have nothing helpful to offer because the truths Idohave will only hurt. So, I say nothing at all.

“Are you leaving again once Bitsy passes?”

“Passes?” My heart gives a painful thump, bruising my ribs, surely. “She hasn’t said… she isn’t…” I lick my dry lips and sniffle. “Is it that bad?”

He shrugs. Cold and callous. “She’s not saying. But you know how that Plainview gossip vine works. Word travels fast, and I figured with how she looks, that her condition is kinda serious. You coming back to town basically confirms what I suspected.”

“I don’t know.” My voice crackles and breaks. “She hasn’t said anything. My circumstances changed in New York, and at the same time, she called and asked us to come back. She said she needed help at the house, and I…”I needed to give Colin space, anyway. “Circumstances changed.”

I fold my arms, crossing them over my chest in a kind of defense mechanism. But the movement draws his eyes, the hazel pair latching onto the ring wrapped around my finger.

“You’re married.”

“Yes.”

His nostrils flare, which, to a girl who studied this boy every single day of her youth, means he wants to say some things that might hurt my feelings. But instead of doing so, he clamps them down and chooses something else instead. “Do you love him?”

“It’s a kind of love.” I unravel my arms and link my fingers behind my back instead. “Yes. I love him.”

“You going back to him when you’re done with Plainview?”

“No.” I spin my ring, around and around and around again. “No. He’s moving on with someone else.”

Intrigued, he rocks onto the backs of his heels. “You planning to come see Tommy?”

“No, I?—”

“It would be the right thing to do. Might hurt—you and him—but it’s a bit like a festering sore, don’t you think? It’s infected and weeping, and the wound keeps opening because no one is healing. But maybe if you came by and discuss a truce, things might start to scab over a little bit.”

“A truce?” I lower my gaze and laugh, if only to myself, and barely audible to my own ears. “Tommy Watkins doesn’t know truces. He knowswar. He knows savagery and victory.” Slowly, though it aches my heart to do so, I bring my eyes up again and cling to the man who looks just like the other. It’s not the same, but damn, I could give convincing myself a real try. “Tommy didn’t become a fighter all so he could discuss peace treaties with his opponents.”

“He became a fighter because he’s good at it. Because he doesn’t know how to quit. But that’s just a sport. It’s not who he is in his heart.”

No. I am who he is in his heart. Or at least, I used to be.

“I think it would be best if I kept to myself.” I drop my eyes again. “He wants answers I can’t give, which means his wounds won’t heal. For every contact we have, the infection only grows worse.”

“And knowing that…” He bites out his words as fury battles for dominance. As his temper attempts to override the tight rein he has on it. “Knowing he can’t—he won’t—heal, you’re content keeping your secrets?”

Fresh tears well up and sting the backs of my eyes, but the sound of the storeroom door creaking open and, right after, Franky’s sneakers on the floor gives me all the notice I need. I wipe my nose and slowly nod. “Yes. I’m content. I have to be.”

Disgusted, Chris shakes his head and digs large hands into his pockets. “Not the girl Iused to know.” But he looks to his left and smiles when Franky comes into view. “Was that five minutes already? Went pretty fast.”

Franky crosses no-man’s-land, striding past the desk and stopping by my side, he takes my hand in his. “Felt like forever to me. Why did you make my mom cry?”

“Oh, no, honey.” I sniffle and hurriedly wipe my cheeks. “He wasn’t mean to me. Sometimes people cry because they’re feeling big emotions. Sad or happy. It happens.”

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