And now, we have no idea. We haven’t spoken a word since this morning before I kissed her for the last time. We only accidentally made eye contact once, and it only lasted mere seconds before we both turnedaway.
“Tucker, baby,” my mother cries. “Will you please stay for thenight?”
“Ma, I can’t. Besides, I don’t livefar.”
“Oh, please. I need to have someone here with me tonight, and your father hasn’t come out of his garage since we got thenews.”
I want to bring up the fact that it was hours after they knew Tanner was dead before they called to tell me.Hours.It wasn’t until after Rae took Maura home post-breakdown, and Hudson stayed with me and Gaige, that my mother finallycalled.
“Fine,” I concede, because shedoesneed someone to stay with her so she doesn’t hit up the local quick mart forbooze.
“And Maura? You’ll staytoo?”
“Of course, Mrs. Bentley. Whatever you need,” she tells mymother.
It’s funny how the tables have turned in such a short amount of time. Mere hours ago I never wanted to leave my bed, a bed that had a sleeping Maura in it. Now I’m dreading sleeping in the same house as her, because I’m going to want to touch her and kiss her and holdher.
And I can’t do any ofthat.
I don’t have to look at Maura or hear her talk to know how sad she feels. I also don’t have to do any of those things to know how guilty she feels, to know how much she’s regrettingus.Because I’m feeling sad and guiltytoo.
But I’mnotregretting us atall.
It doesn’t matter that it’s been over a month since the dreaded party when our feelings for one another surfaced. All that matters now is that we never got the closure with him that we needed. We never got the chance to say how sorry we were—for hurting Tanner, not for falling in love. We never got the chance to earn hisforgiveness.
Because of that, we’re stuck in this perpetual place of not knowing. And it’s killing both ofus.
I wish Tanner had answered all my secret phone calls I made to him after Maura and I had promised to not dwell on it and had listened to my side ofthings.
I wish he hadn’t been a competitiveasshole.
I wish he had never metMaura.
But wishes arepointless.
“I’ll go make the beds for you two,” my mother says, lifting herself off the couch and headingupstairs.
Rather than sitting here in silence with Maura, I search for my stepfather to see what state he’sin.
Walking into the garage, I smell that it’s apparently a drunken state. I know this is where the alcohol is kept locked up because of my mom. I never thought it would be him in here. Guess thingsdochange.
“Aaron?” I say tentatively, turning on the overheadlight.
“Turn that back off, you fucking bastard,” hegrowls.
Ignore him. He’s drunk andgrieving.
I ignore his request and move farther into the garage. He’s sitting on the floor with his back to a workbench, hunched over a bottle of Jack. He smells like vomit and sweat and piss. It’s fucking disgusting. Crouching in front of him, I cautiously grab the bottle from his hands and try to hold back my ownpuke.
He stares up at me with dead eyes. “He’s gone. My son is gone. What the hell am I supposed to donow?”
“I think getting up off the floor and out of your own waste would be a great start,” I tellhim.
He nods and holds his hand out to me. I help pull him up and throw his arm over my shoulder, practically dragging him across the floor since he’s too drunk to walkhimself.
“I’m sorry, Tucker,” heslurs.
“Forwhat?”