Page 75 of Words I Couldn't Say
“Cancer?” The word came out more like a sob than a question. Yet I wasn’t sure I wanted the know the answer.
His eyes softened, and he gave a slight shake of his head. “It’s in remission. The treatments worked. It’s over, done.”
I pushed myself up from the floor and rose to my feet. “Why would you keep this from me? Howcouldyou keep this from me?”
Before he could respond, a thought dawned on me.
“Is that why you wroteThose Three Words? Because you thought you were dying? Just like Trevor?” Tears were now streaming down my face. What had once been a beautiful love story was now nothing but a tragedy. “Was this to show me what I’d thrown away and almost lost completely without having ever known?”
“No, of course not!” he protested then winced. “I mean, maybe it was inspired by it a little bit, but not entirely.”
“All this time, I’ve been working my ass off for you to trust me again. And yet all along you’ve been keeping this from me? How could you?”
“You don’t understand,” he said, but he didn’t offer any sort of explanation. He simply stared at me, a pained expression on his face.
“Then make me understand, Tucker. None of this makes sense. You say you love me, that you never want to lose me, but you kept something this important from me?”
He ran a hand through his hair and then down his face before releasing a sigh. “Why would it matter?”
It was a valid question. One I wasn’t sure I had the answer to. But why wouldn’t Tucker try to make me understand? We stood there in a standoff, neither of us willing to be the first to give in. Finally, I’d had enough. If he wasn’t going to tell me the truth, I could no longer be there.
“I have… I have to go.” Somehow, I was able to push past him and dart down the hallway.
He was hot on my heels. “Ava, wait.” The strain in his voice stopped me in my tracks.
I hesitated, getting one last glimpse of him. “I just need… I need space.”
His laughter was forced. “Fine. Go. Do what you do best. Run away when things get tough.”
His words stung.
I whirled around and thrust the sheet of paper into his hands. “This time, I’m not running. This time,you’vepushed me.”
Tears clouded my vision as I ran from the room, darting out the front door, down the steps, and to my house, where my dad was walking out the front door. He took one look at my face and drew me into his embrace, smoothing my hair out as I sobbed into his chest.
“Ava? Baby, what’s wrong?” Dad’s soothing voice washed over me as he held me in his arms. God, was this déjà vu? Was I destined to repeat the same mistakes over and over again? Just like when I’d run from Tucker after his parents’ deaths, I was doing the same.
“Did you know, Daddy?” I asked, sniffling. “About Tucker?”
His eyes narrowed. “What about Tucker?”
“The…the cancer,” I stammered out between sobs, barely noticing the way my dad stiffened. “Were you there for him? Or was he all alone?”
The thought that Tucker had endured all that horrible treatment alone nearly sent me over the edge. I wanted to go back to him, to comfort him, to apologize for leaving him alone. Yet I was still hurt he hadn’t confided in me. When I pulled back and saw the forlorn—and guilty—expression on my dad’s face, I couldn’t deal with it.
“You knew. And you didn’t think to tell me?” I shrieked. Then I pushed him away from me. I swallowed hard, glaring at him. “You knew how I felt about him. You knew how devastated I was being away from him. You knew that I would’ve been on the first plane home so I could be here.”
“That’s exactly why we didn’t tell you, Ava. You were off living your own life. There was no reason for us to disrupt that.”
I wholeheartedly disagreed. “That was selfish. It should’ve beenmydecision how I reacted to the news. But to keep it from me? How could you?”
My chest heaved as I was breathless from my rant. Dad’s eyes were full of sorrow, perhaps even guilt, but his lips were drawn into a tight line. The sound of a slamming door—coming from the direction of Tucker’s home—was all it took to break the stare between us.
“I will never forgive you.”
Then, before Tucker could chase after me, I swung on my heel and ran in the opposite direction of our treehouse, because the last place I wanted to be was anywhere with memories of us.
I should’ve known he’d find me. It wasn’t like I’d hidden in an exceptionally difficult place to find. I’d only run out of his house five minutes prior, and he’d followed me to the neighborhood park we’d frequented as kids. Okay, so I said I didn’t want to go anywhere with memories of him, but this was the best I could do without my car keys or any running ability.
