Page 20 of Wild Child
Breath fled my chest. Without knowing the details, I saw where this slowly moved. Saw how the pieces stacked together. How the dominos were about to fall. A fluttery feeling had become my heart. If it came together the way I imagined it would, I made a grave mistake three years ago.
Dev kept going, even though I wanted to ask him to stop. It felt like we careened down a train track and couldn’t stop. My stomach felt like a wrung-out old rag.
“The Marines offered a $5,000 sign-on bonus if I enlisted with the infantry for six years. So I signed the damn paper and gave the bonus to my parents. They were able to come up with the rest and keep the house. Once I got a paycheck, I tried to send money home, but they wouldn’t take it. Dad’s pride barely allowed him to take the $5,000. Eventually, Dad found a job he can do without standing all day, which helped. Without me there taking up gas money and food and other stuff, they were able to make ends meet.”
He exhaled a long breath. “But the debt still remained, as did their pride. So, I approached Maverick with an idea to be a blind investor for my mom. He and Mark Bailey went to her with the idea to renovate her salon, then slowly offer more things, like a spa. Apparently, Mark had been trying to open a spa but, because Stella still hadn’t agreed with him on it, it never happened. Anyway, the plan worked. She took the bait and made more money. Their debts went down.
“I sent Mark more money, and Mark convinced her to open another business in Jackson City. That increased her revenue more so that they could upgrade the house a bit and start Dad with physical therapy. The house desperately needs improvements, and they’ve been able to start into them. They’re almost out of the worst debt now and back to just the mortgage.”
I silently agreed that their house needed a lot of work, then almost laughed. The shining new fridge suddenly made more sense. Millie had cried when they delivered it, clutching her Bible and muttering prayers of thanks under her breath.
Despite a moment of levity, my entire body felt cold, like I’d plunged back into the lake. All ofthislay behind his decision. All of this history suddenly brought intense clarity to the story.
And he’d never told me.
Or maybe I just hadn’t listened.
The last three years lay like a graveyard between us—a useless graveyard. Could all of this have been prevented? Had I done something wrong? My breath felt thready and weak, like I couldn’t catch it no matter how hard I tried.
“Dev, I didn’t know they struggled so much. I—”
“I know.” His gaze dropped then. “I know, and that is my fault. I just didn’t want you to know. You’ve always worried about things, and I think I had a little too much pride.” His brow furrowed. “Like my parents. Anyway, my parents still think that Mark was the investor behind the idea, but it’s me. I’ve fronted almost $30,000 over the last three years for them to do it, and now it’s paying out. One day I’ll tell them, but not now, so please—”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Thank you.”
I swallowed hard because I didn’t know what to say. Several long minutes passed while I comprehended all that he told me. Understanding it came with a surprising amount of rage. If he had justtrustedme. If he had justtoldme. The last three years could have been avoided. I could have supported him in the Marines. Helped his family. I could have done something to keep us together and avoid all those dark nights crying myself to sleep.
You could have supported him regardless of the history,came the thought. For the first time, I didn’t brush it away. There were opportunities I didn’t give him to explain. The weight of the last three years also lay on me.
Our current position was as much my fault as it was his. The silence waited for my response, and I was grateful that he gave me time to think it over. To deal with the overwhelm of my own responsibility in this.
“Thank you for telling me, Dev. I . . . admire your loyalty to your parents. That’s a big sacrifice to make.”
He waved that off.
My whisper came out quietly. “I’m sorry.”
After I said it, the gentle lap of the lake against the boat filled the air. Did he know how much my words truly encompassed? That I was sorry for not trusting him enough to get an explanation sooner? That I was sorry so much time had passed that we couldn’t take back now? That he’d made such a decision without once consulting me in all that time? I felt sorry and sad for both of us.
He licked his lips, then shook his head. Before he could say another word, I forced the rest out.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t give you a chance to explain. You tried.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Several moments later, he said, “It’s my fault, Ellie. I’m the one that should be apologizing.”
The sound of my name off his lips sent a physical thrill through me.
“It’s my fault that these three years happened this way,” he said with feeling. “That I chickened out and didn’t come home. That I didn’t tell you sooner and explain sooner and row you out here on this damn canoe and tell you when you couldn’t escape. To tell you at prom? I . . .”
Frustration made his entire body rigid. I could feel the sincerity of his regret, and it cut deep. Didn’t we both bear responsibility? If just one of us had trusted the other enough. If we had just—
I cut that thought off. We could have done a lot, but we didn’t. Now we had a three-year chasm to either ignore or try to gap.
“We’re both at fault, Dev.”
He frowned, not seeming any better for the admission. I appreciated the sentiment because, while I was grateful to understand, I felt worse. I drew in a deep breath and rubbed my hand over my knees, cold despite the persuasive heat from the warm summer sun on my skin.
