NOW
It’s a beautiful summer day.The kind that’s not stiflingly hot with the beaming sun but more breezy and tolerable with the occasional waft of cool air rolling through to pick up the ninety-degree weather.
In contrast to the weather, my mood might as well be described as a storm cloud. A cumulonimbus floating over me with the threat of a storm, matching the cyclone twisting away at my insides. Everything hurts. My head, my muscles, my heart. It all aches, reminding me that pain doesn’t really go away. As soon as there’s a twinge in a familiar place, like right in the center of my chest, it all comes back like muscle memory.
I’d just texted Sadie to remind her to wear sunscreen when I hear a knock at my door. I trudge off my couch, shuffling around in my sweatpants and loose T-shirt with a tattered image of 98 Degrees on it, Nick Lachey’s flirty smile disappearing into the creases, and answer the door to find Josh on the other side.
“Hey,” he says, taking in my haggard appearance. Bags under my eyes, hair being held together by an overstretched hair tie, a crusty coffee stain on my thigh, right next to the Nike logo, and a smear of peanut butter from the peanut butter and jelly sandwich I made for dinner last night. “Can I come in?”
“Sure,” I say, my voice hoarse. I turn around and walk to the couch, my feet sliding across the hard floor with the lack of pep in my step. I slump into the cushions and pull the throw blanket I’d been wrapped up in for the last forty-eight hours before peeking at him through the tattered edges. “If you came here to check on me, I’m obviously fine.”
Josh settles into the armchair facing me, slouching forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. “Are you?”
My throat tightens, my emotions threatening tears. “Yeah,” I whisper.
“Teeny, I wish you would’ve told me.”
The first tear falls, seeping into the knitted fabric of my blanket. “I didn’t know how.”
“I know,” he says, the kindness in his voice almost too much to bear. “But I wish I would’ve known. I wish I could’ve been there for you. Me and James, we could’ve been there for you together.
“You didn’t just lose Everett. You lost…I mean, I know it was your choice, and given the circumstances, it was probably for the best, but it doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to mourn.”
A sob breaks loose from my chest, and I realize what he’s saying. I didn’t just lose Everett. I lost something that was a part of us. While I didn’t go through with the pregnancy, the idea of this baby that could’ve been was swiped away the second I decided for us. And Josh is right. It was probably for the best, but I’d be lying if I said I’ve never thought about the what-ifs.
What if I had gone through with it? With or without Everett. I could’ve possibly been a mother to two beautiful girls. I would’ve had a part of Everett with me for the last twenty years, reminding me that something good came from our love. And what if I called Everett, braced myself for the possibility of yet another rejection with the news that he’d fathered a child? Would he have come back then?
Josh lets me cry, letting me bury my face into the cushions while the tears continue to pour out of me. He moves from his chair to the empty spot next to me, and I shift so I’m wrapped in his arms. As close as we are, we don’t do this. We don’t use physical affection as a way to comfort each other. It’s usually done through cheeky insults or the occasional physical blow, especially between my brothers, but it seems necessary right now. Because he isn’t just comforting his sister, but he’s comforting a woman who’s suffered through a loss and is finally coming to terms with it twenty years later. He’s letting me find the closure I needed after all this time, guiding me to that place so I don’t feel ashamed of my choices.
“Do you still love him?”
I don’t even need him to clarify the “him” he’s talking about. I nod. “But I’m so scared,” I tell him, my words carefully trickling out of me in small drips, too reluctant for them to mean anything. “I want to trust that he’ll never hurt me again, but if I’m wrong, and he hurts me again…Josh, I don’t think I could survive that.”
So what if I love him?
I’m realizing it doesn’t matter whether or not I love him. How far can that love go if I can’t trust him? It almost feels like loving him is the easy part, but deciding if giving us another chance is worth it? That’s the true dilemma.
“That’s completely understandable, Teen. You don’t need to explain yourself,” he tells me calmly, letting me feel all the things I want to feel.
“What if this doesn’t pass?” I ask him, and I realize that’s my biggest fear. Because what if I walk away from this and another twenty years pass only to realize that even with all of the time between us, I still love him? The thought of loving him so deeply and not having him in my life makes the hurt twist and coil inside me.
“Then you take your time. He’s not going anywhere.”
“How do you know?”
He shrugs. “Just a hunch.” A watery chuckle rattles through the sad tears, and Josh smiles bleakly at me. “Want to go somewhere? I’m craving some Sprinkles.”
A smile matching his stops the tears. “Sure.”
* * *
I’m sitting in the front seat of Josh’s Jeep, a box of Sprinkles cupcakes resting on my lap. I managed to change into something more presentable, jeans and a top that wasn’t a portal to my late-nineties boy band obsession, and the smell of sweet cupcakes is starting to make my mouth water. The music on the radio is something I don’t quite recognize, and Josh sifts through his playlist as we turn into an unfamiliar neighborhood.
“Where are you going?”
He keeps his eyes on the road ahead of him, his throat bobbing with a forced swallow. “I just need to make a stop somewhere.” I lift the lid to the box, peeking inside for the fourth time. “I told you, no eating in my car,” Josh scolds. I catch him glancing over at me, a side-eyed warning attached to his words.
“You know, they have handheld vacuums. Amazon sells them for like, fifty bucks.”
