Oh, no he didn’t.
“Me?”
“Ya, you, Booksy. Who else would I be talking to in the middle of the woods?”
“Oh my God, Jack. I’m going to—”
“What? What are you going to do?”
“You do not want to fight with me right now.”
He’s all packed up, staring at me with a crease in his brow.
“I’m not fighting with you. I don’t fight anymore.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, the last time I fought with someone she died and I never got to fix it.”
“Shit.” Now I feel like a piece of garbage. I know this man so well, but somehow I didn’t know this part of his story before this moment. “Your mom?”
“Never mind. Let’s just go. We’re not mad. We’re not fighting. Let’s just get out of here.”
“Hang on a second.” I tug on his forearm before he can dodge me. “Tell me about it.”
“I can’t.”
“Jack. I know you don’t want to talk about it. Or anything with me, but…please.”
“Why?” The pain in his voice lances through me. I know he’s hurting, and even though I’m furious with him, I can’t bear to see him in pain.
“We’re friends. Well, we were friends. Who knows now, but seeing as how we’ll never be the same again anyway, just tell me.”
He stands still, at war with himself, for two minutes. Maybe five. Could have even been ten. But I’ll wait him out.
“Just before my mom died,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “we fought. I don’t even remember the argument. That’s how useless it was. But then she died, and I never—” his voice breaks off.
I lead him to the large boulder that’s just behind him and he leans back against it. “I never got to say sorry. To tell her I love her.” He wipes a few tears from his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Jack. I never knew that.”
His chin is tucked to his chest and he’s wiping at his eyes again. I step in between his legs.
“We fought. And then she died.”
“Those two events aren’t related,” I know I’m stating the obvious, but I have to say it anyway.
“I know.”
“It's easy for me to say this, but you have to let that go. Your mom was a beautiful person. She forgives you. She loves you. She’s proud of you.” This man has my heart, and he doesn’t even know it.
“I didn’t realize how much I was holding onto that moment. I’ve healed from most of it, but I guess I have a little ways to go still. I miss her. But I know you’re right.”
“It’s okay to fight.”
His voice is little more than a whisper. “I just never want to fight with someone I love ever again.” His fingers dig into my hips and he finally looks up at me. “That’s why I’ll never fight with you, Em.”
My heart flips and flops like a fish out of water. My brain can’t comprehend what he’s saying. “Y-you love me?”
