Page 154 of True Blue

“Cruel,” I finish for her. “It was cruelty.”

Indie nods, taking a few deep breaths. I can recognize her box breathing, and I give her the space as she disappears into the bathroom briefly and comes back out with a clear face, tear tracks gone, her cheeks still flushed, but she looks steadier.

“Do you need anything?” I ask Indie, and she shakes her head.

“More answers,” she says, taking a deep breath.

I nod for her to continue when she’s ready.

“You really never had any romantic feelings for Lily? I mean, in the last months. You never thought about it? She was the path of least resistance. Your mother would be over the moon if you guys rekindled. She was practically planning your wedding…”

Indie narrows her eyes at me, like she’s searching for any deception.

My face remains as it is—open and honest.

“She would have been the easier option, but there’s only one woman I’ve ever loved,” I shrug, answering easily. “She is standing in front of me. Whatever I felt for Lily, whatever I tried to fabricate back then, stayed with my dumb eighteen-year-old self. The one who was the golden child, not realizing that it came at the detriment of my older sisters.”

Indie looks surprised by this.

“Yeah, Steph and Dani set my ass straight,” I bark a harsh laugh. “I don’t know how I didn’t see it⁠—”

“You weren’t meant to,” Indie interrupts, her voice soft. “You won’t see a problem that’s not there for you.”

“Doesn’t make it right.”

“No,” Indie shrugs. “It means you see it now.”

“Nana and Pop had to encourage me to be independent,” I tell Indie. “Without them, I’d probably still be living at home. She encouraged me to go to school and paid for my dorm. They encouraged me to live with Luke and Heath,” I smile softly. “She encouraged me to come meet you. Every good thing in my life was because of my Nana… and yet…”

“Your mother’s claws were in deep, Teddy,” Indie says, her voice scratchy. “It’s hard for someone to get out from under their abuser, no matter the age.”

“Don’t comfort me, Indie, I don’t deserve it⁠—”

“It’s just not about deserving or not,” Indie says flatly. “Things are not black or white. Not in this situation.”

I nod in agreement. “I still hurt you.”

“Yeah, you fucking did.” Indie then frowns like something just occurred to her.

“What, Indie?”

She looks at me, and the expression on her face is a challenge.

“Name it,” she says, and I frown in confusion. “Name the ways you harmed me. The ways you hurt me. So I know that you understand.”

And this is it. This is my trial; this is my time to present the evidence. This is my time to own what I did, if I have any hope of atoning to Indie. My throat tightens like the words don’t want to come out, but I push through it.

I look at Indie, and I name every charge.

“I did not defend you or correct my mother firmly enough when she called you Cindy or Bindi. I corrected her—barely—but I didn’t set boundaries, which led her to think she could keep doing it.”

Indie nods once.

“I did not set firm enough boundaries between my ex-girlfriend and me. There were no romantic feelings on my end—I only think of you like that—but it doesn’t erase the fact that I was spending energy on her that I should have spent on you.”

My throat feels raw, but I push through.

Indie deserves this.