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“How about we cut the secretive bullshit and start with the truth?” he shouts.
“Why are you yelling right now?”
“Because I’m pissed, Becs. How can I not be? You know how I feel. You can’t just keep going on acting like what you’re doing isn’t wrong.”
“You knew I was leaving!”
His entire body tenses. “So you’re still going?”
“Josh…”
“I just don’t see the point of this. Of any of it. You go and you leave Tommy and I behind, lost in the wake of your destruction and you think that’s okay?”
“So you’re breaking up with me?”
“Are we even really together?”
“You know I love you, Josh.”
“And yet you’re still leaving, Becca.”
I turn and face the door, my tears falling fast and free while I close my eyes—submerged in the pain of heartbreak. “I’m gonna go.”
“Fine! Go. What difference does it make? You do it now or you do it whenever the fuck you want to. What do I care?”
His apartment door opens and we both turn to the sound. Natalie stands in the doorway. “Josh, where are your towels?”
Josh faces me and ignores her. “If you have something to say, say it now.”
I look over at Natalie, and back at him, and I think about Tommy. My best friend. The boy with the smile just like his father’s. But as I look at Josh now, I realize how long it’s been since I’ve seen it on him. And I know that I’m the reason for it. I think about his confession—about wanting Tommy to have both his parents. And I remember his words—that he’ll always love her.
So.
I stay silent.
And I go into the house and back up to my room, where silence becomes my new best friend.
-Joshua-
Natalie enters the bedroom after her shower and sits down next to me on the bed. “What a crazy homecoming.”
I stay quiet, not knowing what to say.
“I know this is weird for you, Josh, and I get it. Obviously we need to talk. That’s why I came home. But when I called my parents to tell them I was here and they said that Thomas—”
“Tommy,” I cut in.
“Right.” She exhales loudly. “When they said Tommy was in the hospital, I drove straight there and I just… I mean, I was going to ease into things, you know? I was going to come back and talk to you and hopefully maybe earn a little of your trust back and see how you felt about me seeing Thomas—I mean Tommy—again. I just want to be part of his life, and yours, and…”
She keeps talking but I can’t hear her, not over the blood rushing through my eardrums. “We can talk about it tomorrow.” I stand up and grab a pillow off the bed. “You can sleep in here. I’ll be on the couch.” I turn to leave and out of habit, I glance out the window. And I regret it the instant I see her emerald eyes staring back at me. They’re not the same though. They’re lifeless, dull and dark.
23
-Becca-
Days pass.
Natalie stays.
I dedicate my life to staring at my wallpaper.
I can’t even look at Tommy.
Not after what I did.
I don’t look for Josh.
And I definitely don’t look for her.
-Joshua-
Days turn into weeks and nothing changes. The seconds tick by and the world exists without me ever really taking part in it. Natalie stays with us, sleeping in my bed while I take the couch. At first I was afraid to tell Hunter that she was back—that she was here with us. I was afraid of his reaction… of his judgment. I expected him to ask what the hell I was doing or why I let her in so easily. But what I didn’t expect was for him to understand. And when I told him that he simply said, “It’s what you’ve always wanted, right? I mean you always said that if she came back you wouldn’t turn her away. Is Tommy happy?”
“Yeah,” I’d told him, because he really was. He seemed happy to have two people in his life that genuinely loved him. And Natalie—she did. It may have taken her three years to realize that, but it was clear by the way she looked at him. By the hundreds of questions she’d ask about him—about his past and my plans for his future. Even the little things like how he likes his sandwiches cut. The questions only went one way. I never asked her about what she’d done in the three years she was away. I didn’t care. And to be honest, I didn’t really care about her at all. The feelings I’d had for her three years ago were no longer there. Natalie—she never really loved me. I don’t think I ever really loved her. And I know that because while I lay on my uncomfortable couch every night, my son in one room and his mother in the other, all my thoughts are filled with Becca.
â??â??â??
I find a letter in the mailbox. Hand written with my name on it—no stamp. No address. I open it quickly and pull out the check for a thousand dollars.
I knock on her door. “Becca!”
She answers, her eyes lowered.
“What is this?” I ask, waving the check in her face.
Without responding, she attempts to close the door in my face. I block it with my hand.
So she just stands there—one hand on the door, the other at her side.
“Becca.”
Then she looks up and my heart breaks and nothing makes sense anymore. Nothing. Her eyes, filled with tears, are surrounded by darkness. Her nose is red. Her hair’s a mess. And she’s looking at me like she’s not seeing me.
