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“You don’t need to walk out like this,” he continues.
I somehow manage to stand my ground, yanking my armout of his grasp. “You know what’s crazy? When you suddenly did a one-eighty and decided you wanted this baby and you wantedme, I thought to myself that it was all happening so quickly. Too quickly. I worried you were telling me what I wanted to hear. I thought you might not be ready. But then you were so wonderful, up until—” My voice catches. “My point is, I was right. It did happen too quickly. You clearly aren’t ready to let us in, because you’re changing your mind again out of the blue. The feelings we shared suddenly aren’t there anymore, and that’s not fucking fair, Tuck.”
The look on his face is one of absolute misery. His eyes are red. There are deep furrows in his forehead.
Tell me to stay,I silently beg him.All you have to do is ask.
“You’re right,” he says hoarsely. “It’s not fair. I’m so sorry, Maren.”
The baby kicks. I put a hand on my stomach and scoff. “You’re really gonna let me go.”
He swallows. Doesn’t say a word.
So I walk out.
I throw shit in a bag and walk to the ferry alone in the dark.
twenty-eight
. . .
Tuck
Death Wish
Squintingagainst the bright afternoon sun, Riley nods at the heaving slate-blue waves before he looks dubiously at me. “You really wanna surf in this?”
“Yes.”
“Dude, it’s fucking freezing.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And the wind,” Abel adds. “That’s just gonna make the cold worse.”
“Fine. I’ll go by myself.” Tucking my board underneath my arm, I head toward the water.
“Aw, Tuck,” Riley calls after me. “Wait up. You ain’t goin’ out there alone.”
“I think he’s got a death wish,” I hear Abel say.
“Tuck.” Riley jogs to meet me. “Is something going on? You been acting weird ever since?—”
“It’s been weeks,” Abel says.
I glare at him over my shoulder. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your sister does. She says you’ve been off ever since Maren went to the hospital.”
My chest seizes. I ignore it. “How many times I gotta tell you to leave my sister alone, Abel?”
“We’re friends. We talk. She says she’s worried about you.”
We hit the water. It covers my bare feet and ankles in a freezing rush that’s so cold it actually burns.
Good. Maybe if it hurts enough, it’ll distract me from the seasick sense of regret that fills every inch of my being.
Exactly my plan when I texted Riley and Abel earlier this morning. Katie had a play date at a friend’s, so I ended up in my house alone on a Saturday. I couldn’t stand the silence. It vibrated with the memory of what—who—was missing.
