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Boyfriend.Is that what he was to me? My secret boyfriend? The term doesn’t feel right, like we were more somehow.
Pushing the door that leads to the gardens open, I head toward our tree, kicking brown leaves away with my feet with each step I take. It’s cooler now outside. The autumn months always are, but I can’t help but instantly feel warmer when I see her sitting against the tree trunk with two paper cups in cup holders by her side, tapping her feet nervously against the grass. The wind whips at her brown hair, pulling a few strands out of place. She fidgets to fix it with her clip, her eyes darting toward me when she noticed me walking towards her, and I instantly knew how wrong I was.
“Hi,” she smiles nervously, looking up at me. “I’m really glad you came.”
“Me too,” I reply with a warm smile to ease her nerves. I know she must feel as anxious as I am, and it’s unfair on either of us.
“Lexy, I’m so sorry I…” she rushes out, but I cut her off, holding out my hand.
“I shouldn’t have blamed you for what happened. Deep down, I knew you had nothing to do with it.” I step around the cups and lower myself to sit beside her. “My head was so muddled with everything that happened that I guess I just needed time to process everything, you know.”
She slowly nods, then takes the latte out of the cup holder, lifting it to me.
I smile, take it from her and bring it to my mouth, tasting the hint of sweet vanilla on my tongue.
“Everything’s a mess.”
I swallow, then press my lips together because she’s right. It is.
“When you collapsed outside your house that night, I almost lost my fucking mind with worry. That night replays over and over in my head. I had no idea that you got hurt. The guilt has been eating me up.”
The past few weeks, I’ve been so wrapped up in my own trauma that I didn’t stop to think about what everyone else had been through. Yes, I lost my baby. But I wasn’t the only one who lost someone that night or had gotten hurt. Jordin almost got raped. Her cousin got shot, and Saint…he lost his grandfather. Then, a memory floods into my mind, nearly knocking me over. A memory so bad that I must have suppressed it away.I killed someone.
“I killed someone that night. Didn’t I?”
Her throat bobs when she swallows hard.
Bile rises and I bring my hand to my mouth. “Oh god. I remember. I did. I killed those two men.”
“Those bastard deserved to die. They were going to rape me. You saved me. You could have run away, but you didn’t. You fucking saved me, Lexy.” She cries so hard her body begins to shake.
On instinct, I lean forward, reaching to pull her into my arms.
“I would never let anyone hurt you. You’re my best friend in the whole world.”
She breaks down in my arms. “What kind of friend doesn’t know her best friend was shot?”
I hug her tighter, my hand stroking her back in soothing circles.
“The kind that was focused on keeping us both alive. You got me out of there in the first place, remember? I was the dumbass who wanted to stay with Saint. We saved each other.”
She pulls back, wiping her tears away.
“Have you seen him?” she sniffs.
I know what she means.
“Briefly. He’s got nothing to say that I want to hear.”
“You’ve every right to be upset. I would be too if the shoe was on the other foot and it was Caleb.”
I want to tell her about losing the baby. That it breaks my heart to even look at Saint because when I do, I wonder if our baby would have had his nose or mine. Eyes with my deep blue shade, or lighter like Saint’s. My blonde hair or his dark black hair.
After the initial shock of seeing those two little lines on the test strip, I was excited for the future. What our parents or anyone else thought about our relationship no longer mattered. We were going to be parents.
“It’s done now. Saint and I were never meant to be. I know that now,” I manage to choke out.
A stab to the heart would be less painful than saying those words.
