“Explains why you were so uptight that night,” David says. “I thought you killed someone in surgery.”
I choke. “Are you serious?”
He holds his hands up. “What? You were so broody and quiet and weird. I thought maybe you had a surgery go wrong. That you were fucked up but didn’t know how to talk about it.”
“That’s seriously depressing.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. I almost feel relieved that it was you pining after my mom instead.” He wrinkles his nose. “Okay, maybe not.”
I smile, and then I keep going. I tell him how we fought it, how we both knew it was more complicated than either of us wanted to get into. I tell him about the river and the things Josh said, about the bikes, about how it just all kind of happened. I assure him that was the first and only time, leaving out all the details I know he doesn’t want.
When I finish, he’s quiet, his jaw tight.
“Please say something.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know, man. I won’t lie to you and say I like this, or that I’m okay with it in any way.” He sighs. “But…”
“But?”
He looks at me. “It doesn’t take a genius to see that my mom has been happier than she has in maybe her whole life the past couple of months,” he says. “And now, I know why.”
I swallow.
“Well, she was happy,” he amends, his eyes washing over the park. “Until I blew up the way I did. She’s been miserable ever since.”
“She’s not the only one.”
We both fall quiet for a while, and the sun sets over the park, dusk bringing in a crisp, cool night.
“So, what now?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Well, again, I don’t particularly love this whole scenario,” he says. “But… hypothetically… if I got out of your way.” He looks at me. “What would you do now?”
My heart thuds in my chest, hard and heavy.
“I’d show her what a healthy relationship looks like,” I say. “What it feels like to be truly cared for, to be with someone who actually loves her.”
David grimaces, shaking his head. “Okay, maybe I don’t want to know.”
“Think about it, man,” I plead. “Think about how happy you are with Julia, what a beautiful and loving relationship you have.” I pause, letting that image sink in. “Now, think about what your mom has been through. Think about the kind of love she’s had.”
David swallows, his nose flaring, and I don’t have to ask to know he’s remembering all those nights he witnessed his mother’s abuse.
“I know this is not what you had pictured for her,” I say. “It’s certainly not what I had pictured for myself. I had a crush on her when I was eighteen, sure, but—”
“Wait, what?”
I wave him off. “Not important. What is important is that though this might not be conventional, and it may not be what any of us expected?” I pause, a smile curving on my lips. “It’s right. We are right together. I know it doesn’t make sense, but we get each other in a way I can’t explain. I make her feel safe, and cared for, and free to be exactly as she is. And she…”
My voice fades, the realization striking me in that very moment, and it’s so powerful it nearly knocks me off the bench.
“She feels like home,” I whisper.
David’s brows tug inward. He knows maybe better than anyone else in my life other than Amanda what that means to me, how home has never existed for me in any place I’ve been.
And now I understand why.
Home exists in her.
“Your mom has given up so much for you,” I continue. “For your dad. And now, she’s finally claiming a life of her own. All I’m asking is that you let me be a part of it. That you give me the chance to make her happy, to show her how amazing she is, and to help build the life she deserves,” I swallow. “To let me live alongside her.”
David sighs, shaking his head as he processes. It’s a long time before he speaks.
“It still weirds me out.”
I smirk. “Well, I’d be worried about you if it didn’t.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever really be okay with it,” he confesses, and when his eyes meet mine, my heart sinks.
I swallow past the knot in my throat, nodding. “I understand.”
“But,” he says, and my gaze snaps to his again. He holds up a finger to make me wait. “But, I’m willing to try.”
The breath that leaves me next is long and heavy with all the weight I’ve been carrying the last two weeks, and my head falls forward in a silent prayer before I wrap David in a crushing hug.
“Thank you.”
He hugs me back, but then shoves me off just as quickly, holding up his finger in front of me. “Do not be gross in front of me. Okay? Like… ever. No kissing, no hugging, none of that shit. In fact, I’d prefer you stay at least ten feet away from her at all times when I’m in the vicinity.”