“I did, though, Teagan. He should be here. I wish he was still here.” I would trade places with him. Give up everything if I could. “I wish you could have met him.”
“Me too. Then your heart wouldn’t be so heavy all the time,” Teagan says softly.
It scares me how clearly she sees me. How much I want this. Her. Even though I deserve none of it. “I can’t—” I shake my head. “I can’t talk about this anymore, tonight. Can we just . . . I don’t want to think.”
Teagan’s teeth sink into her bottom lip. “Is this one of those times when it’s better just to feel?”
I lick my lips, my mouth dry. “Yeah, it’s one of those times.”
“Okay.” She stands and extends her hand. “Let me help you with that.”
She leads me upstairs, and behind closed doors she distracts me from the demons living in my head. But I still dream.
Because those demons might quiet every once in a while, but they never go away.
CHAPTER 20
THE FIGHT TO GET IN
Teagan
We don’t leave for Pearl Lake until late in the afternoon on Sunday. I can feel his walls going back up over the course of the day. Shutting himself off like he does. I want to find a way to slip through the cracks, but I don’t know how yet. He’s quiet for the first part of the drive.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. Leaving is always hard.”
“Because you miss them or because of the memories?” I’ve been tiptoeing around him all day, worried I’m going to set him off.
“Both, I guess.”
“It must be hard for you, coming here and then having to go back to Pearl Lake and pretend like everything is okay when it’s not.” I want to find a way to show him I understand. “I know it’s not the same thing, but it’s tough when Bradley calls. I want to be there for him, but it feels a lot like a betrayal to Van. You’re caught between two worlds, and you don’t want to let anyone down.”
“Do you even want to talk to Bradley, or is it that you don’t want to turn your back on him?” Aaron asks.
I consider that for a moment before I say, “Everyone makes mistakes, and no one should be alone. He’s already isolated as it is; I don’t want to have a hand in making him worse when I’m already part of the reason he is where he is.” I want to find a way to relate, to show him I see him and that he’s not alone either.
“You’re not the reason he’s behind bars. He tried to frame your brother,” Aaron points out.
“But I feel like I’m part of the reason. I helped put him where he is, and whether or not he deserves it, I still feel bad, just like you.”
He’s quiet for a few seconds before he says, “Lydia likes to paint me in a much nicer light than I deserve. I know you want to believe I’m this good guy, Teagan, but your brother being behind bars isn’t the same thing. I’m the reason my brother is dead.” He looks out the window, his face obscured by his ball cap.
I want to tell him to give himself some grace. It’s not his fault that Devon died, but I know better than to say something like that to him, aware that his guilt is stronger than anything else. Just like my dad’s guilt over losing my mother ruled him for nearly two decades. He still blames himself for the way Bradley turned out, and I think he probably always will, even though Bradley made his own choices, much like Devon and Lydia did that night. And I’ll always feel some guilt over where Bradley is, even if it isn’t my fault.
“Do you truly believe that?”
“Yeah. He’d still be alive if I’d gone out with him to find his phone.”
“You couldn’t have known he wouldn’t make it back inside,” I say gently and reach across the center console to touch him.
He yanks his arm away. “It should’ve been me. I should have gone out there. Then Jamie would have a fucking father and Lydia wouldn’t be a single fucking mom and my dad wouldn’t be minus a goddamn son!”
“I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say to make it better, and I have a feeling that no matter what I say, he’s going to find a reason to beat himself up.
“Sorry isn’t ever going to bring him back, so it’s a pretty fucking useless thing to be.”
I don’t try to coax him to talk for the rest of the drive home. His comment stings, but I know it’s not me he’s angry with. It’s himself. For letting me in. For losing someone he loves. For sharing a piece of himself and making himself vulnerable in the process.