“No. I want to see my daughter.”
She’s bawling dramatically, hitting the windshield repeatedly with her shoe. I look inside the car and see Hazel’s face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she sobs. Poor kid.
Allie meets my eyes helplessly.
“This isn’t the way,” I tell Jenna. “Look at her. Look how upset Hazel is. Let her go for now.”
Jenna sags with defeat and steps away from the car. Allie immediately puts it in drive and takes off.
“You don’t understand,” Jenna says to me, still crying. “I’m not a monster. I just want to see her.”
I shake my head and say, “You made your bed a long time ago.”
I walk back into the rec center, not feeling even a little sorry for her. Jenna’s selfishness didn’t just change the course of Allie’s life, but mine, too.
Seeing Hazel brought me back to when I was the age she is now, and my mom sat me down to say my father wanted a divorce and that we’d be moving to Greentree Falls. He wasn’t even man enough to tell me himself, and he wasn’t man enough to try to be a dad after the divorce either.
I’m the man I am because of my mom and my Aunt Jo. And Jenna’s kids are who they are because of Allie.
When she broke up with me, I meant it when I said I would quit school and move back here for her. She meant more to me than school, hockey, or anything else.
But my pride and immaturity took over when she said the words that cut me deep.
The kids are my family. They’re the only family I have left, and I have to put my family first.
It was like an arrow to my chest. After four years together, I thought I was her family, too. I didn’t see why she had to choose between me and the kids. I even resented them for taking her from me.
Allie was grieving, and in her own way, she was putting what she thought was best for me ahead of what would’ve been best for her. I love her for that.
I lost her a long time ago, but I still love her and I always will. It’s not just a fondness for the memories of our relationship. It’s a burning, all-in love.
I’ve already been in Greentree Falls for almost two weeks, and at some point, I have to leave. I’m not sure I’ll be able to do that without telling Allie my feelings haven’t changed.
She’ll shoot me down, I’m sure of it, but I don’t care. She needs to know she’s still beautiful. She needs to know that raising three kids alone makes her fierce. She needs to know she’s smart, sweet, brave and strong. So desirable I ache to touch her. My embarrassment is worth it, as long as I can make sure she knows that.TenAllieI only touched his hand for a second. It was just a brief gesture of thanks.
So why can’t I stop thinking about it?
It’s Friday night and I’m alone at last, snuggled under my covers in bed replaying the day. Well, mostly just that one second of it. Vi’s in Madison for the night with Jenna, which I didn’t have the energy to protest.
When Jenna came back to my house after her fit at the rec center and started packing her suitcase, huffing about feeling “unwelcome” in my house, I didn’t say a word.
Hazel is at Kelly’s and Max is staying the night with a friend. I’m not sure I’ve ever been completely alone in my house, and it’s a strange feeling. But after this day, I don’t mind one bit.
That hand squeeze earlier has me all messed up. Erik’s hand was warm, just like I remember it, but it felt bigger and stronger than it used to. I’ve been lying in bed for a good half hour thinking about what his hands used to feel like on me, and wishing I could feel them on me again.
I always loved it when he cupped my cheek in his hand as he kissed me. The first year, we didn’t do anything but kiss, hug and hold hands. His mom and my parents made sure we didn’t have an opportunity to do more.
When he got his driver’s license, though, we discovered our favorite activity was making out. We’d spend hours parked in any private place we could find, exploring each other in all the exciting, forbidden ways we could think of.
He would groan when I slid my hand over the bulge in his pants, which mystified and gratified me at the same time.
Every time Erik kissed me or touched me, he murmured his love for me in my ear. He touched me with reverence. With awe. We waited to have sex until I was a junior and he was a senior, and even after all these years, I remember it so clearly.